The One Thing That Is Required

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

Martha was distracted by her many tasks, so she came to Jesus and asked him: Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself?

I can understand how Martha was frazzled and overwhelmed by all the responsibilities of taking care of her many guests. I can understand why Martha was frustrated that her younger sister Mary wasn’t shouldering her share of the burden of hosting Jesus and his entourage in their home.

And, to be honest, it isn’t really a surprise to me that Martha doesn’t whisper in Mary’s ear instead of embarrassing Mary by complaining out loud, in front of Jesus and all the guests. We all know that if you have an issue with someone, it’s usually much better to take it up with them directly than to bring it to a third party. Shaming somebody publicly is rarely the best way to win friends and influence people. But when we’re stressed out and feeling overwhelmed, we’re often not at our best – and so it would be understandable for Martha to just lash out in frustration at Mary for abandoning her at a moment of great pressure.

Except that, if you read the text closely, Martha’s complaint is not about Mary. Martha’s complaint is about Jesus.

“Martha came to Jesus and asked him, ‘Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself?’” Lord, don’t you care that all of this work and responsibility has been dumped on me? Lord, don’t you care about me?

It would be understandable for Martha to be frustrated with her sister Mary, and we often assume that’s what’s bothering Martha in this familiar story. But actually, Martha’s beef is with Jesus. Lord, don’t you care about what’s happening to me?

It’s the same thing that the men disciples of Jesus say when they’re in the boat with Jesus crossing the lake. You remember the story, a big storm comes up, the boat is being tossed around by the wind and the waves, and Jesus is sound asleep. And the disciples wake Jesus up and say to him, “Lord, don’t you care that we are about to drown?” (Mk 4:38). Lord, don’t you care about us? Lord, don’t you care about me?

Have you ever felt that way? You have a lot of responsibility, taking care of children, taking care of family, people depending on you at your job. And you’re happy to do it. You know it’s your calling is in life, it’s your way of being of service to others and to God. But sometimes, it gets to be a little too much to handle. It would be nice if someone noticed, if someone would help out and share a little bit of the burden. Doesn’t anyone care about me?

Or maybe the circumstances of your life just have you at the end of your rope. You have a lot to deal with – perhaps physical illness, perhaps some worry that you have that other people don’t really know about. And you often feel alone – doesn’t anybody see that I need help? Doesn’t anyone care about me?

Or perhaps everyone’s attention is rightly focused on someone else who is in need. Someone else in the family who is ill, someone who is going through a crisis, someone else who is getting attention that they deserve. You don’t begrudge them the attention – they clearly need it – yet sometimes that leaves you feeling like there’s no attention left over for you and your needs. Doesn’t anyone care about me?

Lord, don’t you care that I’ve been stuck with all this work by myself? Lord, don’t you care about me? Martha’s question to Jesus is a common question, most of us ask it, at least now and then. And the response of Jesus to Martha – like his response when his disciples asked the same question on the boat during the storm – at first doesn’t sound particularly empathetic. He doesn’t say, Oh, poor Martha, of course you know I care about you! Instead, Jesus shows his care for Martha – as he showed his care for the disciples on the boat – by inviting her to a deeper faith.

I know a lot of sermons have been preached that say Jesus prefers Mary to Martha, that Martha is attached to the things of this world but Mary is attached to better things, higher things, the things of God. But Martha is doing exactly what she’s supposed to be doing. Martha is taking care of people – Martha is taking care of her guests, Martha is practicing hospitality. In the text of Luke’s gospel, the story of Martha and Mary immediately follows last Sunday’s gospel of the Good Samaritan – who took care of a neighbor in need. Go and do likewise, Jesus said. And isn’t that exactly what Mary is doing?

In the first reading today, Abraham offers hospitality to three mysterious visitors. Abraham goes running to greet the visitors, then runs to the kitchen to get Sarah started on baking bread, and goes “in haste” to the servants to get the meat going. Given that Abraham, according to the text, is 99 years old, all of that running is actually pretty impressive. Most of us stop doing a lot of running well before age 99. So Martha is in good company, running around taking care of her guests – yes, she is busy with many things but this is how you show hospitality to guests, how you show them respect, how you show them love.

It's interesting that our first reading begins by saying that it was “the Lord who appeared to Abraham” in this story. But then all we hear about are the three travelers. Abraham offers them hospitality, and the visitors accept it. Abraham waits on them during their meal, and it’s only after the meal that the three visitors ask Sarah to come out of the kitchen and join them. And then one of the visitors repeats directly to Sarah the promise of a child that God had previously only made to Abraham. This is the first indication that these are not random travelers, but that they are – what? Messengers of God? Angels? The three persons of the Trinity? We don’t know, but we do know that in the hospitality of Abraham and Sarah God is somehow present, and the promise of God to Abraham and Sarah becomes real and concrete and immediate.

Martha welcomes the Lord Jesus into her home, and her acts of hospitality are the actions of a daughter of Abraham.  She does exactly what Abraham would have done – and yet she is not comforted by the Lord’s promise, she is distracted, frustrated, worried, she feels abandoned and alone. Is the Lord’s promise to Sarah, is that promise also for me, Martha wants to know. Martha’s sister Mary seems confident that the promise is for her, but Martha isn’t sure. Lord, don’t you care about me?

In the letter to the Hebrews it’s written, “Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it” (Heb. 13:2). Showing hospitality to strangers is a sacred duty, as both Abraham and Martha knew. The promise is that, when we welcome the visitor into our midst, when we attend to those in need, we will come to perceive the presence of God. Abraham and Sarah discovered this presence and promise of God. Martha needed to be reminded of it, as we also so often do.

You are worried and distracted by many things, Jesus said to Martha. But only one thing is required. To pay attention to the person who is before you. And in that interpersonal relationship you will discover that the Lord, indeed, cares for you. That the Lord’s promise is indeed for you. That the Lord is indeed present to you, even and especially in the least and littlest who come your way.