Meg Peery McLaughlin
Balancing Work
August 25, 2024
Luke 10:38-42
Prayer of Illumination
Guide us O God
By your word and spirit
That in your light we may see light
In your truth find wisdom
In your will discover your peace
Through JC our Lord Amen.
38 Now as Jesus and the disciples went on their way, Jesus entered a certain village, where a woman named Martha welcomed him into her home. 39 She had a sister named Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to what he was saying. 40 But Martha was distracted by her many tasks; so she came to him and asked, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself? Tell her then to help me.” 41 But the Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; 42 there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her.”
This is the Word of the Lord.
Thanks be to God.
This week someone asked me if we could add to the new member form and realm, our church database, a field for occupation.
It’s not a bad idea as there are a surprising amount of times where someone at church is wondering:
does UPC have any app developers?
any speech pathologists? electricians?
any insurance attorneys?
Christians use the word vocation rather than job or occupation or work.
To have a vocation is to say you have a calling:
no matter what you’re doing, you’re doing it in response to God,
giving glory to God in that action.
I’m not entirely sure, but I’d guess that historically,
we haven’t asked for your vocation in realm because
we’d never want to send any signal that any one job is better than another.
Or perhaps more importantly, the church has not wanted to participate in the kinds of idolatry that we Americans are so tempted to fall into—
The idolatry of consumerism: that we are what we have,
that our value is tied to what we own, and our paychecks reflect that.
Or the idolatry of careerism: that we are what we do,
that our worth is tied to our productivity, our success in the field, our work.
I was keenly aware of the latter this summer.
It dawned on me during this sabbatical,
that I never go anywhere – at all – without my laptop.
I was packing for my one-on-one trip with Naomi early in June,
her 13th birthday,
and in leaving that most essential work tool behind,
I realized I’ve never been on a plane without a laptop since I owned one.
You could say that this sabbatical time was Mary time.
Time to put away the tasks and sit at the feet of Jesus. To listen to his words.
Now, if you are in this very moment trying not to visibly roll your eyes at me,
don’t bother. I’m a mom and thus have the superpower of hearing eyes roll.
You can just say it:
Great Meg, so glad you had all this Mary time this summer.
Some of us had to work for their paychecks.
While you were reading and basking in creation like a stupid slow-moving sloth,
some of us had to pick up the pace and get things done,
and, cough cough, some of those things were those you left behind.
And we are now we’re in the heart of this gospel story.
It seems Luke sets us up for this intense compare and contrast—
Who is carrying what load?
Who has the luxury of making the “better choice”?
I told you last week that Naomi asked what I was preaching.
And she had something to say about it.
Well, this week it was Jarrett who asked.
Whatcha preaching on this week? Mary and Martha, I said.
Oh, great, he said, well don’t forget to remind the congregation that
I’m the Martha in our set up—
I schedule all the doctor’s appointments for the girls.
I buy all the school supplies.
I change the air filters for the HVAC.
I know exactly where Zanna’s black soccer shorts are.
Good thing he flashed his mischievous smile,
it’s the only thing that is keeping him alive to come back to you next month. : )
Women particularly react to this Mary and Martha juxtaposition.
As my New Testament prof stated it,
Mary had her buns on the floor, but
Martha had her biscuits in the oven and she needed some help !
When Jesus says that Mary has chosen the better part,
there is something deep in our
southern-hospitality-mama-raised-us-right-christian-service-oriented-
hard-working-selves that simply ignites.
I mean, I suppose I should speak for myself.
Deep breaths for a moment.
A bit of bible study teaches us that there is actually no mention of foodstuffs or a kitchen in the text – Martha is described, rather, as anxious and distracted with too much diakonia – too much ministry. Diakonia is the vocabulary of Christian ministry – of eucharistic table service and proclamation of the word – of leadership in the Christian community and on its behalf .
So Martha is busy with the work of the church,
which makes Jesus’ reprimand even more strange.
Is Christian service less important that Christian study?
Is that what Jesus is trying to tell us?
Because I’ll warn you now: that won’t go over well with Presbyterians.
Here’s where it’s helpful to remember where we find this story.
Earlier in this chapter of Luke,
a Jesus-follower whose realm profile occupation slot would read Lawyer,
asked Jesus a question.
“Teacher what must I do to inherit eternal life?”
In response, Jesus elicits from him the two great love commandments,
“You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul,
and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself.”
Luke, then, brilliantly illustrates these two commandments with two parallel stories.
One he tells about a “certain man”
a good Samaritan who in contrast against the levite and priest,
blows our definition of neighbor right out of the water
and inspires us to go and do, do the work of faith, caring for those in need.
Then, in the twin story that follows, ours for today,
He starts by saying a “certain woman”
who in contrast to her sister,
is shown to be missing out on a vital part of faith—
resting in the Word of God, being fully present to the gift of Jesus.
Do you see it?
Love God and Love Neighbor.
Do and Sit.
As Fred Craddock says:
“We must not cartoon the scene: Martha up to her eyeballs in soapsuds, Mary pensively on a stool in the den, and Jesus giving scriptural warrant for letting dishes pile high in the sink. If we censure Martha too harshly, she may abandon serving all together, and if we commend Mary too profusely, she may sit there forever. There is a time to go and do; there is a time to listen and reflect. Knowing which and when is a matter of spiritual discernment. If we were to ask Jesus which example applies to us, the Samaritan or Mary, his answer would probably be Yes .”
Once our blood pressure has settled down with this understanding,
I think it behooves us to come back to the story again,
read it without our claws out, so to speak.
And when I do that I keep stopping in the story just after Martha asks Jesus:
Lord, don’t you care?
Do you not care that my sister left me to do all the work by myself
It’s a piercing moment.
I imagine she spits those words out with
exasperation, desperation, resentment, exhaustion.
I wonder if before Jesus opens his mouth, if there was a copious amount of silence,
as her words just linger in the house.
Lord, don’t you care?
It’s less a question and more a damning kind of demand, Care! Jesus.
I know I don’t enjoy being seen as a Christian who doesn’t care.
And maybe that’s something I should be examining.
Notice that Jesus doesn’t really answer Martha’s question.
He responds. But he doesn’t say
Of course I care, Martha, don’t you know who I am?
I am Jesus! I am the MOST CARING, I am CARE INCARNATE,
I’ll give my life for the care of all creation.
How dare you ask me if I care?
Jesus says none of that.
Jesus, the loving, self-differentiated, non-anxious savior that he is,
will not get swept up in Mary’s frenetic version of caring.
He will not. And church, let us take note.
T.S. Eliot has a line in his a poem, Ash Wednesday.
Teach us to care and not care.
If I understand the text, I think that very well may be what Jesus is trying to do:
To teach us to care, but not sink under too much care.
When Martha’s question explodes from her crowded mind.
Jesus calls Martha’s name. He sees her. He loves her and
says “you are worried and distracted by many things;
there is need of only one thing.”
Never does Jesus say what that one thing is.
Never. Nowhere. And I think that’s on purpose.
It seems Jesus cares less about what the thing is,
And more about its singularity.
There is need of only one thing.
Jesus sees that Martha has a million things going on ,
And knows that none of us can sustain that.
We can’t be everything, read everything, do everything.
We can care, of course, and care deeply, but not care too much.
Teach us to care and not care.
Martha is being stretched out
Jesus is trying to bring her back to her core.
Baby steps. Mindfulness. Calm. One thing. And then another.
The story of Mary and Martha is almost-too-close-to-the-bone reminder that anxiety and worry are debilitating in the life of discipleship and that Jesus offers another way.
—
This summer, Katie Sanford lent me a book of essays by Brian Doyle and I slowly doled out the pages as one would with pieces of dark chocolate. Early on in that collection Doyle describes a gardening encounter with a shrew.
Face to face with this little mole type creature, Doyle says he paid attention with every shard and iota of my being. Maybe we couldn’t survive if we were like that all the time, he said, but when it happens we see that which none of us can find words for. Sometimes we are starving to see every bit of what is right in front of us.
Church, there is so much that clamors for our attention
but there is need of only one thing.
Whatever we write in that occupation field in realm,
should we ever add it,
whatever vocation we fulfill to God’s glory
whatever choice we make about our phones or laptops
whatever balance we strike today between
serving and studying,
doing and listening,
loving god and neighbor,
let us learn to care and not care
following in the way of the one who is life
life eternal, and life abundant.