Are You Martha or Mary?

" 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.' " [ Luke 10: 38-42].

Martha is the older sister of Mary. Martha believes that serving the Lord means to stay in continual motion, tidying up, sweeping, preparing food, setting a perfect table, waiting on Jesus and the others present. In her mind, she would be ashamed to offer anything less than Perfect Hospitality, in all of its details, to her honored guest.

Mary, on the other hand, spends her time with the Lord, sitting at His feet, taking in His every word.

The first time I read this, I thought that Martha must surely be the one to be judged as right. After all, we are commanded to Love AND to Serve! [Related posting, " Show Me Your Faith",  September 16, 2012].

So here is Mary, doing nothing, simply sitting at Jesus's feet, while her sister Martha does all the work?! And yet, Mary is the one whom Jesus praises?

I guess that I have a hidden agenda when I choose Martha over Mary. You see, I am a Martha. . . .

When I was thirteen, my mother and grandmother sat me down in the kitchen and told me that they wanted to talk to me. I knew something was up, because my grandmother rarely came in and sat down in our kitchen. She was active and busy, always to get to her home and get on with her day.

My mother and grandmother told me that they were so happy that I had made it to age thirteen, because the truth was, I had almost not been born! My mother had gone into distress at the hospital, when she was in labor with me. As the medical staff wheeled my mother into emergency surgery, all my mother heard was, "Get the baby!"

I was speechless. Here I had gone along, all of my thirteen years, assuming that my life was inevitable. I imagined what my life would have been, if my mother had died. I imagined what my mother's life would have been, if I had died. I imagined what my father's life would have been, without his wife and baby daughter.

Above all, I could not comprehend how I might have died before I had a chance to even be born. I would have had no life at all.

My grandmother went home. My mother started fixing dinner, as usual. But my life was utterly changed then, and I knew it. What, oh what, was I going to do with this life, that had almost never been?

I almost asked my mother if I could go talk to the Episcopal priest? I had so many questions: 'Did God really choose me to be born? If He was capable of making very sure that I was born, I must have a purpose. How do I know what my purpose is? How do I make my life worthy of God's call?'

I had everything I would say to the priest all worked out in my head. But I did not dare ask my mother. My parents took me to church only under the watchful eye of my grandmother. Meanwhile, outside of church, my parents were mocking Christians.

What were we, Fake Christians? I  knew that my parents would scoff, and tell me, 'Just be happy.'

In the next several days, I could not stop thinking- Yes! I mattered, because God had made sure I was born. Now what?

So, on my own, at the age of thirteen, I decided to fill every moment of every day with purposeful activity. With life being so precious, I was determined not waste a minute of it. And that is how I became a Martha. . . .

Like Martha, for years I would berate my family that they were not doing enough to help me and that I was so very tired. My husband would say, " If you are tired, sit down. You do too much." This would infuriate me.

Many years later, I lost my father, my best friend, my mother and my mother-in-law, all in a two year span. I became overwhelmed and confused. I realized that I could not keep up this pace. I needed to have that conversation with a priest, the one I had longed for so many decades ago.

I made an appointment with my current priest. I told him, ' My God is gone!!' He said to me, "God is not gone. You are too busy. Go into the chapel every day, and meditate and pray. It is never a waste of time to reflect and spend time with God."

I did that-- and God came back in an instant!

I still struggle with being a Martha. I find that I spin myself into exhaustion and confusion, trying to fill every moment of every day. I have to force myself to sit down and rest, or I get confused and anxious. Then, I am no longer good to myself or to anyone else. I am no good to God, either.

My time spent in being "Mary", simply sitting in the chapel in front of the Tabernacle, is essential to me now. I see that, in giving so much of myself to others-- something I absolutely love to do--  my cup becomes empty. My cup is not bottomless. I need to fill it up again.

I fill myself up again, by spending time in contemplation with the Lord. May you do the same!


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Finally,