St. Margaret's Sermon Archive
Pentecost VIII - Rev. Susan N. Blue - 7/22/07
PROPER 11
Year C, July 22, 2007
The Rev. Susan N. Blue
“But the Lord answered her, ‘Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her.’”
This has also been translated as:
“Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things. There is need of only a few things or even one.”
There is a story told that the Archbishop of Canterbury, some years ago, was rushing to catch a train in London. In his anxiety and haste, he accidentally jumped on the wrong passenger car. He found himself in a car full of inmates from a mental hospital. They were all dressed in mental hospital clothing. Just as the train pulled out of the station, an orderly came in and began to count the inmates: "1-2-3-4" when suddenly he saw this distinguished looking gentleman wearing a business suit and a clerical collar. He said: "Who are you?" The answer came back: "I am the Archbishop of Canterbury!" The orderly continued: "5-6-7-8." (Copied)
We live in a time of high anxiety…we expect so very much of ourselves and of others; we are besieged with warnings about terrorists since nine eleven; and we are presented with an infinite number of choices regarding how we should spend our time that we cannot possibly do even a fraction of them. Robert Frost once said: "The reason worry kills more people than work is that more people worry than work."(Copied) Frequently we don't even realize how anxious we have become. The realization only hits us when we take time off and genuinely relax. I learned this in Durango when I slept ten plus hours my second day there. I wasn't less active during my time there, but rather active without anxiety. When we genuinely enjoy our activity we can usually do it with a minimum of anxiety.
The reality is that we do worry; to worry is to be human. It is only when it overshadows the wonderful things in life that we find it to be life-draining rather than life-giving.
Our Gospel this morning, exclusive to Luke, of Mary and Martha is the third in a series of stories of hospitality. Last week we heard of the hospitality of the Good Samaritan who stopped to care for the beaten man. The lawyer who asked Jesus how to attain eternal life was told by Jesus to “go and do likewise.” The week before Jesus sent out the twelve to preach the Gospel telling them that, if they were not received in a given town, to “shake the dust from their feet.” Hospitality is fundamental to the Gospel and the grounds for the inclusion of all people.
There is nothing traditional about either Mary or Martha in this story. Martha was obviously the homeowner who welcomed Jesus to her home. This role would, in the ancient Near East, have been filled by a male householder. She offered him traditional hospitality and, in a profound way, he became the host. Mary, on the other hand, sat at Jesus’ feet – the position of student to teacher, traditionally a male role. Her listening was about learning and being taught.
From the outset, we see that, as Homily Service (July 18, 2004; 37(8):25-34, Copyright the Liturgical Conference) says: “The hospitality of Jesus Christ has no circumference, no boundaries.” This understanding is further supported by stories of Jesus eating with tax collectors and prostitutes, the outcasts of society, and his healing of many who were pariahs and understood to be unclean.
What could Jesus have meant here? Was he disciplining Martha when she was only doing that which was traditional in that society? The simplistic explanation often given is that Martha represented the active life and Mary the contemplative. Martha dealt in works, Mary in faith. If we look at the passage in detail we find that Jesus didn’t tell Martha to stop being hospitable, but to stop being anxious about it, nor did he tell Mary that she never had to help with chores again, but that she had chosen the appropriate priority for that moment in time.(AHA, July 18, 2004, p. 13.)
We, too, like Martha, can be so caught up in what we are doing, in the minutiae of life, that we miss the important piece, our relationship to God in prayer. Oemig tells about a cartoon picturing a paunchy, middle-aged business man in which he awkwardly kneels down by his bed and begins his prayers by saying, “You probably don’t remember me, but…” (Synthesis, July 19, 1998, p. 4) That is not to say, however, that prayer and contemplation form the whole of the Christian life. We are adjured, like the lawyer in the parable of the Good Samaritan, to ‘go and do likewise,’ to care for our brothers and sisters.
Luke's point is that there are two parts to the Christian life…prayer and contemplation and action; loving God and then loving self and neighbor. This story tells us that there is an order to these…that prayer, listening, being present precede and ground works and action. This has profound implications for those of us at St. Margaret’s. If in our commendable works of outreach and seeking justice we are not grounded in prayer and worship we become just another non-profit, highly productive but not living the Gospel. If, however, we are a community that engages only in worship and prayer while ignoring the crying needs of the world around us we are not living the Gospel.
We are challenged both to contemplation and to action. Let us find time this summer to be quiet, to set aside regular time for prayer, even if it is only five minutes a day. God does not ask a great deal of us; God knows how much work there is to be done in the world. We are asked, however, to show up, to stop, to listen attentively, to be come centered and ordered. With this under girding we are energized to both see and stop for the one who has been shoved to the side of the road. We can learn to stop everything, to listen and to be fully present for God and for one another. Let us pray in the collect for today:
“Almighty God, the fountain of all wisdom, you know our necessities before we ask and our ignorance in asking: Have compassion on our weakness, and mercifully give us those things which for our unworthiness we dare not, and for our blindness we cannot ask; through the worthiness of your Son Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. AMEN
Year C, July 22, 2007
The Rev. Susan N. Blue
“But the Lord answered her, ‘Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her.’”
This has also been translated as:
“Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things. There is need of only a few things or even one.”
There is a story told that the Archbishop of Canterbury, some years ago, was rushing to catch a train in London. In his anxiety and haste, he accidentally jumped on the wrong passenger car. He found himself in a car full of inmates from a mental hospital. They were all dressed in mental hospital clothing. Just as the train pulled out of the station, an orderly came in and began to count the inmates: "1-2-3-4" when suddenly he saw this distinguished looking gentleman wearing a business suit and a clerical collar. He said: "Who are you?" The answer came back: "I am the Archbishop of Canterbury!" The orderly continued: "5-6-7-8." (Copied)
We live in a time of high anxiety…we expect so very much of ourselves and of others; we are besieged with warnings about terrorists since nine eleven; and we are presented with an infinite number of choices regarding how we should spend our time that we cannot possibly do even a fraction of them. Robert Frost once said: "The reason worry kills more people than work is that more people worry than work."(Copied) Frequently we don't even realize how anxious we have become. The realization only hits us when we take time off and genuinely relax. I learned this in Durango when I slept ten plus hours my second day there. I wasn't less active during my time there, but rather active without anxiety. When we genuinely enjoy our activity we can usually do it with a minimum of anxiety.
The reality is that we do worry; to worry is to be human. It is only when it overshadows the wonderful things in life that we find it to be life-draining rather than life-giving.
Our Gospel this morning, exclusive to Luke, of Mary and Martha is the third in a series of stories of hospitality. Last week we heard of the hospitality of the Good Samaritan who stopped to care for the beaten man. The lawyer who asked Jesus how to attain eternal life was told by Jesus to “go and do likewise.” The week before Jesus sent out the twelve to preach the Gospel telling them that, if they were not received in a given town, to “shake the dust from their feet.” Hospitality is fundamental to the Gospel and the grounds for the inclusion of all people.
There is nothing traditional about either Mary or Martha in this story. Martha was obviously the homeowner who welcomed Jesus to her home. This role would, in the ancient Near East, have been filled by a male householder. She offered him traditional hospitality and, in a profound way, he became the host. Mary, on the other hand, sat at Jesus’ feet – the position of student to teacher, traditionally a male role. Her listening was about learning and being taught.
From the outset, we see that, as Homily Service (July 18, 2004; 37(8):25-34, Copyright the Liturgical Conference) says: “The hospitality of Jesus Christ has no circumference, no boundaries.” This understanding is further supported by stories of Jesus eating with tax collectors and prostitutes, the outcasts of society, and his healing of many who were pariahs and understood to be unclean.
What could Jesus have meant here? Was he disciplining Martha when she was only doing that which was traditional in that society? The simplistic explanation often given is that Martha represented the active life and Mary the contemplative. Martha dealt in works, Mary in faith. If we look at the passage in detail we find that Jesus didn’t tell Martha to stop being hospitable, but to stop being anxious about it, nor did he tell Mary that she never had to help with chores again, but that she had chosen the appropriate priority for that moment in time.(AHA, July 18, 2004, p. 13.)
We, too, like Martha, can be so caught up in what we are doing, in the minutiae of life, that we miss the important piece, our relationship to God in prayer. Oemig tells about a cartoon picturing a paunchy, middle-aged business man in which he awkwardly kneels down by his bed and begins his prayers by saying, “You probably don’t remember me, but…” (Synthesis, July 19, 1998, p. 4) That is not to say, however, that prayer and contemplation form the whole of the Christian life. We are adjured, like the lawyer in the parable of the Good Samaritan, to ‘go and do likewise,’ to care for our brothers and sisters.
Luke's point is that there are two parts to the Christian life…prayer and contemplation and action; loving God and then loving self and neighbor. This story tells us that there is an order to these…that prayer, listening, being present precede and ground works and action. This has profound implications for those of us at St. Margaret’s. If in our commendable works of outreach and seeking justice we are not grounded in prayer and worship we become just another non-profit, highly productive but not living the Gospel. If, however, we are a community that engages only in worship and prayer while ignoring the crying needs of the world around us we are not living the Gospel.
We are challenged both to contemplation and to action. Let us find time this summer to be quiet, to set aside regular time for prayer, even if it is only five minutes a day. God does not ask a great deal of us; God knows how much work there is to be done in the world. We are asked, however, to show up, to stop, to listen attentively, to be come centered and ordered. With this under girding we are energized to both see and stop for the one who has been shoved to the side of the road. We can learn to stop everything, to listen and to be fully present for God and for one another. Let us pray in the collect for today:
“Almighty God, the fountain of all wisdom, you know our necessities before we ask and our ignorance in asking: Have compassion on our weakness, and mercifully give us those things which for our unworthiness we dare not, and for our blindness we cannot ask; through the worthiness of your Son Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. AMEN