Sixteenth Sunday in Ordinary Time
The Book of Genesis 18:1-10a
The Gospel of Luke 10:38-42
Preached at House of Hope Lutheran Church (New Hope, MN)
July 17, 2022
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Grace and peace to you from God the Creator, Christ the Liberator, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.
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Today we get to spend time together with Martha and Mary in their home. This is a snapshot of their life, living in community with each other, and welcoming Jesus into their home. This is a snapshot – a single moment – so we don’t get the whole story, just like a picture freezes a moment, and it’s our memory that fills in the details.
What we are not going to do with this text today is use it to pit Martha and Mary against each other. To pit women against each other. To pit action and contemplation against each other. To dismiss the importance of hospitality and homemaking. There’s a temptation to do that, especially with how short and abrupt the passage is. I’m more familiar with the version from the Gospel of John, so when I read this part of Luke, I returned to chapter 10 as a whole.
And this short, abrupt passage is all we get of Jesus’ time with Martha and Mary. Right before is the parable of the Good Samaritan, and right after is Jesus praying in a different place, teaching what we know as the Lord’s Prayer.
So framing it as a snapshot, a moment of time where people are living together in community, with all of the conflict and connection inherent in that, gives us space to view Martha and Mary as whole people, not archetypes. People who have things to learn from each other, including how best to care for each other, and things to teach each other. Both women are breaking archetypes and expectations that have been put on them by a heavily gendered and patriarchal society.
Jesus is being welcomed into Martha’s house. Not her husband’s house, not her brother’s house. Her house. She is the steward of the space, a role which, in that particular time and cultural context, is usually the role of the patriarch of the family. This places Martha in a counter-cultural role that carries a lot of responsibility and expectations, including around hospitality.
The past few weeks we’ve been exploring texts on the importance of hospitality. Including today’s Genesis text. Hospitality and welcome are deeply held values in Scripture. Welcoming travelers, providing food, water, a place to wash, is the expectation. This ordinary, day-to-day welcome and hospitality is so engrained in a way that frankly it isn’t in mainstream, white, US culture today.
And the coordination of the shared work of hospitality falls to the head of the house – in Genesis, Abraham asks Sarah to make bread, the servant to prepare the calf, Abraham brings his guests the water to wash, the curds and milk, and the prepared food. It reminds me, a little, of the relative who agrees to host the large holiday gathering, coordinating who is bringing what dish, making sure everything gets heated and cooked properly, who spends a lot of time in the kitchen while everyone else is helping a little, but the guests are mainly in the other room, spending time together. Oftentimes, the host self-selects into this role – wanting to provide care and hospitality for their family and friends. But there’s something lost here, as well. The host often misses a lot of the shared time together, being worried and distracted by everything that’s going on, wanting everything to be perfect.
Sharing in the labor of hospitality, as Martha is asking Mary to do, as Abraham asks his family to do, means that Martha could be finished with her tasks and enjoy her guest’s company as well. In this snapshot of the daily life of these two women, Martha is simply asking Mary to contribute to the shared labor of hospitality. Martha is letting Mary know one way of caring for her – helping her out, so that she isn’t doing all of the work alone. Mary could learn from Martha, as she is trying to make sure their guest feels welcomed and cared for.
Let’s shift to Mary, who is sitting at Jesus’ feet, learning from him. In their particular time and cultural context, this is the place of a disciple. From the narratives about Christianity that have been translated, passed down, sifted through, selected, we typically remember the disciples as men. However, this passage, however short and abrupt, places Mary as a disciple, learning at the feet of Jesus.
Her attention is focused on their guest, listening to him, sharing space and quality time with him, welcoming him, in her own way. Because to learn at someone’s feet is to let their wisdom into your heart. To be open to the possibility of surprise, of change, of transformation. She is welcoming the stories he is sharing. Mary is less concerned with the physical actions of hospitality – she is instead leaning into the spiritual actions of hospitality.
I wonder, too, if Mary trusts that she is worthy to sit at Jesus’ feet just as she is. She doesn’t need to fill an expectation of productivity, of busyness.
By choosing this aspect of hospitality, Mary is letting Martha know one way of caring for her – being with her, sharing space, sharing quality time. Martha could learn from Mary, as she is trying to make sure their guest feels welcomed and cared for.
Both women are breaking archetypes and expectations that have been put on them by a heavily gendered and patriarchal society, and both are providing hospitality to Jesus. It’s interesting, taking this passage in contrast to the one we read two weeks ago, where the physical actions of hospitality were so important. Here, in this moment, Jesus seems to be prioritizing the spiritual actions of hospitality.
The context that he is on the way to Jerusalem feels important here. Jesus knows there is going to be a clash of power. He knows there will be consequences, and death, and transformation. He knows there will be grief. So perhaps he is taking moments of sacredness while he can. Embracing the full range of human experience while he can. Sharing space and quality time, being welcomed into someone’s home. He wants to spend time with Martha how he’s spending time with Mary, he wants to care for her in his teaching, and is less concerned about whether the food is perfect, whether all of the right protocols of hospitality are being followed, because things are about to change. Things are already changing.
Earlier I connected this passage to the setting of a holiday gathering. With the additional context that Jesus is on his way to Jerusalem, knowing all that will bring, it can also connect to the setting of a hospice room. I wonder if Martha is worried and distracted by all of her preparations in the hope that control over her house, over the meal, might translate to feeling like she has some control over what’s going to happen next. That if she acts like it’s business as usual, hospitality as usual, that might make it true – turn this into an ordinary visit, destined to be repeated again and again, instead of what it might be – a final visit. That she might be able to push away her grief at what’s to come, her grief at the losses she has already experienced in her life, by staying busy. By being worried and distracted by ordinary, physical things. In grief, these distractions can be temporary gifts, allowing us to function in a world that asks us to function even when waves of grief are sweeping our feet out from under us.
But in this moment, with Jesus, that particular grief is still anticipatory. Jesus is still here. And so Mary is the one sitting at the hospice bedside, drinking in this time with Jesus, wishing it could last, and knowing it won’t. There is need of only one thing – being together, being with Jesus, learning and connecting and being in community. Jesus is harsh, but I imagine the conversation continuing – Martha, sit with me while you can. Being worried and distracted won’t keep me here longer. This is not an ordinary visit, or an ordinary time. Don’t regret missing this time together. Let me care for you, let me teach you, come, sit with us. The meal can wait.
In this passage, both women are breaking archetypes and expectations. Both are providing hospitality of Jesus. This is a snapshot of their life, living in community with each other, and welcoming Jesus into their home. And what I think this passage can open up for us is reflection on how we are like each of these women, inviting us to try on their wisdom.
In St. Francis’s Rule for Hermitages, he writes that some in the hermitage should be the Martha’s – cooking, cleaning, taking care of the others in their community, and some should be the Mary’s – keeping a life of prayer and contemplation, focusing on God. What is so telling is that after a determined period of time, these roles are meant to be reversed – so those who had been like Martha are contemplative like Mary, and those who had been like Mary take care of the physical needs like Martha. While this does place these women’s story into an archetype, it is not a fixed point – both women hold wisdom for us to learn from.
How are you like Martha – feeding others, caring for others, practicing the ministry of hospitality, doing the tasks that need doing, making sure people have what they need to be welcomed?
How are you like Mary – being present, practicing the ministry of listening, trusting that you are enough, making time for God, making sure people have what they need to be welcomed?
What can you learn from Martha, helping with the critical behind-the-scenes-work that is often downplayed, sharing in the work so that others can rest, providing hospitality and care for people’s material needs?
What can you learn from Mary, slowing down, opening your heart to what others are sharing with you, noticing moments of sacred time, trusting that your worthiness is not tied to your productivity, setting down the culture and cult of busyness for the sake of being with God?
May we each embody the blessings and teachings of both of these women. Amen.