Proper 11C Luke 10:38-42

In the Gospel according to Peanuts, Lucy has just blasted Linus for something. Once She gets out of hearing, Linus says to Charlie Brown, “Big sisters are the crabgrass in the lawn of life.” I know that there are times when my younger granddaughter thinks that about her big sister. And if pressed, my brother might have felt something like that about me on more than one occasion.

I suspect that Mary felt like that when her older sister came charging in and told her to get on her feet and get in the kitchen and help. And we heard what Jesus said to Martha about stopping, being still, and listening.

“Southern women are great Marthas and proud of it. Having been raised in this culture, I know that supper in a
southern kitchen is a wonder to behold. Those who have traditional southern hospitality refined to an art never sit.
They hover. Plates are never allowed to go empty. Guests are continually asked if they need anything. In fact, many times the hostess will continue to cook all through the meal.

“When does the hostess eat? This is one of the South’s mysteries. The hostess keeps working, huffing around the table, a trickle of perspiration running past the string of pearls on her neck. She misses all dinner conversation, all sharing of feelings and information, and gives herself totally to serving.”

I can say that my own experience is that there are plenty of women in the North who, despite never having visited the South, must have southern blood in them. Especially those with Italian and Irish Catholic backgrounds.

“Also a wonder is the woman who greets the guests unflustered at the door with the table already set, the kitchen spotless. This hostess sits, talks, laughs and eats the appetizers with her guests. She excuses herself, goes to the kitchen, and returns with food that’s prepared and ready to eat. At dinner, she remains around the table, getting to know the guests, asking about their lives, sharing her own thoughts and feelings.

“Hospitality is an art form. … Theologically the purpose of hospitality is to prepare a welcoming space for encounters with God’s word. It’s not that God’s word cannot be heard in barren, inhospitable places or circumstances. God is not so limited, but we are. God can speak in any situation, but we, frail creatures, cannot always hear. Consider the struggle of the Hebrews in the wilderness where they were so preoccupied with the lack of creature comforts that they constantly complained against God and Moses. To keep their attention, to keep them moving, to keep them faithful, God often found herself preparing dinners of manna and quail. Only then, when fed, could they hear the word. (1).

So it is with us. Just take a look at lasagna dinners, fish fries, bake sales – any of the hospitable things involving food that we do to support the church and community. The world works because of Martha men and Martha women.

Every church needs a hundred Marthas. Because of them church budgets get balanced, church buildings get repaired and cleaned, babies and children have a Sunday School. When Marthas are missing Marys start scrambling to find the keys to lock doors, turn on the lights and turn on the air conditioning. Marthas are the Energizer Bunnies of the church: going and going and going." But Mary’s know when to tell them to rest, and not burn out. (2)

A parish priest was visiting an old woman in a nursing home whom he had known for years. She was a kind and generous person who had devoted her life to the service of God and her fellow human beings. Over the years her hands had become rough and gnarled and calloused from long hours of scrubbing tables and pots and pans as a volunteer worker in a shelter for the homeless.

She confided to him that now that her life was running out she was troubled about what she could say to the Lord when she saw Him. It had never been easy for her to express herself in words. “I can barely read and write,” she said. “I won’t know what to say or how to say it.”

Her visitor reminded her that the Lord would be more than pleased to know about all the good work she had done for others. “Don’t worry,” he assured her, “you won’t have to say one word. Just show Him your hands!” (3)

AMEN





1. Mary W. Anderson in The Christian Century, 7/1/1998, as printed in Synthesis for Proper 11C 2007, adapted.
2. Max Lucado, A Gentle Thunder, Word Publishing, 1995, page 127, in eSermons Illustrations for 22 July 2007, adapted.
3. Preacher’s Illustration Service Anthology, Voicings, modified.