SERMON - FIRST CHRISTIAN CHURCH

Luke 10:38-42 “Martha, Put Your Dishtowel Down”

July 22, 2007 Eighth Sunday of Pentecost

Many years ago, when my children, Kent and Connie, were in grade school and we lived in central Kentucky, on several Sunday evenings, Jean and Wilson Palmer invited us to their home for supper.

Jean went all out for those suppers. She set the table with beautiful bone china, real crystal and sterling silver. White linens. Fresh flowers. The whole nine yards. And not only did Jean set a beautiful table, she cooked some of the most delicious food I’ve ever eaten.

When any of us offered to help, Jean wouldn’t allow anyone in the kitchen. She did it all herself. When it came time for us to gather around the table, I noticed there was a place setting missing. There was no place set for Jean.

Instead of sitting down with us, Jean served us at table, rushing in from the kitchen with dish after dish of delicious food, serving us one by one until our plates were heaping. And only then, after everyone else was served, did Jean pulled up a little stool at the corner of the table to join us.

Following dinner, Jean jumped up from the table, and was at it again. Busy, busy, busy, clearing the table, getting coffee and dessert. Again, allowing no one to help.

There was another family in our neighborhood who also invited us to Sunday supper - Jack and Ruby Marsh. When the Marshes invited us over, sometimes it was for a lovely dinner served on Ruby’s good china in the dining room. But more often than not, it was hamburgers or cold meat sandwiches that we all fixed together in the kitchen.

Then we’d crowd around their big old kitchen table where everyone ate and talked and told stories and jokes, and generally laughed a whole lot before we all pitched in to wash the dishes and clean up the kitchen.

As I look back on those days, I remember: when we went to Jean and Wilson’s, the dinner just seemed to get in the way of relaxing and being together. Of enjoying one another’s company. But with Jack and Ruby, it was just the opposite. The meals never got in the way. Rather, they enhanced our being together. How we loved going there!

In today’s Gospel lesson, we see two such approaches to having friends into one’s home. On the one hand, there’s Mary with her laid-back approach to being with Jesus. Listening to his every word. Enjoying his company. Waiting for people to get hungry enough to get up and do something about it themselves.

Then there’s Martha. Knocking herself out to prepare a meal for Jesus and his followers. Not enjoying herself at all. And not really enjoying the company of Jesus in her own home. For Martha, the meal was a task that had become a burden.

But before we come down too hard on Martha, it’s important that we remember: Martha was following the established practice of the day. Jewish customs of hospitality demanded that when guests were welcomed into one’s home, there was an expectation that the hostess “knock herself out” to do everything possible for her guests.

So when Martha looked out the window and saw Jesus coming down the road with his 12 disciples and probably 70 or 80 others, she did what was expected. She headed for the kitchen and knocked herself out by preparing and serving dinner.

And whatever it was she prepared, it had to be a lot. Twenty or 30 chickens to fry. A mountain of potatoes to peel. Green beans to snap. Tomatoes to slice. The whole nine yards. We can picture Martha running around in her kitchen, Busy, busy, busy! No time to sit down. So much to do.

We know how it is when we have too much to do and too little time to do it. We hurry from task to task, doing a little bit here, a little bit there. No time for interruptions, for the unexpected, for anything that gets in the way of the task at hand. And all the while, feeling frustrated and flustered.

That had to be Martha! Burdened with all that work! Up to her elbows in chicken grease. Hot and sweaty. Slaving away in the kitchen. Frustrated and flustered. No wonder she wanted help. And when she went looking for Mary, there she was, out in the living room with the men, sitting down on her duff, listening to Jesus.

And boy! - was Martha ticked! She must have huffed under her breath, “Well! And just who do you think you are - sitting in there with Jesus? Just like you belong there. Get in here and help me!”

But when Mary doesn’t “get in there,” Martha complains to Jesus, “Doesn’t it bother you, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all this work by myself? Tell Mary to get in the kitchen and help me!”

But Jesus doesn’t order Mary into the kitchen. As a matter of fact, he puts his big, brown hands on Martha’s shoulders, looks into her tired, angry eyes, and says, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things. There is need of only one thing. And Mary has chosen the better part which will not be taken from her.”

In this situation, having just recently turned his face toward Jerusalem where a cross would await him, Jesus knew there was something needed other than cooking and serving. But Martha was so busy, so distracted by what she was doing that she missed the point.

The Greek word for “sin” is “hamartano” which is an archery term meaning “to miss the point, miss the mark, miss the bull’s eye, miss the center.”

And that was Martha. Off center. Missing the point. Centered on the task at hand. Complaining about all she had to do. Complaining about what Mary was not doing. Busy, busy, busy. Going round and round. More centered on fried chicken and mashed potatoes in the kitchen than the Christ of God in her own living room.

To understand the story of Mary and Martha more fully, it may help to see it within a larger context. It is one of several stories in Luke in which Jesus addresses individuals who are very close to the mark, close to the point, close to experiencing the Realm of God. . . . but they’re not quite there.

For example, the story preceding today’s story is the parable of the Good Samaritan. A lawyer, an expert in religious law asked Jesus what he must do to inherit eternal life. As they discussed the matter, it became clear to Jesus that this man knew the points of the law to love God and love one’s neighbor.

Jesus then told the story of a man beaten by bandits - to make the point for the lawyer - that a deeper and fuller living of God’s will requires a willingness to risk himself - to act in love, love that draws no boundaries.

Then, in chapter 18, in response to a similar question from a rich man whom Jesus encounters, Jesus says to him, “There is still one thing lacking. Sell all you own and distribute the money to the poor, and you will have treasure in heaven. Then come, follow me.” But the rich man was burdened with many possessions, and does not regard Jesus’ instruction as good news.

To others who are burdened with family cares, Jesus says, “Don’t even turn back to bury the dead.” For those preoccupied with living for the future, Jesus tells the story of the rich fool who is so intent on building new barns that he is caught unawares when his soul is required of him.

It is within the context of all these stories and teachings that we find the story of Martha and Mary. Jesus does not offer a one-size-fits-all prescription for every person. What he does do is identify the particular burden that weighs down the individual in a specific context.

For some, it may be possessions or power. For others, work or family. For Martha, it was much cooking and serving.

So Jesus says to her, “Martha, put your dish towel down, and for now, choose the better part. Spend some time with me and you will find food for your soul.

“Matter of fact, why don’t you all put down your school books, your video games, your computers, your baseballs and golf clubs, your knitting needles and woodworking tools. Your hobbies. Your work. Even your family members and your friends, and spend some time with me.”

“But Lord, I’m up to my eyeballs in mashed potatoes, and Mary’s just sitting in there…….I don’t have time…..I just don’t……there’s so much to do…..”

Sounds just like us at times, doesn’t it? Busy, busy, busy. No time for the one thing that Mary chose. The one thing which seems to be less about production, and more about presence. Less about working 24/7, and more about living in the moment. Less about earning a merit badge, and more about receiving a gift.

In this story, the one thing Mary had learned was how to be in the presence of Jesus, receiving him as a gift. And it was probably the very thing Martha needed most.

“You lack one thing,” Jesus said to Martha. “Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her.”

“You lack one thing,” Jesus may be saying to us. “Choose the better part which will not be taken away from you.”

There are days when we are just like Martha. And there are days when we would benefit from being just like Mary.

Perhaps these remaining weeks of summer can be a time that we devote to rediscovering how to receive. A time to feel God’s presence. A time to let recreation offer some re-creation - not so we can gear up for the rat race to resume, but so that we can restore perspective, and choose the better part.

Some graffiti scratched onto a phone booth sums it up pretty well. It goes like this:

Nietzcche says, ‘To be is to do.’

Sartre says, “To do is to be.’

Sinatra says, “Do be do be do.”

Jesus says, “Go then, my friends, and do when doing is needed, but, like Mary, do not neglect your spirit when ‘being’ in my presence is needed.”

Amen.