Martha, Mary, Jesus and the Gang

Book of Luke 10:41-42, RSV

Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things; one thing is needful. Mary has chosen the good portion, which shall not be taken away from her.

OK that's it? What does this mean? What is the one thing that is needful? What was the "good portion" that Mary chose? What were Martha's anxieties and troubles? Why did Jesus seem to speak in Mary's defense? What was wrong with Martha's request? What just happened here?

This interchange, nestled in the Book of Luke—the gospel most affirming of women—has been the subject of countless debates amongst Christian leaders and scholars throughout the centuries. This short passage has been the talking point for theories of styles of religious life on the one hand and proclamations of the proper role for women in religious circles and society on the other. And in our tendency toward judgment and comparisons, Martha types and Mary types rose to the surface, leaving room for characterization, for competition, for choosing sides.

Elisabeth Moltman Wendel writes in her book The Women Around Jesus: "When I think of 'Martha,' a picture from a children's Bible comes to mind. In it, Mary is sitting at Jesus' feet and listening to him, while in the background Martha is leaning against the kitchen door with an evil, mistrustful look on her face. As a child, I was always sorry for anyone called Martha. The name has connotations of being especially alert, active, earthy, plump, jolly and competent. 'I'd rather have been called Ruth,' my friend Martha would say to me. There was something noble about Mary. Martha was rather common. Mary had an aura of holiness, whereas Martha breathed cooking and the smell of the kitchen."

What is odd, but predictable, is that there is no blame determined in the text. The good portion is not named the better portion. Martha is not told to be more like Mary and the one needful thing is not assigned. The common rendering explained by Elizabeth Wendell reveals our tendency to miss the point by focusing energy on trying to determine who is right and who is wrong.

I can just see the disciples (and countless, mostly male, Biblical interpreters throughout the centuries) regarding this interchange between Martha and Mary with fascination; their inner child silently saying: "cat fight!!"

Jesus, on the other hand, speaks cryptically to Martha to calm her agitation and offer a way to shift her perspective to a deeper awareness: the one needful thing.

This is the final sermon on this year's monthly sermon series on passages in the Bible. It is important to look at the Bible from time to time because it pervades social and political assumptions throughout Western culture. We are constantly asking ourselves who we might be tone another and how we might best live with one another. The answers, the accepted ways and denounced behaviors in our society, more often than not, have direct and indirect Biblical reference.

We, as Unitarian Universalists, are acutely aware of the insistent influence of the Bible in this culture, as we explore many texts and honor many wisdom traditions in the flow of truth and understanding. We observe Biblical influence in stories, songs and teachings brought home from school by our children. We detect Bible backing in the media and in the platforms of political figures. In order for us to understand motivations and perspectives in this culture, it is important for us to have a willingness to periodically consider the Bible as part of our faith history and cultural assumptions. When we do this we can step into dialogue, even guide the dialogue to a more spacious presence of understanding: a harmony which includes dissonance and resolution, octaves and unison.

So let's explore this influential story that speaks to the power of relationship to self and others, and the pitfalls we create. Let us meet, from the words of Luke and the reactions of many, Martha, Mary, Jesus and the gang.

The scene takes place in Bethany at the home of Martha and Mary, believed to be a home away from home for Jesus, who frequented there on his various sojourns as traveling teacher, master of wisdom. Their brother is Lazarus, the one said to have been risen from the dead at a later time.

According to the text, Martha receives Jesus and the disciples into her home. Now in first century Palestine, this meant that Martha, welcoming the guests of honor, was the head of the household. Martha is historically imaged as the industrious one. She is an active, independent worshipper, steadfastly aware of the work to be done and centered on the demands of service. Martha: the heralded example of righteousness by means of good works. Martha: the rough and ready advocate of the human sphere, the doer, the one who keeps the organization working to facilitate the faith community.

We also meet Mary of Bethany, the younger sister. She is not Mary Magdelena, nor Mary, the mother of Jesus. There are actually seven different Mary's identified in the New Testament. This is Mary, historically imaged as the reverent worshipper at Jesus' feet. This is the woman said to have anointed Jesus with oils a year or two later before his death. She is receptive, an open listener seeking understanding. She is respectful and selflessly devoted. Mary: the heralded example of righteousness by means of faith, giving over to the belief in a benevolent guiding force. Mary: the silent advocate, devoting her life to religious teachings in deference to a higher authority.

In Protestant tradition, Mary of Bethany, the silent faithful listener, has been more highly acclaimed. She has had more churches named after her, more art dedicated to her and more examples of righteousness attributed to her.

Unitarian Universalists and Catholic theologians lean toward Martha's position: nurturing religious faith by good works. Driven by the concerns of the human sphere, Unitarian Universalists strive to embrace and be embraced by the spirit of peoples engaged in day-to-day living.

But picking sides is not the point. In fact, when we do this, we've lost our way. When we set up the value of our lives by comparing ourselves to others, making one way of being more worthy than another, we will not come to understand that cryptic reference: the one needful thing. Too often, we set out to conquer our fear of difference by the historic claim, found in all aspects of society, that "if you are not like me, something must be wrong, either with you or with me."

I found a quote the other day by Wade Davis that highlights this tendency: "Other cultures," it reads, "are not failed attempts at being you."

Now, Martha gets the short end of the stick in the cryptic story and in historic assumptions, for Martha is specifically stereotyped, given a role in her actions. We do not know Mary's role in the household, except presently and inadvertently, Martha's foil. (Ah, sisters …)

Independent and responsible, Martha is traditionally imaged as the good housekeeper, agitated with much serving. This is damaging, because the tendency to believe that Mary won out leads readers both to diminish the value of housekeeping and to downplay Martha's worries. Even well meaning liberal theologians, given this stereotype and the mistaken tendency to take sides, return to Mary's camp. Mary, to those attempting to be 'politically correct,' then becomes not the one deferring to higher authority, but the one capable of sitting in powerful circles. This is a woman insistent on higher education. This is a woman who has rejected traditional roles, claiming the right to religious authority.

All well and good for Mary, but we see the liberation of Mary occurring at the expense of Martha, diminishing her status and stance in the faith community. No true liberation comes from lifting oneself up by putting another down. Finding worth in the negative "“we're right because we are not like them") is a destructive habit. It blocks our ability to build free and responsible communities for all peoples. It also blocks our ability to truly know the needful thing.

The Martha stereotype of service, in itself, is faulty when going back to the original text. The Greek verb used for service in this test is diakonia. This is the same verb used in Luke's second writing, the Book of Acts, as a charge to male deacons to serve the Eucharist. To serve the bread and wine. When considering the male deacons in the Book of Acts, readers assume their service, their diakonia, to be the important work of church ritual. When considering Martha's service, Martha's diakonia, readers generally assume she is doing the dishes.

Early Christians held religious gatherings in house churches, with the heads of households serving as deacons. It is not far fetched to consider that Martha, inviting Jesus (and the gang) into her house, could have served as deacon while Jesus taught. There is evidence that both men and women were deacons at the time of this writing, around year 85 of the Common Era.

A very different picture. One that could have at least helped to stem centuries of needless devaluation of women working at home. But even if Martha stands for hostess of the mostest, the one behind the scenes that enables things to happen, why is it that she is pitted against Mary? I believe it comes from an assumption of scarcity and discomfort with diversity, as if there is not enough "good portion" to go around, as if there is only one way to get there, as if the "haves" and the "have nots"is a fixed reality, as if someone else is in charge of our portion.

The discomfort of difference that Martha expresses is a clue to Jesus' advice. Martha longs for a sense of belonging, something we all struggle with. "Lord," she says, "do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone?" Feeling abandoned, she then demands of Jesus, the present authority in the home: "Tell her then to help me."

In a moment of distraction and sincere desire to do the right thing, Martha wants Mary to be who Martha is being, to do what Martha is doing. Martha, anxious and troubled about serving the others in the home, and, I imagine, doing it well, realizes that Mary is ignoring her orchestration of things. Further, what she thinks is needed to save the world at the moment is too hard to do alone… and Mary's not helping… neither are the disciples I might add. Doesn't anyone else see what needs to be done? Jesus… surely you can see the problem here. "Tell her, then, to help me."

Now this next response and how we envision it is very important. It also helps us see what we project onto women. Jesus responds my saying Martha's name twice. Now, how does he say this?

Or is it protective. "Martha, Martha…" (Mary is doing what she needs to do. It's not your place to reprimand her.)

Or … or … Is it with a sense of mutuality, an affirming of her equal status. Does it come from agape: the universal love of God. "Martha, Martha… you are anxious and troubled about many things. One thing is needful. Mary has chosen the good portion, which shall not be taken away from her."

One thing is needful. That is being who you are, from your inner truth. The good portion is your unique fullness, your authenticity, your integrity. Let go of your hyper serving, meeting everyone else's needs. Let go of the need to control the room and befriend your true self. When you find the flow of your song of being, you will serve the world in a way that does not deplete you. The good portion is an inexhaustible source within you.

Mary got it that day. Who knows, maybe she tended towards being selfish and lazy. Maybe that's why Martha was so agitated… (there she goes again!). But that day, she got it, and Martha, so concerned with everyone else and how everything was going, was missing an opportunity. And isn't it true that we can trip ourselves up on that oh so precarious path of good intentions.

There's a movie that aired some 20 years ago called "City Slickers." It is story of Mitch Robbins, a city man, anxious and troubled by many things, who joins his friends on a cattle drive to break from his pattern of bring a sense of joy back into his life. There he meets a mysterious authority figure named Curly, the leader of the expedition and an eccentric representative of wisdom from the wild. "You city folk," Curly remarks to Mitch, "you worry about a lot of garbage don't you? Do you know what the secret to life is?" "No, what?" Mitch is eager for the answer. Curly lifts up one finger. "Your finger?" Mitch is non-plussed. "One thing," remarks Curly, "You stick to that and everything else don't mean squat." "Well, that's great, but what's that one thing?" Curly cryptically responds, "that's what you got to figure out."

The one needful thing is something you have to figure out, for yourself, from yourself, within yourself. Your dignity. Your integrity. Your unique being. Your own connection with the Source of All Being.

Finding ourselves worthy can be a challenging, vulnerable journey. We can find our good portion, individually and with each other, through the nurturance of an accepting community. We do this not by divisive value judgments, but by affirmation; not by insistence on conformity, but by celebrating diversity; not by claiming stakes, but by welcoming discovery.

The tyranny of negative comparisons and stereotypes limits choice and freedom of expression. What is most needful, then, is to honor the fullness of our lives and express it from the ground of our being. The Martha-types and the Mary-types and the many more types have room enough on this earth to express their good portion. Let none of us diminish the journey of another. Let all of us find that who we are belongs in the mix of all that is.

So may it be. Amen.