Martha speaks up. Finally!
The 8th Sunday after Pentecost (RCL, Year C)
July 18, 2010
The Reverend Paul Roberts Abernathy, Rector
I read this story of Jesus entering “a certain village” and visiting two sisters, Martha and Mary,[1] and feel instant sympathy for Martha. She’s the one in the kitchen breaking a sweat, bustin’ pots and pans to prepare an elaborate meal for her guest, Jesus, whilst Mary sits at his feet listening to his teaching. Martha wants her sister’s help, but Jesus rebukes her, albeit mildly, calling attention to her anxious, fussy hospitality, which he does not require, and making a point about the generosity of Mary’s attentiveness, which he does desire.
Now, I can make a case that this story is about the quality of greeting – that the greater, more essential value of one’s reception of another rests in offering what the guest most wants or needs. Or that listening to Jesus’ teaching, the word from God’s messenger, is the most important thing, having priority above all other things, given that this instruction, when applied, when lived has, literally, life-long value. Or that this is not an either-or, but a both-and gospel that calls the Christian to be like the active Martha and the contemplative Mary, thus becoming a contemplative actor, one whose deeds arise from faithful (not fretful) consideration. Or that the larger social, political point is not the welcome of Martha or Mary, but rather of Jesus, who, counter to the male-centered cultural practices of his day, invites a woman to learn from him, to be his disciple.
I can make a case for any and all of this. Yet as I reflect on this story, I stand on Martha’s side. And why not? As much as I have learned to appreciate myself as a human being whose qualitative sense of self-worth is derived primarily from the fact of his creation, I still respond readily to that inner voice that measures value quantitatively by the amount of human doing; the more, the better. That said, I side with Martha for another reason: the issue of kindness. Verily, even if there is a point to be made about the importance of the host responding to the desires of the guest, there is an equal concern that once one has given the best one can provide simple gratitude, even more, mutual generosity calls for the one served to offer, at the least, a heartfelt “Thank you” and certainly never a reprimand, however mild, well-intended, and instructive.
In this consideration, this episode reminds me of another biblical tale of the rejection and acceptance of offerings: the Genesis story of Cain and Abel.[2] Without apparent reason or stated cause, God dismissed Cain’s offering of fruits of the soil while gladly receiving Abel’s oblation of lambs from his flock (perhaps revealing a divine favor for shepherds over farmers!), all of which led to the Bible’s first murder, a dispirited Cain taking out his anger on his brother. While Martha had the good sense not to throttle Mary, at least not in front of Jesus, he, in the role of the authority, strikes me as less callous, but no less discriminatory and capricious than the God of Genesis. And as the authority, just as he, in a counter-cultural act, welcomes Mary as a student, he dismisses Martha, silencing her, putting her in her place, a decidedly culturally commonplace practice. Again, I feel compassion for Martha.
So, today, I, as a preacher, want to be Martha’s advocate, giving her a voice, giving voice to her concerns. Luke doesn’t record how Martha responded to Jesus, what she thought, what she felt, and what, if anything, she may have wanted to say in her defense. Today, I offer some possibilities…
Martha turned on her heel and stormed back into the kitchen, the rebuke of her friend ringing in her ears. She was trying her best. Wasn’t that good enough? What was it that the learned rabbi was trying to teach her? She had overheard his word to her sister. Something about the definition of “neighbor” being anyone in need and being a good neighbor by trying to help, whether the one in need be Jew or Samaritan.[3] That, she thought, was provocative and worthy of consideration. After all, Mary wasn’t the only one given to prayerful contemplation. But now was not the time for idle hands! Besides, being helpful was precisely what she was trying to do. There still was a meal to finish and the stew had almost burned. What would Jesus have her do? Throw it out and start over? Or serve nothing at all? Never!
Martha took the pot off the fire, spun around and headed out of the kitchen. Standing in the doorway, she gazed for a moment at Jesus, leaning over whispering to Mary, who adoringly looked up into his eyes. Clearing her throat, Martha, began.
“Jesus, I’m sorry, but I’m still distracted by many tasks! I’ve thought about what you said. ‘Martha, come out of the kitchen’ and ‘Martha, don’t make such a fuss. Mary has chosen the better part.’ Chosen? Ha! Who wouldn’t choose the ‘one needful thing’ if she had a choice and if only one thing was needful and if there wasn’t a houseful of people – you, Jesus, and all your hungry disciples? So, Mary chooses to listen to you. Great! Who then feeds you and, I repeat, all your disciples? You who fed 5,000 at a time because they were hungry and you loved them enough not to send them away.[4] You who told a parable about sheep and goats, the sheep being blessed inheritors of God’s kingdom because they, in welcoming and feeding the neediest, welcomed and fed you.[5] See, I have been paying attention. And see, that is what I’m trying to do for you! Welcome and feed you! And one other, most important, most needful thing. It’s all about love. Food and drink. Pots and pans. Preparing and setting the table, and cleaning up after you. That’s one way I show my love for you.
“That, Jesus, is my instruction about what’s going on here. Now, you didn’t ask me, but let me give you some advice. I think you need to re-think your teaching so it makes sense out here in the kitchen. In fact, Mary, stay right where you are. Jesus, you get up and follow me!”

