Becoming Martha

In today’s gospel I think poor Martha is sometimes made to be the foil of the story. We easily remember the ending. Mary has chosen “the better part” and poor Martha is left worried and anxious about many things. In our minds, Mary becomes the model disciple while Martha becomes the woman who just doesn’t quite get it. I think Martha needs to be reconsidered.

“A woman whose name was Martha welcomed him.” (Lk 10:38). Jesus arrives, and Martha opens the door inviting Him in. Before Mary can sit at the feet of Jesus, someone has to welcome Jesus into the house. And there is something wonderfully faithful about that.

Luke is very intentional about the order of things (cf. Luke 1:3). Immediately before today’s gospel Jesus told the parable of the Good Samaritan. The Samaritan sees the wounded man, stops, cares for him, takes him to an inn and pays for his care. Jesus concludes the parable with the admonition: “Go and do likewise.” (Lk 10:37).  Turn the page and we find Martha “doing.” Lots of people think today’s gospel is somehow telling us that service is somehow inferior to prayer. He has just told us to serve, so something else must be going on.

The text tells us that Martha was “burdened with much serving.” The word in Greek has the sense of being pulled away, distracted. And therein likely lies the problem. She has become so busy serving Jesus that she is being pulled away from Jesus.

That’s a danger religious people understand very well. We can spend enormous amounts of time doing things for God: a ministry in the parish, teaching faith formation, festival volunteering – the list is endless. And add to that all the enormous amount of time doing things for your family. We priests are not immune from such busyness. We can spend the whole day working for Jesus but very little time with Jesus. It is easy to let all these good things distract us from the reason we are doing them.

Eventually Martha reaches the breaking point. She comes to Jesus and says: “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me by myself to do the serving? Tell her to help me.” (Lk 10:40) You have to love Martha’s honesty. She doesn’t break out in a prayer or calculate her words. She tells Jesus exactly what she thinks: Mary is the problem. But then Jesus becomes part of the problem: “Lord, do you not care?”

That question may be more familiar to us than we would like to admit. I think everyone of us can remember a time when we felt overwhelmed and we wondered if God cares. Jesus did not admonish Jesus for asking, nor does he admonish us. He simply says: “Martha, Martha…” He sees what all that doing has done to her: “You are anxious and worried about many things.”

Martha wanted Jesus to change Mary, but Jesus’ response is akin to saying: “Before we talk about her, let’s talk about what is happening inside you.” And notice that Jesus doesn’t tell Martha to stop serving. He calls her back to the center: “There is need of only one thing.” What is that “one thing”? Is it to imitate Mary, in a way become Mary? 

Let us pause for a moment and consider the next time we encounter Mary – when her brother Lazarus dies. “When Martha heard that Jesus was coming, she went to meet him; but Mary sat at home.” (Jn 11:20) Martha gets up and goes to Jesus. She’s still Martha: active and direct and still unafraid to tell Jesus exactly what she thinks: “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died.” But something is different. During their conversation, Martha says: “I have come to believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one who is coming into the world.” (Jn 11:27) That is one of the great professions of faith in John’s Gospel.

The woman we remember for being distracted by many things has come to recognize the one thing necessary. Or better, the one Person necessary. Martha didn’t need to become Mary. Martha needed to become a deeper Martha.

And perhaps that is what Jesus wants for us. He isn’t necessarily asking us to abandon our responsibilities. Meals still need to be prepared, children cared for, work to be completed, people who need our help, and a parish that still needs volunteers. The Good Samaritan still has to stop beside the road and Jesus forever says, “Go and do likewise.”

Let us do what is ours to do, the good things God has given us to do. But don’t become so busy doing things for Jesus that we lose sight of Jesus.

Martha opened the door and welcomed him into her house. Somewhere along the way, she became distracted by everything that needed to be done. And Jesus gently called her back. Perhaps today he is doing the same for us. Amid all the things that seem so urgent, all the things demanding our attention, all the things we think absolutely must get done, we need to hear the echo: there is need of only one thing.”

Don’t lose sight of the One you welcomed into the house in the first place.


Image credit: “Christ at the home of Martha and Mary” | Charles de La Fosse | Private collection in a castle in Lorraine (France); Galerie Didier Chéreau, Paris | PD-US

Matthew’s Version

This coming Sunday is the 28th Sunday of Ordinary Time. Among the various sources of Christian tradition, this parable of the wedding banquet has been preserved in three distinct versions. The simplest rendering of the parable can be found in the non-canonical Gospel of Thomas. In this version, the parable consists of a series of refusals to a dinner. Each of the guests who begged off did so for reasons of business or commerce. Consequently the host sent servants into the streets to bring back whomever they could find. Luke’s version of the parable (Luke 14:16-24), also preserves the reversal motif and bears evidence of the evangelist’s conviction that the poor, outcasts, those otherwise marginalized from society will find a welcome in the kingdom.

However, when Matthew’s rendering of this parable is compared to these other sources, there are several obvious differences. The main portion (vv. 1-10) of the parable is offered as an allegorical presentation of salvation history. The host has become a king (God) who was preparing a wedding banquet (symbol of kingdom) for his son (Jesus). The two groups of servants were probably representative of the Hebrew prophets and the Christian apostles, whereas the invited guests who repeatedly refused the king’s invitation and brutalized the servants were intended to portray Israel. People from the byroads represented the gentiles to whom the gospel was also to be extended.

In verse seven, the parable takes a strange twist; the city of the guests is destroyed. Starting a war while the meal is prepared and on the table strains even the wide range of flexibility allowed to parables. Add to that the mention of the burning of the murderers’ city – especially in the light of the Lucan tradition of the story and we begin to suspect something added from Matthew’s community – or something Luke thought to omit  Most scholars believe that the Matthean community and evangelist were referencing the destruction of Jerusalem which occurred in 70 C.E. at the hands of Titus and the Roman army. Matthew projected this event back into this parable of Jesus. By so doing he was simply updating the history of salvation as it had unfolded by the time his gospel reached its final form in the mid-80s C.E.

Matthew makes this story the climax of the progression of this three-parable set: The first of the triad, the parable of the two sons (21:28–32), focuses on the (more than a) prophet John; the second, the parable of the lord’s vineyard given to others (21:33–46), pictures the whole prophetic line climaxing in Jesus, the Son who is killed. This third parable is understood from Matthew’s own post-Easter perspective, facing the parousia and final judgment. This final parable thus follows the perspective in picturing the history of salvation from the original calling of Israel to the last judgment, and places Jesus and the church in the succession of Israel’s prophets, persecuted and rejected by Israel.

The parable has the same audience as the preceding one except that now he specifically includes the Pharisees. Matthew’s insertion of “again” (palin, or “once more”) connects the parable to the preceding one as well, as do all the points we noted above. This means that the Matthean meaning cannot be derived from the parable alone, but only from the narrative structure of which it is now an integral part.


Image Credit: Parable of the Great Banquet by Brunswick Monogrammist (circa 1525) National Museum, Warsaw | Public Domain