Dr. William A. Ritter
First United Methodist Church
Birmingham, Michigan
Scripture: Luke 10:38-42
Dorothy Nickel was a Martha. More to the point, Dorothy is still a Martha. Now living with her husband, Warren, in our Clark United Methodist Home in Grand Rapids, I talked with her just a few months ago. But the years when Dorothy and I crossed paths weekly (if not daily) were my Dearborn years at the beginning of my ministry, where Dorothy and Warren could not have been any kinder to me, to Kris, or to anybody else for that matter. Dorothy was the ultimate behind-the-scenes dispenser of Christian charity and performer of good works. Casseroles to the sick. Cards to the lonely. Flowers to the grieving. Clothing collected here and recycled there. Need a driver….need a donor….need a server….need a chief cook and bottle washer….Dorothy would do it, uncomplainingly and well. She took me under her wing until my soft, downy ministerial feathers hardened into a tough-enough skin to enable me to survive ecclesiastical life in a local congregation.
Early on in our relationship, Dorothy said to me….in the church kitchen, as I remember it…. “Bill, you don’t know me all that well. But when you get to know me better, you’ll learn that I’m a Martha.” Which, when I thought about it later, was not so much her way of telling me who she was, but who she wasn’t. She wasn’t Mary. Meaning that while I would see her in church, I shouldn’t expect to see her in front of the church. While I would see her reading, I should never expect to see her teaching. And while her daily planner would record the comings and goings of a life of lived-out prayer, I shouldn’t call upon her to pray in public or lead a 24-hour prayer retreat. Organize it, maybe. Drive the van to it, probably. Prepare and serve meals at it, likely. Whitewash rocks for an outdoor meditation circle overlooking the lake, certainly. Bake bread for the closing communion service, unquestionably. Good things. Practical things. Needful things. Which, across the years, have become identified as Martha-type things.
As to whether First Church, Dearborn has ever been able to replace her, I cannot say. Given the number of years she’s been gone, I am sure they have. But I wonder how many people it took. More than one, I reckon.
All of which comes to mind every time I read this little five-verse story in Luke. The story is simple. Jesus is coming from north to south….from Galilee to Jerusalem….when he pauses in a small village and accepts an invitation from a woman named Martha. It is entirely possible that the village is Bethany (a mere seven miles from Jerusalem). And it is equally possible that this is the same Martha of “Martha, Mary and Lazarus” fame, who figure so prominently in the gospel of John…. where they are identified as good friends of Jesus at whose home he often stopped. But if this is true, Luke does not say it. Nor does he seem to know it. Meaning that Martha and Mary could be anybody to Jesus. Or they could be prior friends.
No matter. The story speaks for itself. What we’ve got is Jesus….on the road….in a home…. along about mealtime….with two sisters (of different temperaments and inclinations). The text doesn’t tell us a whole lot. But it does tell us that Mary sits at Jesus’ feet, listening to his teachings, while Martha busies herself with much serving. The text does not say “with much cooking.” But in the days before carryout chicken and home-delivered pizza, one can safely assume that serving implies cooking. The text also says that Martha is “worried and distracted”….dare we say “irritated”….and wonders aloud why she (Martha) is on her feet, while her sister (Mary) is on her….whatever. Whereupon Jesus identifies Martha’s problem not as overwork, but as anxiety, and dares to suggest that Mary has something that Martha could use a lot more of….namely, himself.
Which is, when you think about it, something of a put-down of Martha. At least it feels like a put-down of Martha. And it is virtually always preached as a put-down of Martha.
But I have noticed something odd over the course of my ministry. I have had any number of women identify themselves to me as a “Martha.” But I can’t recall that anybody has ever identified herself to me as a “Mary.” Not that I haven’t known some. But none of the Marys of my acquaintance have willingly owned their identity (at least out loud). Funny, isn’t it, that Martha, as the lesser character….or as the seemingly-lesser character….is widely embraced, while Mary, whose “part” Jesus said was the “greater part,” is seldom embraced by women of the church. In other words, why would church women identify more readily with the scolded character than with the praised one? A feminist scholar could have a field day with that one. But I will simply point it out and leave it alone.
I do, however, have some comments to make on the text. And it seems that the best way to organize them is around the three characters in the story, namely Martha, Jesus and Mary (in that order). Martha first.
I do not know everything Jesus feels about Martha. But I am here to tell you that if she didn’t exist, the church would have to invent her. Which is why the church loves her. Because the church desperately needs her. So it rewards her. Which, in turn, puts out the welcome mat for more of her.
And not just for her, but for her husband. I am talking about Mr. Martha. Don’t tell me she didn’t have a husband. I know better. Because I see her husbands over all this church. Martha was a bigamist….praise God. And I can’t imagine life in the local church without Martha’s multiple offspring of either gender.
Three weeks ago, to this very day, I was trailing my wife through an antique shop in Kennebunkport, Maine, when I came across a dust-covered frame holding an artistically-embellished poem. I quickly discerned that it was a poem about today’s text. And I secondarily discerned, upon locating the price tag, that I was unwilling to purchase it (just so that I could hold it before you as a sermon prop). So while my wife and the proprietress were otherwise occupied….buying and selling, as it were….I copied it so that I could read it to you this morning.
Lord of all pots and pans and things,
Since I’ve not time to be
A saint by doing lovely things
Or watching late with Thee,
Or dreaming in the dawning light,
Or storming heaven’s gates,
Make me a saint by getting meals
And washing up the plates.
Warm all the kitchen with thy love
And light it with thy peace.
Forgive me all my worrying
And make my grumbling cease.
Thou who didst love to give men food
In room, or by the sea;
Accept this service that I do,
I do it unto thee.
--Klara Monkres
Quite apart from the pedestrian quality of the poetry, it occurred to me that many of you might like it. Just as many of you, upon learning of her, readily identify with Martha. That’s because temperamentally, there are far more Marthas in the world than Marys. Hear me out.
Many of you have taken the Myers-Briggs Typology Inventory, if not here at church with Dick Cheatham, then at the university where you study or the industry where you work. You know whether you are an INTJ, an ESFP, or any one of the 16 possible combinations….I won’t stop to explain them here. And you know that for purposes of simplification, these 16 categories have been boiled down into four basic temperaments labeled SP, SJ, NF and NT. What you probably do not know is that in addition to having enormous impacts on your marital, familial and workplace interactions, much has been written about how each of these four temperaments impact your life in a local church….in short, how you approach things like religion, worship and prayer.
Focus on the SPs of the world, often called the artisans. These people are flexible, free-flowing, adaptable and easy to get along with. They live in the present (rather than the past or future) and prefer a life of action over contemplation. They like their reality literal, not symbolic….simple, rather than complex. For them, work is prayer, and they love to work with their hands or tools. They would find a liturgical retreat boring, and a silent-contemplative retreat positively stifling. In fact, they wouldn’t sign up unless they were given something to do (drive the bus….bake the bread….or carve little communion cups from blocks of balsa wood).
Now throw in the SJs. Unlike the SPs, SJs have a strong sense of tradition and prize their continuity with the past. Which is why they tend to appreciate liturgy. But they are also extremely practical and are possessed of a strong work ethic. SJs desire to care for those in need and have a desire to be useful. Religiously, they would much rather give than receive.
Both groups are filled, don’t you see, with Marthas. And how many SPs and SJs are there as a percentage of society? Over seventy percent….that’s how many. Which means that seventy percent of church members are temperamentally inclined to Martha-like behavior. Which is why most church people, in confronting a hard-to-resolve problem, are far more likely to respond to suggestions of what they might do, than about how they might pray. Or when I suggested to a man that he might “pray about it,” he answered: “And then what?”
Enough about Martha. Let’s turn to Jesus. Who, in his own life, needed somebody to behave in a Martha-like fashion. I mean, somebody had to cook, wash clothes, buy food and count money. As I recall, someone was dispatched, by Jesus, to make dinner arrangements….upstairs….in Jerusalem….on a Thursday. Just as someone else was dispatched to borrow a colt….four days previous….to ride down a mountain….on a Sunday. And it was Jesus (in the story Luke told just before this one) who praised a man who stumbled upon a mugging victim….bandaged him up….lifted him up….delivered him up….and then anted up….leading Jesus to say: “You want to see what I mean by ‘neighbor?’ That guy is what I mean by ‘neighbor.’” No, Jesus is not without a warm spot in his heart for Marthas.
So what is this about? Well, part of it is about timing. Earlier, I said that Jesus was on his way from Galilee to Jerusalem….his last visit to Jerusalem….his dying visit to Jerusalem. Does he know that this is his “dying visit?” It would seem that he senses it. Which certainly changes his demeanor. And which certainly changes the tone of his encounters. After all, don’t most people suspend normal routines at such moments? I certainly think they do.
It is 10:30 at night. Your daughter calls from the car phone to tell you that the love of her life has just slipped an incredible diamond on her finger. She wants to swing by and show you. You don’t say: “We’d love to see it. But tomorrow’s a work day. And when tomorrow is a work day, we are always in bed by 10:30 and asleep by 10:45. Why don’t you come by on the weekend? That way, we’ll have more time.” You wouldn’t say that. Please tell me you wouldn’t say that.
Or perhaps a college friend calls from the airport. You haven’t seen him in 35 years. But he remembers that you live in the general vicinity and tracks your name through the phone directory. He has three hours before his connecting flight. What do you do? You drop everything and go to the airport. That’s what you do.
Or your son finishes basic training and has one day before shipping out….a Monday. But Monday is your wash day. And most Monday afternoons you go to K-Mart. But you don’t tell that to your son. Of course you don’t tell that to your son.
I was talking this over with Dick Cheatham when he suddenly started to sing an old World War II song. Not one that I remembered. But I can see how Dick would. It was recorded by the Hoosier Hotshots. Surely, you remember them. The song depicts a father who hears a doorbell and opens the door to greet the surprise arrival of their boy….in full uniform….home from Germany. Whereupon dad turns in the general direction of the kitchen and sings:
Leave the dishes in the sink, Ma,
Leave the dishes in the sink.
Each dirty plate will have to wait,
Tonight we’re gonna celebrate,
So leave the dishes in the sink.
Sometimes you drop everything when the beloved makes an entrance, no matter how unexpected or unannounced.
But enough about Jesus. How about Mary? What makes hers “the better part?” Well, that’s harder to define. But it’s not because spiritual things always trump practical things. No, that’s not it at all. For I would contend that hands-on work….practical work….Martha-type work….can often be incredibly spiritual, and that “serving” Jesus is a wonderful way of attending Jesus (and as good a means of praying as ever there was).
No, Mary’s part is “better,” because it suggests an antidote to the inevitable frustration experienced by those who serve. Martha’s sin….if there is one….is not the sin of dishing plates or washing plates, but becoming anxious and irritated that everyone else isn’t doing it and applauding it.
I know the feeling. I sometimes get frustrated, even with you….when you don’t work as hard as I do….go as far as I go….care about the same issues….put your shoulder to the same plows….or log the same number of hours. “Lord,” I cry, “do something about this.”
That’s one frustration. And the second flows from it. In addition to sometimes feeling unsupported, preachers have a tendency to feel that their labors are unrewarded. I’m not talking “finances” here….but something deeper. Everything I want to fix, doesn’t get fixed. Or stay fixed. People don’t stay fixed. Churches don’t stay fixed. Society doesn’t stay fixed. Sin….especially sin….doesn’t stay fixed. I have learned that both dishes and people have a remarkable tendency to re-dirty themselves. And you have no idea how few permanent victories I really see. Which is why idealists sometimes turn into pessimists….and why youthful, bleeding-heart liberals retire (if they’re not careful) as 65-year-old cynics.
Which can happen….ever so easily….if your focus is solely on the work. If, however, you occasionally throw off your apron, lay down your toolbox, and come out from behind your plow (your desk, or even your pulpit) to sit at the feet of him whose work it is you do….cynicism, like fat, tends to flake from your frame. And you’ll arise leaner and lovelier than you were before you assumed that Mary-like posture. So much leaner and lovelier that you might even volunteer to get up before the crack of dawn, put on the coffee, and make biscuits from scratch for Jesus…. and whoever else happens to come along.
Notes: To make sure I wasn’t on the wrong track in my interpretation of this narrative, I consulted the work of Lukan scholar Joseph Fitzmyer (the Anchor Bible Commentary on Luke) who writes: “To read this episode as a commendation of contemplative life over against active life is to allegorize it beyond recognition and to introduce a distinction that was born only of later preoccupations. The episode is addressed to the Christian who is expected to be contemplative in action.”
As concerns the relationship between the timing of Jesus’ visit and the gentle rebuke of Martha, I have taken instruction from Thomas Cahill (in the book, Desire of the Everlasting Hills: The World Before and After Jesus) who writes: “Rather, we should read this anecdote in the context of Jesus’ understanding that his time is short and that his entire life is lived against the horizon of apocalypse. Mary is one of the wedding guests who rejoice while the bridegroom is yet among them, refusing to deprive themselves of the joy of his presence for the sake of some lesser goal. Whatever Martha is huffing and puffing about can be put off till Jesus moves on.”
For more information about “prayer and temperament” with reference to the Myers-Briggs Typology Indicator, see a book entitled Prayer and Temperament: Different Prayer Forms for Different Personality Types by Chester Michael and Marie Norrisey.
