Martha and Mary
Every 3 years, in our Anglican cycle of Sunday readings, it's time for
the short but oh-so-telling story of Martha and Mary (Luke 10: 38-42). One sister
who is pulling out all the stops (and her own hair) to provide a Messiah-standard
spread for Jesus; one sister who just sits there doing nothing much except listen
to him. And guess what? Jesus not only refuses to make the one get up and help the
other - he tells Martha that Mary has “chosen the better part”.
Jesus, of course, has previous (from our perspective) when it comes to being unfair.
He tells a story about late-coming labourers who are paid as much as those who've
been sweating all day; and another one about a useless layabout who is thrown a party
on his homecoming, to the fury of his brother who's been slaving away for years with
no fuss made of him. And remember how, from a crowd of fine upstanding citizens,
he only has to choose that cheating midget of a tax-collector to go and have tea
with. What's the matter with him? Why does he always say and do the opposite of what
people expect or want?
The matter with Jesus, I'd say, is that he urgently wants to puncture the self-righteousness
which so often lurks beneath the surface of seeming virtue - so that we will be shocked
into realising that it is God's grace, rather than our own efforts to be good, which
brings life. Martha needs that verbal slap in the face to wake her up from all her
frantic busyness, so she can see that only one thing is needed: to sit still and
receive God's goodness, God's grace, God's gift of himself. It's not that Mary is
better than Martha - it's more that Mary can so easily be ignored, buried under Martha's
determination to be active. Mary needs a champion, in a world where activists rule
(and haven't they done well?!).
I used to ask people whether they were Martha or Mary. (Ask them in church, not
just randomly on the street). Now, I think we all have Martha and Mary in us. But
does our Mary too easily feel she is of little worth compared with roaring, bustling
Martha? After all, there is so much to do, especially if you're a priest, or slightly
self-important, or both. And Mary really isn't much use: she just sits looking out
of the window, or stands under a tree for half an hour, or closes her eyes until
the world feels so still that she wonders if anything will ever move again.
Jesus' purpose is to make us whole, to integrate us, to bring Martha and Mary together,
in us, in our world. So...Martha needs to sit with Mary, contemplating God's goodness
and beauty, for a while, before together they go and make a delicious meal.
Giles King-Smith
