Sermons

Martha and Mary and the Messiah
Luke 10:38-42, John 11:1-6, 17-27
Sermon preached by Rev. Jeanette Mathews

You might have heard something this week of the controversy that surrounded the Oscar acceptance speech by Michael Moore, who won a best documentary award for the film "Bowling for Columbine". In his speech he pondered the difference between reality and fiction, and suggested that his president was more active in the world of fictitious reason than reality. He was booed off the stage, but some commentaries I heard were in strong empathy with his challenge. Every now and again in the past couple of weeks I've stopped to wonder at the strange mixture that makes up our lives at present - our country is at war but we would hardly know it as life seems to go on so normally. We see the bombs and devastation if we choose to look, but it all seems so far away. As time goes on, in fact, it seems more like a movie than reality. With the television coverage straying into the realm of entertainment I wonder if we are becoming immune to it. Yes, life goes on, but war in the Gulf still manages to encroach on our consciousness through the media with regular radio updates and special news bulletins that replace normal afternoon children's programming, as well as protest marches, bumper stickers, knowledge of friends or family members in that region or who are being sent off with the troops. We are learning to live with this uneasy mix of ordinary life and momentous world events that we are a part of whether we like it or not.

Today we've read two stories from the gospels of the women Mary and Martha. As I've had the opportunity to preach in recent months I've been trying to highlight the stories of women in the bible, and finding the relevance of these stories for us today. Martha and Mary's stories are also a mixture of ordinary domestic life and a reaching out to much more profound realities. In the Luke story there is a question of focus - Mary's devotion is seemingly contrasted with Martha's preoccupation for domestic chores. We are left to wonder if Mary's choice is the better one. But in the John passage - part of a much longer chapter on the death and raising of Lazarus who was the brother of Martha and Mary, it is Martha who stands out as the woman of faith. Faith in Jesus' power, faith in his relationship with God, faith in a meaningful afterlife, and most importantly faith in Jesus as the Messiah, the anointed one who would bring in God's Kingdom. As we'll go on to discuss, both women have something to teach us. Mary's devotion reminds us of the disciplines of faith that keep us focussed on Christ and our walk with him. Martha's confession of faith suggests that what we believe in will impinge on how we live our daily lives.

The stories of Martha and Mary, particularly Luke's scene of relaxed friendship, give rise to different images as I and others reflect on them.

Our own window in the church depicts Martha with a fruit bowl and Mary at Jesus' feet, and it gives me the impression of equality between the sisters with Jesus touching Mary but looking directly at Martha. But other images contrast the differences between them more strongly. I read of another stained glass window in a church in Germany showing Martha with a spoon and kettle, and a picture in a children's bible showing Martha with a mixing bowl leaning against a table, legs apart, while fragile Mary appears lost to the world. In the wonderful book of women in bible, art and literature there is even an Oriental rendering: showing Martha in kimono and holding a tray with tea cups while Mary sits on a lovely rug amidst the cherry blossoms at the feet of Jesus.

But this domestic scene isn't the only setting for images of the two sisters. In Florence a painting by Fra Angelico shows Martha and Mary with Jesus and the other disciples in the Garden of Gethsemane: in it Jesus has his hands uplifted in prayer while the male disciples sleep at his feet but the two women are awake - Mary is shown reading with her eyes downcast but Martha has her hands lifted also in prayer, sharing the concerns of her friend and Lord in his dark hour.

As I was reflecting on this mixture of ordinary domestic life and the momentous events that our faith is based on my eye was caught again by a card on my office wall - I'm sure I've mentioned it before - of a woman floating just above the trees, holding a lit candle in front of her, wearing colourful skirts and petticoats and laden with baby, pots and spoons, saltshaker and broom, flowers, a pet dog, musical instruments, keys, a book and inkwell. The card was given to me at my induction and I leave it there each year because she seems to wonderfully combine the need for reflection and action in the journey of faith.

I don't want to spend much time contrasting the Marys and Marthas of the world. There has been a tendency to set the contemplative against the active, meditation over industry, relaxed listening in opposition to restless caring for material requirements.

Not only are these pairs contrasted, they have been ranked into superior and inferior, with the life of contemplation and intellectual labour being seen as better than life in the ordinary domestic world. And throughout history this has taken over theology and the church as well as philosophy and public life. Even Luther said "Martha your work must be punished and regarded for nothing.. I do not want any work but Mary's, and that is faith." Interestingly enough, it is the mystics of the middle ages, the very ones who chose lives of contemplation, who have regarded Martha more positively. Meister Eckhart in the 13th Century expressed a radical view when he regarded Mary as representing the immature, early stages of spiritual life, choosing the good part but not knowing that the better is yet to come, represented for him by Martha.

To learn from these sisters we need to rediscover both women, Martha and Mary, get the two sisters together rather than opposing them to one another, and then show how both are needed as we understand what it means to serve the Messiah.

We have mainly thought about Luke's domestic scene. John's is a different story, but most probably about the same people - Martha and Mary of Bethany and their brother Lazarus. It is an important chapter in John's gospel, a long one so we haven't read it all, but you are probably familiar with the story. Lazarus becomes ill and dies before Jesus arrives - it is clear that coming so close to Jerusalem is a dangerous thing for Jesus to do but he comes anyway. The visit results in Jesus raising Lazarus after four days in the tomb, but ends with the sinister plot to put Jesus to death. So it is a life-giving story, but as one commentator puts it, "a raising that leads to death" (Moloney).

None of this, of course, is known to Martha and Mary as they wait for their friend in whom they had such faith. The Martha of John is given a new dimension to the picture we already have from Luke: she is still the active one, but active about matters of faith. She challenges Jesus as Job dared to argue with God; she answered his questions with clarity and honesty. She is strong, self assured, down-to-earth, lucid, someone prepared to tell the truth, whether it be the pragmatic statement "I know there will be a stench when you open the grave" or the theological truth of her confession: "I know that you are the Messiah, the Son of God."

We should be aware that her counterpart in the gospels is Peter - the rock on which the church was built - and the only male disciple to make a confession of faith as profound as Martha's.

The sisters are much more clearly unified in John's gospel. Both come out to meet Jesus - something that grieving women would not normally do. Both offer their faith in his miraculous power. Mary again falls at his feet, the position of discipleship, but echoes the words of her sister. In fact, in both gospel stories Mary is portrayed as a disciple, sitting at the feet of Jesus. This was exceptional for women. Jesus allowed her to stay there and commended her for her choice.

But service was also a definition of discipleship in Luke. Jesus said later in the gospel that the one who serves has modelled themselves on him. (Luke 22:24-27)

And later traditions surrounding Mary and Martha see them both as active and united in their faith and witness. They supposedly crossed the ocean together to preach and teach in France. Something that we learn from them is that both aspects of service are needed to respond to Jesus and be his disciple. Active work and a life of pray and contemplation. A new buzz word in church circles is "integrated" - we are beginning to speak of integral mission where proclamation and social action are held together. We would encourage each other to have an integrated faith where all of life is imbued with the presence of Jesus. The song that we have sung says it well - "I'll love the Lord with all that is inside me". We have to learn to bring the two parts together, even if our natural inclination leans one way or the other.

Those of us who are busy and focussed mainly on domestic chores, the care of children, the provision of meals, need to develop a spirituality that gives life and enhances faith in the midst of that busy-ness.

Perhaps you could practice praying while stirring in the mixing bowl: with each turn of the spoon a family member can be remembered or a petition named, folded into the love of God and the loving concern of the one stirring.

Or perhaps there could be rituals developed around meals or special occasions that remind the family of the presence of God amongst us at all times. Our family, sometimes more regularly than others, have a simple ritual that we call "Special Bread and Juice". We each share and pray for things that make us glad or sad, then break homemade bread and share a cup of grape juice to remind ourselves of the presence of Christ in both our glad and sad times. (on a morning when we celebrate infant dedication it is good to reflect how we can help build faith in our children).

But there is also a danger for Christians to become so focussed on their faith walk that the world is shut out.

Last week we had Bob Douglas speaking to us in Sunday@seven about his involvement as a Christian activist in the peace movement in Canberra. He commented that very few church people are active in the organisation ACT NOW, and during the week challenged us in the churches to take a lead on Palm Sunday, a day where the churches and the peace movement have traditionally connected. (You'll see a note about that in the bulletin). We need to integrate our belief in a God of peace and justice with an active expression of that.

I find that words can be very powerful, and even though I am not a poet myself I am drawn to the power of some poets that I read. Some time ago I kept an article about the Australian poet Rosemary Dobson which referred to a poem called "Folding the Sheets" - for her a rare political poem. She described it as a poem for international understanding between women because, the world over, we all fold sheets. She also said it is a plea for all people to have the same benefits - clean water and clean sheets on a bed. In a week that has been dominated by the crisis of Basra we need to keep challenging ourselves to live our lives in such a way that others are served. Let me read the poem to you:

You and I will fold the sheet
Advancing towards each other
From Burma, from Lapland.
From India where the sheets have been washed in the river
And pounded upon stones:
Together we will match the corners.
From China where women on either side of the river
Have washed their pale cloth in the White Stone Shallows
'Under the shining moon.'
We meet as though in the formal steps of a dance
To fold the sheets together, to put them to air
In wind, in sun, over bushes, or by the fire.
Your turn. Now mine.
We fold them and put them away until they are needed.
A wish for all people when they lie down in bed -
Smooth linen, cool cotton, the fragrance and stir of herbs
And the faint but perceptible scent of sweet clear water.

Even domestic tasks can draw us together in a common desire for justice. Jesus said of Mary, "She has chosen the better part." All of us, at all times should seek the better part, integrating the good news with our daily life, and the daily life of so many needy in our city and around the globe.

Both Martha and Mary were women in scripture who were not identified as mothers, wives, or harlots, but as the friends and followers of Jesus. Mary sat at the feet of her Lord, receiving from him that which could not be taken away. Martha provided food, hospitality and friendship, but also understood who he was and what he was doing in the world. In her confession "you are the Messiah, the one coming into the world" she announces that the reign of God has begun in Jesus - a future world is already beginning. And this confession comes in the midst of grieving over the death of her brother. Even in places of pain new life can emerge, new hope can flourish. Eternal life is brought into the present by Jesus.

And yet the narrative turns again, because in coming to Bethany to give Lazarus back his life, Jesus turns his face to Jerusalem and steps out into his own journey of the passion.

I attended a funeral this week - the grandmother of Sophia who comes to our church. One of her sons in his obituary spoke of her being born in Greece at a time of world war, and dying last week as the war in Iraq broke out. But he went on to speak of her life in between - an ordinary life of domestic duties, her commitment to her family, her generosity to those in need and her strong faith, all elements that meant one ordinary woman made a difference to the world around her.

As we learn to live with the uneasy mix of normal life and extraordinary times, we can remind ourselves that we serve a God who has experienced both - ordinary domestic human life and intense darkness and suffering. But this God is on the side of life, not death. On the side of hope, not despair. This God is active through those who try to make a difference to the world around them, who integrate faith and action, who remain focussed on Jesus and follow him, on the road to the cross but beyond to eternal life, life that begins now.

30 March 2003


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Last updated: 2 April2003