For Sunday, July 17, 2016 – Luke 10:38-42
The story begins quite simply: “As they continue on their way, he enters a certain village, where a woman named Martha welcomes Jesus into her home.” Martha is at the heart of this tale, welcoming Jesus and, we assume, his entire group. Through her actions, she expresses her gladness that such a guest has come. She does not dawdle, but gets to work in tangible ways. Who among us doesn’t appreciate and depend upon the Marthas in our midst? What kind of dinner party would it be if guests arrived to a barren room, no refreshment on the table and no preparations being made? Martha sees what needs to be done and does it. Martha sees to the cleaning, the shopping, the cooking—the daily demands of duty. What church, family or society does not benefit from her good heart and busy hands, her steady willingness to work?
But . . . Martha is unable to enjoy her gifts or be fully herself, to let her goodness flow freely, because she becomes distracted by comparing herself to her sister, Mary. Mary, too, welcomes Jesus—by sitting down, right there with the other disciples, by listening, absorbing, being still. While Martha is busy with tasks, ones she and other women have always fulfilled, and been expected to fulfill, Mary carves out a new kind of welcome. She creates an open and receptive space, crossing presumed boundaries, expectantly watching for not-the-same-old-thing to happen. Which one is right? Who shall we try to be, Martha or Mary?
When the mind and heart begin to see in sacred stories lessons beyond duality, Martha and Mary become not opposing sisters but simply members of the same family, mutual parts of a whole. Without Martha, who would ever notice what needs to be done and get to work doing it? Who would help make a more welcoming world by taking specific actions toward that end? Without Mary, would we ever stop our frantic pace, calm our distracted minds, and listen for deeper wisdom to be given? Unless we nurture and respect both Martha and Mary, come to love them both and let them grow stronger within us, we will miss the meaning and the action required of us now. Our communal home is a mess, and company’s coming. Will we welcome Jesus into the fractured family and let him teach us new ways?
