SIXTH SUNDAY AFTER PENTECOST, July 17, 2022

“Mary and Martha – Is One Sister Better Than the Other?” (Luke 10:38-42)

Did you grow up with brothers and sisters? Was there sibling rivalry, that urge to compete for the affection of your parents, the approval and praise of adults? I had a brother, Keith, nine years older, and a sister, Eleanor, five years older. My brother was extremely clever and mechanically adept. My sister was smart, artistic and a bit of an athlete. My Mom staunchly maintained she loved us equally. My Dad was appreciative of our individual gifts and not inclined to force us onto any path. When I started school, however, I encountered some teachers who were inclined to compare us. There was the never to be forgotten moment when upon returning my test, the Grade 5 teacher remarked she was surprised I hadn’t done better: Keith and Eleanor were so good in math. I determined to reduce the opportunities for such observations: my sister was a Brownie so I became an Explorer; my sister took accordion lessons so I turned to ballet; my sister painted so I became the crafter – knitting, sewing, embroidering. This helped but still there were times when it felt as if Eleanor’s gifts and skills were more appreciated than mine.

 If this sounds at all familiar than you like me are probably hooked by this story of Martha and Mary. You may find yourself identifying with one of the sisters. In the gospel of John, the sisters have a brother named Lazarus, but in Luke, they appear to be on their own. Certainly, Martha acts as the head of the household when she offers hospitality to Jesus and his followers. In their culture and time, hospitality was both expected and highly regarded. Remember when Jesus sent out the seventy to carry on his mission and ministry, he specified that they were to take no supplies with them but rely on others to feed and house them. As Abraham and Sarah went to great lengths to present nothing but the best to the three strangers who happen by so Martha strives to be an above average host. She is intent on expressing her love for Jesus through action, through service.

I suspect Martha would have felt right at home in the Woman’s Association, one of the two groups that joined together sixty years ago to form the United Church Women. The Woman’s Association focused their efforts on raising funds to support their congregations and engaging in acts of service. Come to think of it, Martha would have made a valued member in any United Church. From our inception, we have had a strong emphasis on action, on doing justice – addressing inequities in society; speaking out on behalf of those who have been silenced; making sure the hungry are fed and the homeless have a roof over their heads. More recently, the term “radical hospitality” has been bandied about as a reminder that as people of faith, we are called to put extraordinary effort and emphasis on welcoming one and all. This involves not only breaking down any barriers whether physical or social that may prevent people from participating in the life and work of the community of faith, but also being open to changing our ministries and practices to accommodate newcomers. During covid, radical hospitality became more difficult. We had to close our church doors. Anyone was welcome to watch our YouTube videos but they had to have the technology and the know-how. We’re still working through questions around how we can care for one another; serve our communities and love our neighbours both near and far when health concerns require us to physically distance and isolate.

While Martha makes the dinner preparations, her sister, Mary, sits at Jesus’ feet, listening. Sitting at a teacher’s feet is the usual position for a student, a disciple – a role traditionally reserved for males. Mary is violating the social norms of her society. Jesus far from scolding her and putting her in her place – back to the kitchen with you, woman! – is supportive. Mary has the precious opportunity to hear what Jesus has to say. She like the other disciples may even ask questions to deepen her understanding.

Mary would have felt right at home in the Woman’s Missionary Society, the other group that formed the UCW. The WMS put a heavy emphasis on study and worship, on nurturing and growing in the faith. While Martha has been described as having an active approach, Mary’s is contemplative. Today, she would feel at home with people who pray the scriptures, meditate, go on silent retreats. She would be seen as a model amongst cloistered orders of monks and nuns.

While Martha and Mary both open their home to Jesus, they have very different responses to Jesus’ presence. There is nothing inherently wrong with that. The God who created us in God’s own image intended diversity. Problems arise, however, as Martha, dashing around, trying to get everything ready, becomes more and more irritated as she looks at her sister just sitting there. Is there anyone here who cannot put themselves in Martha’s shoes, who hasn’t at some point felt as if all the work was falling on them while others enjoyed a free ride? Martha could have gone directly to Mary to request her help. Instead, she chooses to speak to Jesus. This is a classic example of triangulation: one person talking to a third party, relying on that individual to convey their concern to the second party, and fix the problem. Triangulation is especially tempting when we are sure we are in the right and this third party will take our side. Martha’s opening words “do you not care” clearly indicate: Martha is confident of Jesus’ regard for her. She assumes he will come back with an “of course, I care”, and an immediate dispatching of Mary to the kitchen. That is why Jesus’ response is all the more shocking both to Martha and to us as listeners. Far from siding with Martha, Jesus appears to be landing on her for being worried and distracted with many things. Is he saying that Mary is the better sister?

Let’s just pause here for a moment. By saying “do you not care”, Martha is turning this situation into a test of love: if you care about me, you should notice how overburdened I am and take steps to alleviate it. “If you really loved me, you would…” Does this sound familiar? It is such a part of our being human that we may not even be aware we are doing it. During a unit of Clinical Pastoral Education at Toronto Western, I learned that my sister, whom I’d thought was cancer free, was in hospital facing surgery. I was upset and worried, but all I said to my small group was that I couldn’t go straight home that evening. I thought: if they really care about me, they will ask “why” and I shall tell them about Eleanor. They didn’t so I didn’t. It was only the next day as I faced the anger and disbelief of my group that I realized how ridiculous that was. My group cared for me, but that didn’t mean they could guess what I was going through, and what I needed, and it certainly didn’t mean they always agreed with my choices or actions.

Jesus does love Martha. We can hear that in the sorrowful repetition of her name. He is sorry that she feels so overburdened and resentful of her sister, but that doesn’t lead to his taking her side against Mary. Jesus is en route to Jerusalem. His time is growing very short. There will not be many more opportunities to be with him; to listen to his stories; to ask questions; to learn from him. Given this, what is more important: to spend time in the kitchen preparing the perfect dinner or to sit at Jesus’ feet?  Given this situation, Mary has made the better choice. Jesus thinks enough of Martha that he is willing to confront her with this truth.

Action is important. Witness the parable of the Good Samaritan. Martha is trying to love her neighbour as herself, but this time, she has lost sight of what really matters when offering hospitality: namely, spending time with the guest. What happens next we are not told. Does Martha promptly take off her apron and sit down? Does Mary get up to help her sister so the two of them can enjoy some quality time first in the kitchen and then around the dinner table with Jesus? If this were today in Canada, they might scrap the banquet and order in pizza.

The story of Martha and Mary will never rank right up there as one of my favourites. But I can appreciate how by watching Martha bustle and Mary sit, we are reminded that both the activist and the contemplative have a place in the church. We need Thomas Merton, the Trappist monk, inspiring us with his writings, and Lois Wilson, a former moderator of the United Church and Senator, now in her nineties, still stirring things up, and spurring us to action. One way is not better than the other; it is just different. Each approach benefits from the other. Action needs to be rooted in God’s word and nurtured by some form of study and prayer. Contemplation needs to issue in action that benefits our neighbours. Otherwise, it is little more than navel gazing.

One sister is not better than the other. Jesus loves both Martha and Mary. Thanks be to God who cares for us in our activity and our stillness, always encouraging us to find our own path to wholeness and fullness of life. Amen.