In yesterday’s gospel from Luke (10:38-42), we get a short exchange between Jesus and two sisters: Martha and Mary.  Jesus is visiting them and Martha, trying to be a good host, is in the kitchen, preparing food for Jesus (and presumably his entourage).  Her younger sister, Mary, is in the living room, sitting at Jesus’s feet, chilling out and listening to him.  I assume Jesus is telling stories about the road.

I love this story because there’s a backstory there that we don’t know about.  Jesus knows these two women somehow.  They are friends.  We don’t know for sure, when they met, but we could imagine great opportunities.  Maybe it was coincidence or maybe they follow Jesus around themselves, as disciples (Mary assumes a disciple’s position at Jesus’s feet, for what its worth).  These are two interesting women.

Put the picture in your mind and imagine the living room with Jesus and Mary and a few other followers sitting there, telling stories about what has just happened, including some big miracles on Jesus’s part.  Exciting stories about ministry and what is happening are told back and forth and people are enjoying each other’s company.  And then we hear from the kitchen:

“Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself? Tell her then to help me.”

Martha calls out, looking for help.  She’s mad that her sister isn’t helping her and trying to get her good friend, Jesus to shoo her into the kitchen.  But Jesus’s response surprises everyone:

“Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her.”

Our indifference to the story is shattered as we slip into one of the roles seamlessly and without thinking.  We are no longer neutral observers, perhaps a disciple sitting on the couch uncomfortably as this exchange embarrasses the host, but we dive right into Martha, don’t we?  We are so conscious of her hard work, the injustice of the arrangement, and the scolding that seems to come out of nowhere.  Why does Jesus embarrass her in this way?  What is this about?

As we think about it, we take Jesus’s words “Mary has chosen the better part” in some literal, black & white way that implies that Martha has chosen the “lesser” part.  Some of us say, “Let’s dive into Mary and be right!  So what is Mary doing—she’s lounging around with Jesus.  OK.  I’ll stop working hard and leave that to other people.”  Others reject the story entirely, claiming that Jesus hasn’t shown fairness, regardless of how we spin it.  But that doesn’t seem reasonable either.

What if we don’t see Jesus’s instructions to Martha as an either/or, but simply as directive.  What if he isn’t scolding Martha at all, but encouraging her to stop looking at what Mary isn’t doing and instead look at what she is.  What she is doing is behaving as a disciple and listening to Jesus.  And what is Martha doing?  She is talking.  Jesus doesn’t condemn Martha for being in the other room, or for doing housework, but praises Mary for listening to Him.

So then, if we begin to look at what Jesus wants of Martha, we get 1) don’t be distracted and 2) shut up and listen.  In feeling for poor Martha, we are tempted to get distracted by the conversation about distraction.  Again, Jesus doesn’t condemn Martha for hosting, but, perhaps her using her hosting as an excuse to be distracted from Jesus.  She demands of Jesus something and uses her responsibilities to avoid the one thing Jesus wants of her: to listen.  This reminds me of the pious young man who comes to Jesus saying here is the laundry list of all the things I’m doing right, what must I do to get G-d’s grace?  And Jesus tells him to get rid of his stuff.  Doing is fine, but let’s get rid of the distractions so you can actually be with G-d.

The interesting thing about the way we read this pericope is that we are so eager to jump into the fray and make it about Martha vs. Mary, that we ignore the actual conflict.  All of the problem is on Martha.  She is anxious about fairness and she is obsessed with her sister and getting this stuff done, and what does she do?  She tries to draw her company into a family squabble that is only taking part in Martha’s brain.

I am not trying to condemn Martha in any way, but I’m trying to point out that only one figure in the story is acting up and only one that has a problem and that is Martha.  What does it tell us that many of us feel sympathetically toward her?  What do you think it means that we associate so much with this “victim” that we are willing to paint the exchange as a crime?

As we imagine that living room, with Jesus on the couch, Mary on the floor next to him, perhaps the disciples spread around the room, and Martha separated from them in the kitchen, let’s choose to hear Jesus’s words as comforting and instructive, not in condemnation or derision:

“Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing.”

These are strong and helpful words.  Hear instead: “Martha, Martha, your distractions are keeping you from listening to me.  Come join your sister.”  Perhaps the best way to be Martha is to listen to Jesus and share with Mary, instead of picking a fight.