DISCIPLESHIP AND DISTRACTIONS

 Sermon preached by the Rev. Michael Anderson Bullock

[Genesis 18:1-10a; Colossians 1:15-28; Luke 10:38-42]

This sermon is about discipleship (following Jesus) and distractions.

We’ve just gone through our first taste of what is referred to as the “dog days of summer”.  Clearly, August lies ahead, and there is more to come; but thank God for the meteorological mercy of the last two days!  Amplifying this shot of mid-summer weather is the daily news, the content of which can be as enervating and disturbing as the muggy weather.

Our call to faithfulness does require that we are aware and engaged with the events of the world, but the news about a polarized nation and a chaotic world can easily make us feel as if we are in the middle of a life-sucking desert.  Personally, I know that I fight the survival instinct to “duck and cover”, but the temptation to disengage from the headlines fails to reduce the lingering sense of anxiety.  And it is not good for one’s soul to awaken to a new day with apprehension gnawing at the stomach.  So, clearly all of this opens us up to distractions: Anything to divert our attention from life’s demanding realities and its attendant experiences of confusion, chaos, and our sense of powerlessness.

Distractions.  On the one hand, there are distractions that grab our attention in such a manner as to readjust our perspective to see with more focus what is around us – and inside us.  For instance, the chirping and laughter of a child in church initially may come across as a distracting interruption, but as the late Henri Nouwen used to teach us, interruptions just may be the only way God can get through to us in our otherwise over-stuffed routines and preoccupied expectations.  In this vein, it turns out that such distractions really are opportunities to refocus and recognize the “forest for the trees”; or as I mentioned a moment ago these distractions may be God’s frantic attempt to whistle us to come home.  [whistle!]

Yet, in circumstances where we are bombarded by the tsunami of actions and information (like presidential executive orders and 900-page pieces of legislation that must be digested and affirmed within a week) – under these circumstances it is hard to keep our eyes on the prize.  Distractions like these derail us from keeping the main thing the main thing.

A similar situation and scene occurs in today’s gospel lesson, where distraction overwhelms awareness and obscures the main thing being the main thing.

The gospel scene and its accompanying storyline are familiar to many of us.  Jesus visits the household of three supporters of his mission and ministry.  They live in the village of Bethany, which is a short, two-mile trip, southeast of Jerusalem.  Three siblings (Martha, Mary, and their brother Lazarus) live together in the house Jesus visits.  These three and their Bethany home will gain added importance later in Jesus’ climactic travels to Jerusalem, but at this point in the story, Luke only describes what appears to be Jesus’ first visit to what will soon become his “safe house”.

In terms of today’s gospel content, what is centrally important to recognize is that Martha is the main character.  It is, after all, Martha’s house, a social-economic reality that we in our liberated times easily overlook.  Like Sarah in our Genesis reading, women who were heads of households (like Martha) held significant authority and responsibility concerning “home and hearth”.  That Martha was cooking the meal of their honored guest was an indication of her household position.

Nonetheless, a very human tension emerges in this story.  An apparent sibling rivalry issue combusts between Martha and Mary.  With her pots boiling and her pans sizzling, Martha became irked over Mary’s lack of assistance and (to the point) complained to Jesus for relief.  As the eldest of four boys – no girls – I resonate with Martha, as I had singular responsibilities that my younger siblings did not and could not have.  That they were much too young to cut the lawn (for instance) made no difference to my self-righteous and wounded sense of the injustice perpetrated upon my family’s first born – that would be me!  So, I get Martha who soon reveals. an element of her character that (if she had a good press secretary) would have been left out of the narrative.  Martha attempted to triangulate Jesus into shaming Mary to lend a hand.

Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself?

I suspect that Jesus thought about his options at this moment.  On the one hand, he could insure that the meal would be served on time and accede to Martha’s request, making Mary slink with guilt into the kitchen.  On the other hand, Jesus could have reached into his pastoral bag of tricks to pull out the purple heart medal he carried and pin it on Martha’ chef’s jacket, thus honoring her sacrificial wounds.  Of course, Jesus did neither thing, thus setting into motion the interpretive rub of this entire story.  It comes from Luke’s recording Jesus’ response to Martha’s seeming whining:

Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things: there is need of only one thing.  Mary has chosen the part.1

Ouch!  Did Jesus just “burn” Martha?

What does this interaction mean?  What do Jesus’ words to Martha mean in terms of what is entailed in following Jesus, in being one of his disciples?  These questions initiated 2000 years of debate, not all of it very pretty or helpful.

The most well-known interpretation comes with the impressive imprimatur of many of the most prominent and ancient theological figures in Christian history.  Their particular interpretation is that Martha and Mary personify the two aspects of faith.  Martha represents the “active” element of faith (the outward doing part of faith), and Mary represents the “contemplative” (the reflective side) of faith.  In this vein, Jesus’ siding with Mary’s choice and style apparently overshadows Martha and her activity.

But which part of faith does Jesus point to?  And that question is the problem because following Jesus, learning steadily and persistently how to be more and more Christ-like is not a binary issue or process.

Yes, there most certainly are faithful folks whose calling emphasizes contemplation that seeks to develop mindfulness about God that we see in Jesus.  Yet, this does not mean that working with one’s hands to demonstrate faith’s commitment is beneath the spiritually mature.  Nor (on the other hand) is being a “worker bee” an excuse for spiritual ignorance or a lack of knowing the reason one follows Jesus in the first place.

What Jesus said to Martha about Mary’s behavior is not an “either/or” matter.  It is a “both/and” reminder.  In this vein, I find it compelling that one of the great voices in the history of the church’s self-understanding and mission, the fourth century theologian, St. Augustin – one who did promulgate the notion that the “contemplative” is superior to the “active” -- also taught what I find to be the key interpretation.  Augustin wrote, “Martha sought to feed Jesus.  Mary sought to be fed by Jesus.”

My understanding of Jesus’ statement to Martha and what it says to us in a “both/and” manner is expressed in a motto I often use with you in my teachings: namely, “You can’t give away what you don’t have.”  For Martha to feed Jesus, she would also have needed to have been fed by Jesus.  And the same holds fast for us, as well.

A big, unspoken part of this story rests with Mary and her posture of sitting at Jesus’ feet to listen to his teachings, as Augustin puts it: to be fed by Jesus.  In that culture, this was a posture for a male student, and Mary breaks that boundary without reproach – certainly from Jesus.  It is Luke’s way of letting us know that followers of Jesus are not limited to the social and religious boundaries we often place upon them.  In the case of Martha and Mary, following Jesus is not a matter of gender but of the human need to respond to “Emmanuel: God with us.”  As with Martha’s example, Jesus does need to be fed, even as his followers, his disciples first need to receive the Lord’s feeding.  As I say, “you can’t give away what you don’t have”.  And I think the central-yet-simple issue is being fed by Jesus for the purpose of feeding others in his name.

Along these lines, I think of two encounters Jesus has with the issue of feeding him in the manner that Martha intended to do.  The first to come to mind is the post-resurrection meeting between the risen Jesus and Peter.  As contained in John’s gospel [21:1517], Jesus takes Peter aside and asks Peter three times if he loves him.  Three times (the same number of times that Peter denied Jesus at the Lord’s time of trial) Jesus asks this question: “Peter, do you love me?”  And three times Peter answers and atones for his betrayal by saying, “Yes, Lord, you know I love you,” to which Jesus replies in absolution: “Feed my sheep.”

It is in receiving Jesus’ mercy and forgiveness that Peter is fed by the Lord (Mary’s example.   In turn, Jesus directs Peter to feed others as Jesus fed him (Martha’s example).  “You can’t give away what you don’t have.”  First things first.

The second encounter that Martha’s example points to was recently re-emphasized by our Williamsburg neighbor and the husband of our Vestry member, Fran Kidder.  In an op-ed piece in the New York Times last week (and reproduced in yesterday’s edition), Tracey Kidder wrote a stirring piece that described the new face of hunger in America, and he used our own Easthampton and our own Easthampton Community Center as the riveting example.

Citing Matthew, chapter 25 and Jesus’ teaching about what life is like on God’s terms, Tracey daringly quotes Jesus saying, I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty, and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me.

And to the astonishment of his followers, the people all ask: Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you drink?  And welcome you, or naked and clothed you?  And when did we see you sick or in prison and visit you? [25:37-39]

Jesus’ answer and Kidder’s article’s point about hunger among us was: Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these, you did it to me. [25:40]

“You can’t give away what you don’t have”, but as we say in response to our sacramental feeding, Alleluia! Christ our Passover is sacrificed for us.  Therefore, let us keep the feast. Alleluia!2

Kidder (among others who take scripture seriously) points to a contemporary setting that needs Martha and Mary’s examples.  Mike Johnson, the Speaker of the House of Representatives, proclaimed the source of his leadership standards as being biblically based.  The Speaker said, “Go pick up a Bible off your shelf and read it. That’s my worldview.”  As Kidder said in his article, the Speaker must have missed this part of the gospel’s worldview: Truly, I saw to you, as you did it to one of the least of these, you did it to me.

Feed my sheep.

Sanctify us also that we may faithfully receive this holy Sacrament, and serve you in unity, constancy, and peace; and at the last day bring us with all your saints into the joy of your eternal kingdom.3

Discipleship and distractions.  Keeping the main thing the main thing.  Amen.

---

1.  Luke 10:42

2.  Book of Common Prayer. The Holy Eucharist: Fraction Anthem, p. 364

3.  BCP. Holy Communion: Prayer of Consecration, p.362