Homily for July 22, 2007 16th Sunday in Ordinary Time
Gospel
Lk 10:38-42
Jesus entered a village
where a woman whose name was Martha welcomed him.
She had a sister named Mary
who sat beside the Lord at his feet listening to him speak.
Martha, burdened with much serving, came to him and said,
“Lord, do you not care
that my sister has left me by myself to do the serving?
Tell her to help me.”
The Lord said to her in reply,
“Martha, Martha, you are anxious and worried about many things.
There is need of only one thing.
Mary has chosen the better part
and it will not be taken from her.”
How many of you feel tension in the Gospel today? Just let me ask how many of you think Martha is not being treated fairly? Okay. And I want to acknowledge that. I've had a lot of conversations with different people about this Gospel in the last week, and some of the things I've heard – well - if you're a woman who loves to be in the kitchen and prepare a delicious meal and cook, this Gospel is an insult. Or if you value being efficient and caring for things, then this Gospel can come across as an insult. And I want to say I have heard a lot of god-awful sermons on this Gospel, and I hope not to repeat one this morning. If you feel a tension, it's good. And let me say first of all, Martha and Mary are sisters. They probably loved each other very much. They probably appreciated each other and got along with each other and needed each other, and they lived together very well. So I don't think they would appreciate our taking a momentary tiff between the two and making it into a Federal case and a big theological exposition. I think they would insist that they really like each other. And you know, they appear together many times in the Gospel. Whenever they appear, Mary tends to be seated at the Lord's feet, and Martha appears to be the practical one. There's another banquet in their home in Bethany where Mary is the one who breaks the jar of ointment and anoints Jesus' feet. And everybody says, "What a waste." When their brother Lazarus died, it was Martha who went out to meet Jesus and Mary sat at home. Martha confronted Jesus and said, "Lord, where were you? If you'd been here my brother wouldn't have died." And Jesus got in a theological argument with her and talked about the resurrection. Mary came and fell at His feet and said the same thing, and Jesus broke down in tears. But I think He loved them both. And oh, by the way, there's a German theologian, Elizabeth Jurgen Moltman, who points out that there were other stories of Martha in the later history of the church. One of them has Lazarus as a bishop in southern Italy and he's kind of a wimpy bishop, and Martha is the power behind the throne. And in the Middle Ages when there was a strong period of feminism in the church, when women were deciding that they could have their own monasteries and did not need to live under the protection of men, devotion to Martha was very strong. There were even images of Martha the Dragon Slayer that had Martha catching the dragon in her girdle and slaying it. So there are some positive images of Martha. But back to the readings today. I was looking for stories that would ease the tension between Martha and Mary. I heard some good ones. One of them said, "Well maybe in today's world Mary would say to Martha, 'Martha, I know you'd like to be in on the discussion too. Let's send out for carry out and bring it in.'" That's a little too practical for Mary. Maybe Martha would have suggested that instead of Mary. Another story I heard was maybe Jesus would go in the kitchen and start peeling an onion and invite everybody into the kitchen for the discussion, so that everybody could participate. Those were both good stories, but I think what they both had in mind is they took away the tension. I'd like to share another story that preserves the tension. I went to see a wonderful movie last week, "Evening." It's up at Keystone Art. It's about a woman who is dying, and her two children are attending her at the bedside. And as she lies in bed dying she remembers her life, and there are many beautiful scenes in this movie. One of them is from when she was a young mother, and she's cooking dinner and is harried to get dinner finished. And her daughter is sitting at the table wanting her attention and crying and pouting, and she' beginning to get a little impatient with the daughter. And then her husband comes with the other daughter and says, "Here," and he hands her the daughter because he has more important things to do. And so there she is feeling this tension, and suddenly she abandons the dinner and begins to sing a song to the two children. And as you see her sitting singing a song to the children and the children smiling, you also see dinner boiling over on the stove, making a mess, but somehow you know it's okay. I'd like to think that in that moment she chose the better part. Do you know what I mean? Now, in the ideal world the children would sit there patiently while she cooked dinner. They would enjoy a lovely dinner and then sit and have a wonderful conversation. But you know, life ain't like that, is it? I would like to think that in the ideal world I would have time to do all of my tasks: I would have time to care for myself; I would have time to exercise; I would have time to pray; I would have time to read and feed my soul and do everything. Is there anybody here for whom life is like that? Usually if I want to find time to listen to life; if I want to find time to listen to my children or my spouse; if I want time to attend to my soul; usually I'm going to have to make choices. I'm going to have to say no to something. And in the world in which we live, what am I going to have to say no to? Some of the social expectations of efficiency, of having everything managed and in place, and everything done well. I was talking to somebody who pointed out to me that when I was growing up, a woman was judged by how clean her house was, how well dressed her children were. Can you throw out some other things? And happily, a lot of young mothers today are finding freedom from that, and they're finding the freedom maybe to neglect the house and spend time doing things with their children. That's one example. Often I find that I come to appreciate myself for who I am rather than for my achievements, or what I'm able to do, or what I'm able to accomplish, or the number of things that I'm involved in. That appreciation doesn't come easily. For me, and for a lot of people, it comes only when there's a breakdown and I realize that I have failed to meet all the other expectations, and I learn to value myself for who I am, not for what I do or what I achieve. In any event, I think there is a tension there. And as I said last week, Jesus deliberately chooses a story in which the woman who chose the better part is the woman who stepped out of all of the social boundaries and social expectations and did what you didn't expect a woman to do in His culture. I wonder what kind of story He'd tell today. I don't know - maybe this thing of the better part, which comes, I think, only in moments of pauses when we step back and when we achieve the freedom in our life to respond to something deeper. It's not something you can define. It's not something you can grasp once and for all. But if you taste it, you know that it won't be taken from you, and maybe you get at it only by telling a lot of stories. So I want to close by reaffirming that Martha and Mary are sisters who love each other very much and who need each other, and invite your imagination about what other stories of Martha and Mary you might tell.
Lk 10:38-42
Jesus entered a village
where a woman whose name was Martha welcomed him.
She had a sister named Mary
who sat beside the Lord at his feet listening to him speak.
Martha, burdened with much serving, came to him and said,
“Lord, do you not care
that my sister has left me by myself to do the serving?
Tell her to help me.”
The Lord said to her in reply,
“Martha, Martha, you are anxious and worried about many things.
There is need of only one thing.
Mary has chosen the better part
and it will not be taken from her.”
How many of you feel tension in the Gospel today? Just let me ask how many of you think Martha is not being treated fairly? Okay. And I want to acknowledge that. I've had a lot of conversations with different people about this Gospel in the last week, and some of the things I've heard – well - if you're a woman who loves to be in the kitchen and prepare a delicious meal and cook, this Gospel is an insult. Or if you value being efficient and caring for things, then this Gospel can come across as an insult. And I want to say I have heard a lot of god-awful sermons on this Gospel, and I hope not to repeat one this morning. If you feel a tension, it's good. And let me say first of all, Martha and Mary are sisters. They probably loved each other very much. They probably appreciated each other and got along with each other and needed each other, and they lived together very well. So I don't think they would appreciate our taking a momentary tiff between the two and making it into a Federal case and a big theological exposition. I think they would insist that they really like each other. And you know, they appear together many times in the Gospel. Whenever they appear, Mary tends to be seated at the Lord's feet, and Martha appears to be the practical one. There's another banquet in their home in Bethany where Mary is the one who breaks the jar of ointment and anoints Jesus' feet. And everybody says, "What a waste." When their brother Lazarus died, it was Martha who went out to meet Jesus and Mary sat at home. Martha confronted Jesus and said, "Lord, where were you? If you'd been here my brother wouldn't have died." And Jesus got in a theological argument with her and talked about the resurrection. Mary came and fell at His feet and said the same thing, and Jesus broke down in tears. But I think He loved them both. And oh, by the way, there's a German theologian, Elizabeth Jurgen Moltman, who points out that there were other stories of Martha in the later history of the church. One of them has Lazarus as a bishop in southern Italy and he's kind of a wimpy bishop, and Martha is the power behind the throne. And in the Middle Ages when there was a strong period of feminism in the church, when women were deciding that they could have their own monasteries and did not need to live under the protection of men, devotion to Martha was very strong. There were even images of Martha the Dragon Slayer that had Martha catching the dragon in her girdle and slaying it. So there are some positive images of Martha. But back to the readings today. I was looking for stories that would ease the tension between Martha and Mary. I heard some good ones. One of them said, "Well maybe in today's world Mary would say to Martha, 'Martha, I know you'd like to be in on the discussion too. Let's send out for carry out and bring it in.'" That's a little too practical for Mary. Maybe Martha would have suggested that instead of Mary. Another story I heard was maybe Jesus would go in the kitchen and start peeling an onion and invite everybody into the kitchen for the discussion, so that everybody could participate. Those were both good stories, but I think what they both had in mind is they took away the tension. I'd like to share another story that preserves the tension. I went to see a wonderful movie last week, "Evening." It's up at Keystone Art. It's about a woman who is dying, and her two children are attending her at the bedside. And as she lies in bed dying she remembers her life, and there are many beautiful scenes in this movie. One of them is from when she was a young mother, and she's cooking dinner and is harried to get dinner finished. And her daughter is sitting at the table wanting her attention and crying and pouting, and she' beginning to get a little impatient with the daughter. And then her husband comes with the other daughter and says, "Here," and he hands her the daughter because he has more important things to do. And so there she is feeling this tension, and suddenly she abandons the dinner and begins to sing a song to the two children. And as you see her sitting singing a song to the children and the children smiling, you also see dinner boiling over on the stove, making a mess, but somehow you know it's okay. I'd like to think that in that moment she chose the better part. Do you know what I mean? Now, in the ideal world the children would sit there patiently while she cooked dinner. They would enjoy a lovely dinner and then sit and have a wonderful conversation. But you know, life ain't like that, is it? I would like to think that in the ideal world I would have time to do all of my tasks: I would have time to care for myself; I would have time to exercise; I would have time to pray; I would have time to read and feed my soul and do everything. Is there anybody here for whom life is like that? Usually if I want to find time to listen to life; if I want to find time to listen to my children or my spouse; if I want time to attend to my soul; usually I'm going to have to make choices. I'm going to have to say no to something. And in the world in which we live, what am I going to have to say no to? Some of the social expectations of efficiency, of having everything managed and in place, and everything done well. I was talking to somebody who pointed out to me that when I was growing up, a woman was judged by how clean her house was, how well dressed her children were. Can you throw out some other things? And happily, a lot of young mothers today are finding freedom from that, and they're finding the freedom maybe to neglect the house and spend time doing things with their children. That's one example. Often I find that I come to appreciate myself for who I am rather than for my achievements, or what I'm able to do, or what I'm able to accomplish, or the number of things that I'm involved in. That appreciation doesn't come easily. For me, and for a lot of people, it comes only when there's a breakdown and I realize that I have failed to meet all the other expectations, and I learn to value myself for who I am, not for what I do or what I achieve. In any event, I think there is a tension there. And as I said last week, Jesus deliberately chooses a story in which the woman who chose the better part is the woman who stepped out of all of the social boundaries and social expectations and did what you didn't expect a woman to do in His culture. I wonder what kind of story He'd tell today. I don't know - maybe this thing of the better part, which comes, I think, only in moments of pauses when we step back and when we achieve the freedom in our life to respond to something deeper. It's not something you can define. It's not something you can grasp once and for all. But if you taste it, you know that it won't be taken from you, and maybe you get at it only by telling a lot of stories. So I want to close by reaffirming that Martha and Mary are sisters who love each other very much and who need each other, and invite your imagination about what other stories of Martha and Mary you might tell.
Labels: Homilies
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