A religious poll asked people this question: “Do you believe in the Second Coming of Christ?” If the respondent said yes, a subsequent question was put to them: “What would you do if you knew Jesus was coming back today?”
One young man replied, “Look busy, Man! Look busy!”
Isn’t that the mindset of our age? It seems as though most of us build our lives on the premise that personal worth and significance, as well as meaning in life, is dependent upon being busy. Too often we are identified by what we produce and what we achieve. We are even identified on the basis of how much we consume — not only of material goods but education, public events, passive hobbies and pleasure.
Psychologists, sociologists, psychiatrists, and others who study the ways of humankind, describe us as a driven people. One of our primary characteristics is that we are under enormous stress and pressure. We are tyrannized by fear — fear of failure, fear that we will not achieve, fear that we will not stack up to other people’s expectations of us. Add to that our confusion about who we are and our uncertainty about where we are going, and you end up with a “stressed-out people.”
I believe that all the strained relationships we know, the staggering divorce rate, the distrust that characterizes relationships, and the growing climate of violence, are the consequences of this “stressed-out life.”
“Burnout” has become a term everybody knows, because we see people around us collapsing into numbness and addiction — if it’s not addiction to drugs, it’s addiction to television and pleasure and the rat-race of getting ahead.
It’s little wonder that a USA Today poll a couple of years ago showed that an overwhelming majority of people from all walks of life, when asked what they wanted most from life, replied “peace of mind.”
And so we come to our morning gospel lesson from Luke -- the story of the best-known sisters in the Bible: Mary and Martha.
A pastor tells of a painting his wife created and said that he played a big role in its creation. The painting is based on a similar story in John’s Gospel and is entitled “Broken and Poured Out.” “When you look at the painting,” the pastor said, “you notice Jesus’ feet. They are marvelous, sinewy, bony, strong.” And then he said, “they are my feet.” It was the pastor himself who sat for six hours, modeling the feet of Jesus for his wife’s painting.
Six days before the Passover, Jesus had come to Bethany where he had raised Lazarus from the dead. Lazarus’ sisters, Mary and Martha, were there, and Martha served a meal to them. But, Mary took a pound of costly ointment, and anointed the feet of Jesus and wiped his feet, and the house was filled with the fragrance of the ointment. Judas got mad at that and wanted to know why the ointment was not sold and the money given to the poor.
The painting that the pastor’s wife created captures that scene. Mary, having anointed Jesus with that precious perfume, washes his feet with her hair, and with her tears, and dries them with her hair. But in the painting, the artist captures the essence of Jesus’ life and ministry with focus on an overturned chalice on the white tablecloth. At first, it seems incidental. But as you immerse yourself in the painting, you know this is the central symbol. The red wine is spilled and is running off the edge of the table — a graphic reminder of Jesus’ life broken and poured out in love for us.
But this story in Luke’s Gospel is a bit different.
It seems that these two sisters, Mary and Martha, have a household. At one point in Jesus’ public ministry, he and, quite likely, some of his disciples came to Mary and Martha’s household and stayed with them. Martha was busy with all the things that hostesses have to do. She was cleaning, cooking, baking, and attending to the needs of her guests. Mary, on the other hand, lifted not one finger to help. She sat at Jesus’ feet and listened to the conversation and the teaching there.
Now reading this story with our 21st century cultural spectacles on, we might grow somewhat disappointed in this character Mary for her unconcern for her sister’s labors. We would have reason to think that she was inconsiderate or rude to her sister. But if we had been first century Palestinian Jews, we would have seen Mary’s behavior in a much more profoundly negative light. For you see in the Middle East, in ancient times, there was an unbreakable law of hospitality. When you brought someone into your home or into your tent, you had a moral obligation to provide for them whatever their needs might be, even to the point of depriving yourself. Indeed, if you consider what it was like to live in the harsh environment of the Middle East in the ancient world, this law of hospitality developed out of the reality that travelers were always in danger. Sometimes they were in danger from bandits and brigands, and always in danger from the elements. If you were a traveler, you were engaged in an activity that was treacherous. If you were to be taken in by anyone, the act of taking in a traveler implied a readiness to provide for the traveler’s needs because those were often life or death issues. So, in the Middle East, in the first century, you simply did not have someone in your home and fail to provide every courtesy. It was not just a matter of courtesy; it was the law of the society.
Martha was busy doing what was expected, not just out of hospitality in the superficial sense; she was doing what was demanded of her by one of the deepest and most profound and most binding customs of her era. With that in mind then, Mary’s frivolous attitude towards the law of hospitality would have to be seen as almost scandalous. (Carl L. Schenck, “Many Anxieties — One Need”)
That’s the story. What learning is here for us?
I.
First, there is confirmation, here in the New Testament, that persons have different temperaments. That was a big problem. Mary and Martha were temperamentally polls apart, and their temperaments clashed. Martha was the active, get-tings-done, organizing type. Mary was reflective, quiet. She wanted to sit at Jesus’ feet and listen.
I’m not sure we pay enough attention to this — in our families, or in other relationships. We don’t give it enough attention in the church. It doesn’t take much observation to recognize the fact that some people are naturally dynamos of activity. Others are inclined to quietness. And isn’t it true that within the church, we expect everybody to fit the same mold. We talk about people being “go-getters”. I know that when the Nominating Committee works, on selecting the leadership of the church, that’s always a big question. More often than not, the Committee is tempted to select people who are inclined to hyper-activity. We need to realize that not all people are of the same temperament.
The reason that’s so important in the church is that there is no right or wrong way to serve God. God didn’t make us all alike.
In some churches, couples planning to marry are required to attend an all-day workshop — which is a part of their preparation for marriage. This is apart from their counseling with the particular minister who will be celebrating the wedding ceremony. In one church, part of the workshop involves taking the Myers-Briggs Test. This is really a temperament test.
It reveals dimensions of our personality and how we perceive things, process information, and respond to the world.
Whether we are extrovert or introvert. Whether intuition or sensing is dominant. Whether we are highly structured and judge or whether we perceive more flexibly. Whether we make decisions dependent primarily on thinking or feeling.
It’s amazing what couples discover about each other in taking that test. And if they will use that information, and that insight, as they build their life together, their marriage will be a richer, more rewarding one, because nothing is more important in a relationship than to accept the fact that each person is different, and there is nothing bad about being different. God has created us that way. Each one of us is a unique, unrepeatable miracle of God. So, in telling this story, Luke is affirming that persons have different temperaments. But no matter what our temperament, our purpose is to love God and to enjoy God forever.
So, this is basic — to recognize that persons have different temperaments.
II.
Now consider this second learning from our story. It’s easy to be distracted from the center — to do the good and neglect the best.
Look at Martha. We have already indicated that she was playing out her obligation to a hilt. What she was doing was absolutely right in terms of the deepest and most profound and binding customs of her day. But don’t you think she would have enjoyed sitting and listening to the teachings of Jesus — of course she would. But there was the meal to be prepared. Jesus was their guest and had to be fed. We can’t really condemn Martha and persons like her. I’m glad — because I’m one of them. But there is a call here — a reminder — a warning. There is a tyranny here that we don’t often recognize. It’s the tyranny of the immediate. All of us know it, if we would reflect just a bit. Most of us are driven to do that which has to be done immediately, without giving thought to the overall situation.
Jesus taught us about that in another situation.
He challenged the Pharisees because they had lost all sense of proportion between one duty and another. Listen to Jesus in Luke 11:42: “But woe to you Pharisees! For you tithe mint and rue and herbs of all kinds, and neglect justice and the love of God; it is these you ought to have practiced, without neglecting the others.”
They had taken the letter of the law to an extreme and violated its purpose and spirit. Of course they should tithe — but to extend that law to the smallest herbs — mint and rue — that was ridiculous. The law of tithing had to be kept, but in keeping it, don’t forget that there is an immeasurably higher law — loving God and loving our neighbor.
So Jesus’ word to Martha is a warning to us. We can be distracted from the center, doing the good and neglecting the best. We can become victims of the tyranny of immediate demands.
III.
And that leads to this final learning — and the big point of the sermon. All of us must find and take the time to let our souls catch up with our bodies. Someone observed that most of the time we are so anxious to do something that we neglect to be someone. While doing is important, so is being. The world of getting things done is vital — the world of achievements, hard work, of goals reached and tasks completed, of obligations assumed and honored.... But the world of being is also vital — the world of quiet listening and resonating with our inner feelings, the world of coming close to persons, the world of meditation and prayer, the world of watching sunrise and sunset, and seeing things in the world as though for the first time, the world of reflection and encounter, the world of laughter and fun, the world of wonder and awe.” (Shelby, Ibid., p. 3)
That can’t happen if we don’t find and take time to let our souls catch up with our bodies.
Have you ever noticed how some people always seem to be invading other people’s space -- always getting a bit too close? You know, the type that never settles for just a handshake and instead insists on a bear hug.
Dr. Dahrl Pederson was commissioned by NASA to study the human need for personal space in order to determine what effects the cramped, confining conditions aboard a spaceship might have on our astronauts. His studies show that strangers don’t like to get any closer than 14 to 17 inches from each other and for most people the desired distance is much greater.” (Donald J. Shelby, “His Journey and Ours: Space and Silence”)
I cite this to make the point that not only do we need margins of space around our bodies, we need inner space and silence around our souls. We need a place, and we need time, to allow our souls to catch up with our bodies. Stress is one of the number one killers in the world today. I don’t need to cite all the figures — you know them already. The data is clear. There is no killer-disease that is not either caused by or intensified by our levels of stress. We need the place and we need to find the time to allow our souls to catch up with our bodies.
A pastor shared this story about a visit he made one Sunday afternoon to a member of his congregation who was a resident in a convalescent home. Her name was Annie.
Annie was looking out the window in her room when (he) entered. “Preacher,” she beckoned, “come over here and look at those birds out on the patio.” When he stepped over to join her at the window, she said, “You know, when I was a little girl on the farm back in Missouri, one Sunday morning my father called to me to get ready for church. I was watching some blackbirds out the parlor window. I said, ‘Papa, I wish I could be like those blackbirds and fly away when I want to. I don’t want to go to church today.’ My Papa knelt beside me and said gently, ‘Annie, there will come a day when you will want to go to church and you will Not be able to attend. Then you will realize why it is so important.’”
Annie turned to me and said with tears in her eyes, “Today is one of those days, Preacher, today is one of those days.”
We need to let our souls catch up with our bodies. Worship is one of the ways to do that — gathering with God’s people each Sunday to praise God. Daily times of prayer and scripture reading. Deliberate retreats. Occasions during the year when you intentionally set aside a weekend for a conference — when you focus your mind and heart on the things of God and the things that really matter. Intentional sharing with other Christians. You will be given the opportunity this Fall to become a part of a growth group. I hope if you have not experienced that way of allowing your soul to catch up with your body that you will do so.
Mary and Martha teach us many things. But these three lessons are central. We need to honor the fact that different people have different temperaments. Each one of us is a unique, unrepeatable miracle of God. Two, it is easy to be distracted from the center — to do the good and neglect the best. And three, all of us must find and take the time to let our souls catch up with our bodies.
