Introduction

This is the sermon I preached at Holy Cross Lutheran Church, Beatrice, Neb., on Saturday and Sunday, Nov. 14-15, 2009, the weekend of the 23rd Sunday after Pentecost. The lessons reflect the theme of the holding the annual Thankoffering Service of the Women of the ELCA.

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Readings

Exodus 1:15-2:10
Psalm 138
Titus 3:1-8
Luke 10:38-42

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Prayer

Long ago, O God, you spoke to our ancestors in many and various ways by the prophets. Now in these last days, make us listen as you speak to us by your Son. Amen. (based on Hebrews 1:1-2, NRSV)

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Message

When I was little,
I always enjoyed visiting the family farm
where my grandmother had grown up.
It was only a few miles from our house,
and yet going there was like stepping
into another world, a different time.

My great Aunt Miriam and Uncle Lester
lived in that big limestone farmhouse.
They raised seven children
and never seemed to be put out
when family stopped in to visit.

Aunt Miriam, a good Brethren woman,
always made me feel welcome in her home.
She amazed me with her big projects:
canning and freezing when fruit and corn
were at the peak of their flavor.

And yet, despite these great productions,
she would stop, set her work aside,
and fix us a snack, sit with us
in the kitchen with its warm varnished woodwork
and visit with us, asking us what we were doing.

Looking back, I can see in her
the qualities of both a Martha and a Mary,
the two sisters immortalized
in the Church’s memory
and lifted up to us in today’s Gospel.

My Aunt Miriam could immerse herself
in the many tasks required to run a Christian home,
but then she knew when to stop, to rest,
and to focus on the one thing that mattered:
hospitality to a visitor.

When I was young, I never thought to ask Aunt Miriam
why she treated us the way she did
and how she managed her life.
But I do remember her fondly
and can see in her the balanced blending
of the ways modeled for us
by the Mary and the Martha of Jesus’ time.

Martha gets the more critical treatment
in most conversations we have about these sisters.
That might be because most of us are pretty quick
to see ourselves in Mary.

Or at least we like to hope
that we would respond to Jesus
the way Mary does in Luke’s Gospel.

Surely we would recognize
the great gift of his presence
and would sit obediently, expectantly, attentively
at his feet and absorb every word,
each gesture, all of the sensations
of his wonderful visit with us.

Then, from that perspective as Marys,
and maybe with a little sibling rivalry goading us on,
we would easily hear our Lord’s comment to Martha
as a rebuke, a kind of scolding, even if done gently.

And there might be a little of that
in Jesus’ comment to Martha.
But if there is a little voice of rebuke,
it seems tempered by his loving desire
to change her outlook,
to help lift her gaze from the stove,
to empty her hands of the spoons,
to calm her mind from dinner planning,
to quiet her thoughts about problems that might arise,
and to invite her to stop, rest, and breathe.

And if we are really honest,
we must admit we have at least as much Martha in us as Mary.
How many times have we said to ourselves,
“I need to take care of this.
No one else is paying attention.
If I don’t do it, it won’t get done.
And if someone else tries to do it,
it won’t be done right.”

But, that’s not the point.
The goal of our lives
is not to achieve maximum order and efficiency,
even if our motives are good.

As Jesus says to Martha and to the little piece of her in you and me,
“Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things;
there is need of only one thing.
Mary has chosen the better part,
which will not be taken away from her.” (Luke 10:42, NRSV)

If we listen very carefully,
we hear that Jesus did not say,
“Mary has chosen the good part….”
That would imply that Martha’s choice was not good.

We hear, though, that Jesus says,
“Mary has chosen the better part.”
This means that Martha’s part is good,
but that Mary’s is better.

And how else could it be
when our Lord himself
comes to visit us?
It is good to be ready,
to make our plans, to prepare ourselves.
But when he comes to us,
then the time for preparations is over,
and we may, with his full blessing,
sit at his feet in wonder and worship.

In our ministry of hospitality to one another
in the name of our Lord,
both ways have their place.
Just as my Aunt Miriam’s open doors and outstretched arms
welcomed me when I was a kid,
our actions beforehand to prepare a place for others
work together with our restful attention to them
when we welcome them into our lives and homes and church.

Our Gospel hints at this
by placing this little story of two sisters and their visit with Jesus
in between the parable of the Good Samaritan
and Jesus’ teaching the disciples the Lord’s Prayer, our daily petition to our Father.

The Good Samaritan shows us the right way
to live out the Martha side of ourselves,
to work and to serve in imitation of our Lord’s sacrificial giving.

And then the Lord’s Prayer helps us to live like Mary,
to place everything in our lives at the feet of our Lord
and to listen to what he says to us.

When we do this, we will feel in the depths of our hearts
the unspeakable peace that comes from knowing
we have chosen the better part
that will not be taken away from us.
We will know the joy of receiving heaven’s hospitality. Amen.