H. Michael Brewer
Crescent Springs Presbyterian Church
February 25, 2007 – Lent One
MEETINGS WITH THE MASTER: Martha the Busy
Luke 10:38-42
Writer Robert Fulghum tells the story of the day his seven year old daughter Molly gave him a brown paper
bag as he left for work. As Fulghum ate lunch at his desk that day, he opened the bag from Molly and found
two hair ribbons, three small stones, a plastic dinosaur, a pencil stub, a tiny sea shell, two animal crackers, a
marble, a used lipstick, a small doll, two chocolate kisses, and 13 pennies. Fulghum smiled, finished eating,
and swept the desk clean -- into the wastebasket -- leftover lunch, Molly's junk and all.
That evening, Molly ran up behind him as he read the newspaper. "Where's my bag?"
"What bag?"
"You know, the one I gave you this morning."
"I left it at the office. Why?"
"Those are my things in the sack, Daddy, the ones I really like—I thought you might like to play with them,
but now I want them back. You didn't lose the bag, did you, Daddy?"
"Oh, no," he said, lying. "I just forgot to bring it home. I'll bring it tomorrow."
A bag filled with treasure, and he had missed it. A paper sack full of love, and he threw it away. As soon as
Molly was in bed, Fulghum rushed back to his office and gave thanks to God that he got to the trash can
ahead of the night time janitor. Sometimes we’re pretty dim about what doesn’t matter and what does.
All of which finally brings us around to Martha the sister of Mary, Martha the hostess who welcomed Jesus
into her home as he began his slow trek toward Jerusalem, Martha the bad example who has been
immortalized as an object lesson in how not to live.
I find myself on Martha’s side, wanting to defend her. We have different gifts to use in the service of Jesus.
Some soak up theology and some cook. After all, if no one stood over the stove, Jesus would starve before he
ever reached Jerusalem and then what would become of God’s plans? It’s easy to make a case for Martha
because our culture honors the Marthas above the Marys. We respect action and accomplishment.
Get’r done!
The problem is that Jesus makes it plain that Martha has somehow gotten it wrong. Is it that Jesus loves
contemplatives and doesn’t care for doers? Surely not. The problem is not that Martha is an active, hands-on
person. The problem is that she has become distracted, she’s lost touch with what matters and what doesn’t.
At that moment Martha has focused on trivialities while closing her eyes to the truly important.
What has distracted her? Perhaps she is distracted by what other people are telling her. Maybe Martha’s
been told what it takes to be a good hostess. Maybe Martha wants to be Martha Stewart—spotless house,
decorative flair, French hens with truffle and chestnut stuffing. I’m speaking tongue-in-cheek, of course, but it’s
clear Martha is running herself ragged trying to be the perfect hostess, trying to meet somebody’s standards,
trying to live up to someone’s expectations.
There are a thousand voices telling us who to be, how to live, what to reach for.
If you’re a woman, someone will tell you, “You need a career.” Someone else will tell you, “You need to be at
home raising children.” Another voice will tell you, “There must be something wrong with you if you can’t
balance marriage, parenthood, and a profession, and still make it to the gym three days a week.”
If you’re a teen, what are the voices telling you?
“It’s just sex. Have some fun.”
“No, no, abstinence is the right thing.”
“It’s okay if you really love each other.”
“Whatever you’re going to do, just be careful.”
We’re bombarded on every side with messages and propaganda.
Thank goodness we’re past Valentine’s Day. Every year the jewelry stores spend massive amounts of
money to convince us that real love is measured in carats.
In Carrollton right now are two billboards, one just above the other. If you get off there for gas or food, you’ll
see them as you come back to the interstate. The billboard on top pictures a barely dressed woman with
glistening lips who wants you to visit her at a nearby “gentlemen’s club.” I doubt if there’s man in here who
could drive by that sign without noticing.
But there’s another billboard immediately underneath where a local Baptist church has an ad of its own.
In big, bold letters, the lower sign asks, “Are your eyes fixed upon Jesus?”
Behind the humor is a serious assertion. You can’t really focus on Lady Lust and the Lord Jesus at the
same time. One has to matter more than the other.
A lot of voices out there. They aren’t all lying to us, but on the other hand they can’t all be right, either. Mary
offers us a pretty good role model here, Mary sitting at the feet of Jesus, Mary soaking up his words. The more
we filling head and heart with the voice of Jesus, the better able we are to ignore all the distracting voices, or
at least to sort out which ones make sense and which ones don’t. If you have never cultivated the habit of
listening to Jesus, this Lent is a good time to start.
Martha is also distracted by her sister Mary. To be more clear, Martha is distracted from Jesus because
she wants to fix Mary. She wants Mary to do things the right way—that is, Martha’s way. It was scandalous in
those days for a Rabbi to teach a woman. Theology was wasted on women. Why was Mary flouting the
custom of the day? Why wasn’t she serving food or freshening up drinks or washing dishes?
Martha is so unshakably certain that she knows what is right for Mary, that she appeals to Jesus to set her
sister straight. “Lord, don’t you care that I’m carrying all the load here? Mary hasn’t lifted a finger since you
walked through the door. Tell her that she should be helping me!”
We Christians are easily distracted when someone isn’t following Jesus the right way, that is, our way. Do
you remember the incident when the disciples came upon someone casting out demons in Jesus’ name?
They came back to Jesus and said, “Don’t worry, Master. We knew he wasn’t one of us, so we made him
stop.” And Jesus said, “You should have left him alone.”
“Lord, we found some Christians singing the wrong kind of songs, we found some Christians mixing
politics and faith, we found some Christians who were anti-abortion, we found some Christians who voted for
the wrong candidate, we found some Christians who were speaking in tongues. But don’t you worry, Lord, we
made them stop that stuff. We set them right. We told them to follow you the right way, the way we do.”
The New Testament makes two principles clear about life in the body of Christ. It is clear that we
accountable to one another in matters of obvious sin and destructive behavior. And it is equally clear that
beyond those matters we have no right to criticize or correct the way someone else follows Christ. We are all
servants of one Lord, and only the Lord has the right to correct his own servants.
The church would be a healthier place, and the world would take our testimony more seriously, if we quit
being distracted by trying to fix someone else’s discipleship and focused more effort on our own.
The other problem for Martha—and for many of us—is that tomorrow distracts us from today. We forget the
psalmist’s bold declaration that this day—this very day—is the day God has given us, and if we are to rejoice
in God’s goodness, we must do it today. We forget the warning of Jesus that we ought not to be anxious about
tomorrow. Let tomorrow take care of itself. Just taking care of today will be plenty for us to handle.
Jesus has probably been to Martha’s house before. She figures he’ll be back again. Next time she’ll sit
down with him. Next time they’ll make the opportunity to chat. Next time things won’t be so hectic. Even if we
don’t get around to the important things today, we’ll do better next time. There’s always a next time, isn’t there?
No, there is always a last time, but there is not always a next time.
Jesus is on his way to Jerusalem to die. The time that is left to spend with his friends and followers can
be measured in weeks. Soon it will be too late for a conversation, too late for a question, too late for a hug.
Knowing that the cross was near, what do you suppose Jesus most wanted that day in Martha’s house? An
elaborate meal? A spic and span kitchen? Or a few quiet hours to relax with good friends, a haven of comfort
before the storm began?
I empathize with Martha. I often lose my focus. I often let the urgent crowd out the crucial. I try to fix others
instead of learning from them. And I have traded many todays for hypothetical tomorrows. I’m so much like
Martha that I could take her side except for those troublesome words from Jesus. “Martha, you are anxious
and troubled about many things, but one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the good portion, which will not
be taken away from her.”
That’s what I want. I want to know the difference between the trivial and the truly important. I want my eyes
open to the thing that matters most. I want the portion that will not pass away.
I like Martha, but I want to be like Mary.
Soli Deo Gloria!