The Church of the Ascension
July 22, 2007
Proper 11

In the name of God: the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.  AMEN.

This story about Mary and Martha got me into big trouble when I was about twelve years old.  The parsonage, as it was called, of the First Baptist Church was right across the street from my family’s home.  It was only natural, then, that I always was friends with the PK’s – the Preacher’s Kids.  It was an odd coupling actually.  PK’s, I now know even more first hand, are always predictably “bad;” I, on the other hand was hopelessly good, never wanting to get into trouble about anything.

At the time of this event, the PK of reference, Martie, was unusually outrageous and had led me into any number of unfortunate and for me uncharacteristic capers.  Anyway, we were involved in some sort of church pageant that included a reenactment of the Martha/Mary story.  It was narrated by our leader, the “church lady.”  Let your minds run with that image.  She had an unusual and unpleasant warble in her voice that was mildly funny to even normal people and was HYSTERICAL to us.  As the rehearsals progressed, each time she would warble, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things,” on cue Martie would mimic her voice and her expressions, giving rise to our becoming uncontrollably tickled.

On the night of the pageant, our risibility was heightened not diminished as it should have been by an audience.  What should have been a nice tableau from scripture became a comedy routine filled with snorts and bursts of barely concealed laughter – none of which amused the pastor or my parents.  They were not proud of us.

So….I have some baggage – as we say in the trade – about Martha and Mary of Bethany.  Even as I have studied them in adulthood, I have found them capable of getting of my nerves.  Mary – so pious and attentive that you just want to smack her and Martha a competent, focused robot equally unattractive.  And…yet…we know these women: the scene is utterly familiar to us, lived out in many families.  Mary implores her sister, “Martha, let’s just use the paper plates and napkins this one time.”  Martha, of course, is out back on the big stone ironing the daylights out of the cloth ones and dragging out the good china.

Though it is true that Jesus, at least according to Luke, clearly sided with Mary, my identification actually rests more with Martha.  I don’t like it when someone says to me, “just relax,” which in essence is what Jesus said to Martha: “Come, come Martha, don’t be so uptight; be easy, relax, smell the roses.”  In my version of Luke, Martha can be heard muttering, “there won’t be any blooming roses if someone doesn’t take the time to water them” and “so who is going to prepare dinner while we are smelling roses, thank you very much!”

It is always interesting to speculate why some stories got remembered and recorded by Jesus’ chroniclers and some didn’t.  Even in the first century people, it seems, struggled with the tension between active and passive lifestyles, between Type A and Type B kinds of people.   That kind of personality predisposition certainly has some impact upon the way we “live” our spirituality.  The truth is I could no more be a monk than a man in the moon.  When I am away on retreat, particularly of the silent variety, though I always know where my car keys are, I manage to get myself after a period of time into the rhythm of the silence and prayer.  However, for me it always has a specific and limited duration, the assurance of which is very important to me.   Were I to go beyond that magic ending date, who knows what kind of acting out I would engage?  It wouldn’t be pretty.  It is just more difficult for me to sit and pray.

But that is not the whole story of who I am – any more than your position on the active/passive line is the whole story of who each of you is.  I think that may be the point of the story.  Jesus is all about balance, about the importance of spiritually integrating both sides of our personalities, the quiet and the active.  In our society what becomes problematic is that the dominant cultural message is that active is better than passive, certainly more productive, more lucrative, more rewarded.  And, therefore, people get out of balance.  When out of balance, priorities get soiled and confused.  Suddenly a clean house becomes more important than a conversation with a tired spouse.  Or showing up at every business social event is an absolute must even at the expense of a piano recital.  Or a few calls to the office while on vacation won’t really violate the desperately needed Sabbath time.

This week in one of her daily devotions derived from this story of Mary and Martha, Barbara Crafton made some keen observations about the story’s relevance to our prayer lives.  If asked, most of us would say, “Oh, my prayer life needs some work; I don’t pray as much or as often as I should.”  I have said the same thing many times.  As a retreat leader, often who talks about prayer, Barbara claims that “prayer is not yet another job that we must add to our pile of tasks, that it isn't on top of anything, not evidence of goodness” but a gift that “is underneath everything. Prayer is the place in which we put your life.”  And then the most extraordinary thing she claims is that all we have to do to really have a life of prayer is to “ask God for the gift of it.”

I believe that.  Which is really another way of saying that when we seek God, I believe with all my heart that we will find God.  That does not mean that we will get all that we pray for; that does not mean that the deepest desires we utter in prayer will come to be ours.  But it does mean that if we ask God for the gift of being turned consciously toward God, it is a gift that will be ours.  We may have to ask frequently – not to pester God into hearing us but to keep ourselves turned in that direction.  It is not a magic fix to the active/passive dichotomy, but resting our thoughts upon the presence of God in our lives and in the world around us will do more for us than we can even imagine.  It won’t take away our fatigue or protect us from all that needs to be done; it won’t even hide the ugliness of life from us.  In fact, it may open our eyes even more clearly to it, but its gift will be that through it all God is there.  In the end, that is all that matters.

“Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing” said Jesus.  Still I hear the words, “Buddy, Buddy, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing.”  Turn my heart toward you, O God, so that in every moment, whether actively rushing about or quietly sitting in reflection, I may know that you are the sustaining, underlying presence in my life every moment of every day.

In the name of God: AMEN.