Pentecost 6, 2025
Genesis 18:1-10a
Psalm 15
Colossians 1:15-28
Luke 10:38-42
In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Amen.
So a long time ago, when I was in seminary, I agreed to co-lead a Bible study with a pastor friend at a Lutheran camp on Lake Erie. One afternoon, we talked about this gospel reading we just heard, with Mary and Martha and their different ways of behaving around Jesus. This pastor friend and I disagree on just about everything, and this story was no exception. He focused on Mary, sitting at Jesus’ feet, encouraging people to take solitary walks in the woods around camp. I’m a city guy, and that does not appeal to me in the slightest. So I spent my time defending Martha, because—to misquote Milton—they also serve who stand in the kitchen washing dishes.
Okay. Full disclosure . . . I have always hated this story. And the reason I hate this story is because of how people misuse this story as a justification for a certain way of looking at Christianity. I’ve been ordained for almost fifteen years, and I've rarely had the chance to preach on this text—I guess because I was usually on tour in the summer—so, I’ve got a lot of pent up angst here, and I apologize in advance.
First things first. One of the problems with keeping things straight in the New Testament is that they apparently didn’t have a lot of names to go around. Lots of people are named either Mary or John, and we’ve got to sort out who we’re talking about when one of those names comes up. The Mary in today’s story is not the mother of Jesus, and she is not Mary Magdalene. This Mary is the sister of Martha and Lazarus, and is usually called “Mary of Bethany.” So this scene we just heard takes place in the house where Mary, Martha, and Lazarus their brother all live. Okay.
So, at some point, you’ve probably heard someone say something like, “I’m spiritual, but I’m not religious.” You’ve heard that, right? I’m spiritual, but I’m not religious? I have to tell you straight up, that attitude is about as far away from my own view as you can get. In seminary, I dreaded having to take a class called Ascetical Theology, which was all about the mystics who wrote mystical things that often seemed like descriptions of acid trips to me. It just wasn’t my thing. (I used to love quoting a professor who once said in class that the word Mysticism starts in mist, centers on the I, and ends in schism.) In fact, when I was in seminary, I created a Facebook group called, “I’m religious, but I’m not spiritual.” Which was only half joking.
But for those who are spiritual but not religious, God is often found in nature, or in silent meditation and quiet reflection. God is found in listening, not doing. Which is why today’s gospel reading is their go-to text. Martha races around the kitchen, cooking food or whatever, while Mary sits silently at the feet of Jesus. And then Jesus says, “Mary has chosen the better part.” And that’s why this text is perfect for someone who wants to be spiritual but not religious. It’s their prooftext, see? In my silent meditation, I am choosing the better way. Jesus even said so!
But the obvious downside of the spiritual but not religious people grabbing onto this text is that it denigrates those who don’t find themselves getting closer to God on a silent retreat in the woods. If sitting silently at the feet of Jesus is truly the better way, then working hard in the kitchen to feed people is—by default—not the better way. And I have to say, I disagree. A lot! Because for some people—in fact for many people—doing God’s work in the world is what brings them closer to God.
This is why people do things like serve on the Altar guild and plant flowers outside the church, participate in Impact Massillon and donate school supplies for children, serve on Vestry and sing in the choir, read lessons and carry crosses, and even write out checks to put in the offering plate on Sunday. Serving God is an action, by definition. And, my claim to be religious but not spiritual is honestly true for me, on some level. Because I personally find connection to God in the predictable ancient rituals of our worship together, as opposed to sitting silently staring at a candle.
Back to Mary and Martha though. Martha is racing around the house, occupied by many tasks, while Mary sits listening to Jesus. Martha complains to Jesus that Mary isn’t helping, and Jesus says, “Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her.” The implication is, we should all just sit quietly at the feet of Jesus, right? Let someone else do all the work. And it doesn’t take long before there is no food to eat, and no clean dishes to eat off. There’s dog hair everywhere, the utilities are all disconnected, and the lawn needs mowing. Meanwhile, we’re all sitting at the feet of Jesus like a bunch of hippies, having chosen “the better part.” (I told you, I’ve got a lot of pent-up angst about this text.)
Busy Martha might not have chosen “the better part,” but she wasn’t doing nothing. When you think about it, she was making it possible for her sister to sit at the feet of Jesus. And not only that, you notice, she’s the only one talking to Jesus. She is having a conversation with the son of God, while Mary is just sitting at his feet. She is in the room with Jesus, experiencing his presence, bringing her complaints and problems to him. Which I think is what we call prayer, isn’t it?
Okay, so we can see, it doesn’t work for everyone to sit silently at the feet of Jesus, no matter what the mystics might tell you. Someone has to be distracted by their many tasks. Someone has to feed the people and keep the entropy of the world at bay. But it does leave the question, what does Jesus mean when he says that Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her? Well, since I’m the guy who’s supposed to answer my own questions, I’ll tell you what I think.
Mary is doing her thing, sitting at the feet of Jesus. And Martha is doing her thing, being distracted by her many tasks. They are both serving Jesus in their own way. So far so good. But then, Martha gets resentful of the way Mary is serving Jesus. She looks around, stops serving Jesus, and starts complaining about the way someone else is serving Jesus. Martha is essentially saying, “Jesus, make everyone else serve you the way I serve you. You know, the right way.”
When Jesus tells Martha that Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her, I think he means that she is living out her faith in her own way, without worrying about how other people live out their faith. That’s the better way. That’s the better part. Jesus is not criticizing Martha for being busy; he is telling her to stop complaining about how other people live out their faith. Mary has chosen the better way because her eyes are on Jesus, not on what everyone else is doing. Keeping her eyes on Jesus. That’s the better way. That’s the better part.
No matter how you choose to serve God, no matter how you choose to worship God, no matter where you find God, focus on that. How other people connect to Jesus is none of our business. Because when it comes down to it, we are all spiritual, we are all religious, and we are all beloved of God.
Amen.