Not About the Dishes - Luke 10:38-42

There is a memory that stands out to me from the early days of being a new parent. I was in the apartment in Berkeley, holding our first-born baby. I remember being full of joy. And also exhausted and worried, right on schedule as a new mother. Feeding the baby and finding ways to get him to sleep was a full-time job. The only thing that worked a week in was holding him while bouncing on a yoga ball and running the hairdryer for white noise. I distinctly remember holding the baby with the hair drying going and looking over at a pile of dishes in the kitchen sink that I couldn’t get done, while still feeling like I had to get the dishes done. Before the baby, those dishes would already be put away. The baby was crying, and so was I. On the surface, I was crying over dishes. But it wasn’t really about the dishes. It was about the joyful yet overwhelming change that came with the new identity of parenthood. I was having a full-blown Martha moment.

On the surface, the story of Martha being upset with her sister Mary seems to be about chores and dishes, but it’s not really about the dishes. It’s about their new identity in Christ and all of the joyful but overwhelming change that comes with that. In order to see that interpretation, I invite you to forget everything you think you know about this scene in Luke’s gospel.

First, forget that Jesus has come to Mary and Martha’s home in Bethany. Usually Bethany is mentioned with the sisters’ names, but not here. They are simply in a certain village, and Martha welcomes Jesus into the home. Not her home, at least not in the ancient Greek. It could be anyone’s house. Maybe it’s a house where disciples are gathered.

Next, take the familiar image of Mary sitting at Jesus’ feet, while Martha does all the work involved in hosting Jesus - presumably preparing a meal. Martha says, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself?” The word for Martha’s work is diakonia. While that word can denote household tasks like cooking and washing dishes, its more immediate sense in the New Testament is service in ministry. Diakonia is fitting for the work of Jesus’ disciples. It’s the same word from which we get our word deacon. Which means that it’s entirely possible, and maybe even more likely, that Martha is distracted and overworked not by the dishes, but by the demands of ministry.

Also, forget what you know about Mary being the only one at Jesus’ feet in the posture of a disciple. The original text says that Martha has a sister, who has also sat at Jesus’ feet, in the imperfect tense, meaning over time, in the past. Whatever Mary is doing today, Martha has also done in an ongoing way. They have both sat at Jesus’ feet, learning from him and being formed as disciples.

And in our last move to disrupt the standard interpretation of the sisters arguing over chores, forget what you know about Martha’s complaint. “Lord, tell her to help me.” Martha’s issue isn’t the housework. There is evidence that Mary of Bethany is kind of a big deal, that she has a following as an evangelist. Her followers turn up over in the gospel of John and witness the raising of her brother Lazarus. One scholar (Mary Hanson) has suggested that Martha’s complaint might actually be that Mary has deserted Martha with some regularity to pursue her own ministry, and that the distance between the sisters is more than the few steps between the kitchen and the living room. Martha’s language indicates a strong distress. We don’t know what’s behind it, but it’s safe to assume that like any adult sisters, their relationship is complex. With their previous relationship coming up against their new roles in Christ, Mary and Martha are navigating through the uncharted territory of being sisters in a ministry that has turned their world upside down.

So what, then, do we make of Jesus’ teaching to Martha, that Mary has chosen the better part? The traditional readings of this are generally good. Some people see this as an affirmation of the life of prayer and contemplation. It comes on the heals of the Good Samaritan story about what we are supposed to do as followers of Jesus. Perhaps this helps balance that teaching, that we need to refill our spiritual wells from time to time. Others see the sisters as two sides of a spiritual coin - the active and the contemplative. They are both important, though the contemplative side would seem to have a slight edge in this story.

But there is another possibility, especially if we understand Mary and Martha’s struggle in light of their new lives in ministry. Consider the fact that once they found Jesus, everything changed. They are now evangelists. Jesus has opened up a whole new life for them - one of new roles and expectations and dreams. This requires letting go of old, familiar ways of thinking, about everything from family rules and expectations to their hopes for the future. Jesus has a habit of telling people to let go of old ways of thinking - about things like money, family, security, kingdoms, and righteousness. Or maybe more importantly to let go of the spiritual pitfalls of those things - things like greed, disconnection, insecurity, idolatry and self-righteousness. Jesus has asked Martha to let go of her complaint against her sister. She’s holding onto an older story, an earlier identity, and it’s causing her distress. Letting go of that will bring healing, which will be the better part.

I’ve had a few Martha moments in my life, like that story of holding a new baby and crying over dishes I couldn’t get done as I would have in the past. Maybe you’ve had Martha moments, too, as you have grown into who you are called to be. New identities always bring change, and sometimes it’s a bumpy transition. Jesus has called us into a new identity, a new creation, in him. As we answer that call, there are older ways of thinking and acting to let go of. Love must become bigger than selfishness, compassion bigger than anger, peace bigger than worry, hope bigger than despair. And we’re working on it. Like Martha, we are works in progress in Christ, and we are headed toward the better part.