Can you call it a personality test if it’s only one question? I don’t plan on answering that.
First things second. I need to introduce the co-author of this post: Stardoc, PhD, also known as “Thomas.” Stardoc and his wife Sonia are good friends of ours (Sonia has thus far denied my requests to write about interesting things that she says). Jonny coined the nickname, and I’m pretty sure that “Thomas” is stuck with it. “Star” is a loose reference to his favorite board game, Spirit Island, which is so high in complexity it could eat Settlers of Catan for second breakfast. “Doc” refers to his doctorate in Chemistry. Stardoc is an avid climber, and he makes perfect steak (reverse sear). Co-author is an interesting term, since he is responsible for the idea in its entirety.
But here we are.
Our families were having brunch together a few Sundays ago. While our combined nine children (aged nine and under) cavorted in the background, the Gospel story of Martha and Mary came up in conversation. I think the subject originally emerged because of dishes, but I’m not sure.
Here’s the story, in the NRSV:
38 Now as they went on their way, he entered a certain village, where a woman named Martha welcomed him into her home. 39 She had a sister named Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to what he was saying. 40 But Martha was distracted by her many tasks; so she came to him and asked, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself? Tell her then to help me.” 41 But the Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; 42 there is need of only one thing.[a] Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her.”
Here's the footnote from the MRSV (Meredith’s Revised Standard Version, which borrows heavily from the footnotes of the NAB):
This story, which Saint Luke sandwiched between the parable of the Good Samaritan and the Lord’s Prayer, shows two sisters taking radically different approaches to the guest in their house. Mary sits and listens to Jesus (assuming the posture of a disciple would have been a real “outside-the-box” choice for a woman of this era), and Martha works hard to get everything ready for dinner. The incongruency gets to Martha, and she informs Jesus about her concerns. Jesus, who generally fed large groups of people outside rather than inside, tells Martha not to worry too much about dinner. He makes it clear that Mary hasn’t done anything wrong.
So… why couldn’t Martha sit down?
I’ll invite you into our brunch conversation, but I want you to come up with your response first.
Why couldn’t Martha sit down?
We didn’t agree.
“Martha was right – who else was supposed to do the dishes, Jesus?”
“But what if she actually needed Mary to help her? It sounds like she was overwhelmed.”
“It wasn’t about the dishes. Martha’s problem was that she was so concerned about how she was being perceived.”
“I’m more of a Mary homeboy myself.” (That was Jonny – by the way, if you identify more with Mary, congratulations, you win the personality test.)
We didn’t come to a unified conclusion, which is the point of this post. As Stardoc observed upon reflection a few days later, we all read our own concerns and struggles onto Martha. Why couldn’t Martha sit down? It’s probably the same reason you can’t sit down. Whether it’s the to-do list, or the sense of overwhelm, or misplaced concerns about who’s thinking what about who, or something else, most of us are lingering in the kitchen instead of sitting at the feet of Jesus. And we, like Martha, reach a breaking point and snap at him, “Lord, do you not care?”
To all of us, Jesus says: “there is need of only one thing.”
We don’t need our workload lightened. We don’t need acclaim from everywhere. We don’t need to reach the end of the to-do list. We don’t need our heartache resolved.
We need to know that the Lord does care. There is need of only one thing – and maybe that’s it.
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