July 22, 2007

By Harry T. Cook
Luke 10: 38-42
More mistaken and unhelpful sermons have been committed using this passage – the depiction of Jesus stopping by the Bethany home of Martha and Mary – than we might attempt to count. Most that it has been my misfortune to have heard used this text to offer women of the church one of two roles: 1) the busy domestic (like the apron-clad ladies in the kitchen who are called out by the pastor to be applauded for their delicious ham and escalloped potatoes and apple pie) or 2) the silent, adoring type who sits at the feet of her male master.

It is anybody’s guess as to what Luke was up to in this particular narrative, beyond reminding the reader that a journey is in progress (Bethany was on Jesus’ way from the Galilee to Jerusalem). The one broad hint that should not go unnoticed is the clear depiction of Mary as a disciple. Part of following a leader is to listen to what he or she has to say, which is how Mary is portrayed in this scene of Luke’s creation.

In the passage just previous a lawyer wanted to know what he had to do to inherit eternal life – and since he pressed the point about who was his neighbor anyway, the answer was: “Don’t treat your enemy as an enemy but as a neighbor” (the parable of the neighborly Samaritan). That’s one way to be a disciple of Jesus. Another is to arrange one’s life as Mary arranged hers: to be available to her teacher when he was available to her and not to be distracted about other matters however pressing.

I think this passage is an unmistakable challenge to a male-dominated ecclesiastical system. If Mary was a disciple, then she was on par with Peter, James and John and the rest of the 12. Did they listen to Jesus as intently as Mary listened? Why were they depicted as running for cover when the end came for Jesus? At least women came to the grave.

Luke has Jesus tell Mary that, in waiting upon him as a willing pupil, she had chosen the better part and opposed to Martha who, in waiting upon him as a host and server, had chosen a lesser part. The Greek adjective in this text actually means “good” rather than “better,” but in our English syntax “better” is used when there are but two alternatives. Yet there are choices for discipleship other than the ones Mary and Martha chose, and some of them would be “good.”

A recent article in The New Yorker – whether fiction or not, I do not know – is the first person account of a Jewish man who remembers his father as a profane curmudgeon whose only joy in life was to make things out of wood. When the rabbi asked the father to make a new Ark of the Covenant for the synagogue, the profane curmudgeon turns his genius with wood and tools into a thing of rare beauty. That was his way of being faithful.

In our tradition, we might say that following Jesus in whatever way one can is the good or better part. Why was Martha’s way not the better one? Because she was distracted from her discipleship is why. It’s not that cooking and serving can’t be discipleship. Think of our work at the city soup kitchen or the homeless shelter. It depends, I guess, on how and for whom one does such tasks and to what end.

Another way of understanding Jesus’ gentle scolding of Martha is to be found later in the gospel where Luke gives Jesus this line: I am among you as one who serves. That is the pay-off line in his remonstrating with the disciples over who is the greatest among them. Perhaps Luke’s Jesus is making that same point in telling Martha, in effect, “I didn’t come here to eat, and I don’t want to be fawned over. Just come over here and listen to what I have to say.”
Keep in mind that the same writer – Luke – gave us the story of the apostles appointing deacons to wait on table because the apostles’ calling was to preach.

What was in Luke’s fertile imagination by way of what Jesus may have been telling Mary that was more important than Martha’s soufflé? Remember again that Luke’s whole narrative is the story of a journey from Jesus’ birth to his death – and, not so many miles by our reckoning, from Galilee to Judea. Maybe Luke imagined that Jesus wanted to impart certain urgent information or teaching to his friends because he might not come that way again.

Luke has already told us that Jesus had resolutely set his face toward Jerusalem – the Greek in that text conveys the idea of a jut-out jaw –so the purpose of stopping in at the house in Bethany might have been for a kind of valedictory and not merely to sample the cuisine. He had come to make some disciples, and Mary clearly understood that. Maybe it took Martha a while longer.

So often the life of the Christian community is dilatory in nature as if not much is at stake, as if there were no “journey” under way. The church, like dear Martha, has become adept and efficient at doing business as usual, and therefore misses an enormous reality hidden in plain sight. Jesus evidently saw life as a magnificent opportunity to turn the world upside down, substituting love for hate, giving for grabbing, peace for war and equity for disparity. That may have been what Mary heard that day in her house at Bethany. Martha would have heard it, too, had she not been in the kitchen.

© Copyright 2007, Harry T. Cook. All rights reserved. This article may not be used or reproduced without proper credit.