On 10 July 2013 someone posted a YouTube video. Three days later it had 5 million hits. Here is the link:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uD6wdrVFc0g

The one minute clip shows an amazing life-or-death race. It was shot by some Krueger Park tourists on safari in South Africa. Routinely and sternly, visitors to the park are told to stay in their vehicles at all times. But tourists being tourists, you know the rest of the story. The video shows cars parked along the access road with all their windows and doors wide open, and people hanging out every which way in order to get a better view.

In this case what everyone was gawking at was a herd of gazelles being chased down by two amazingly speedy cheetahs. Suddenly the whole chase changed course and headed into the roadway. Predator and prey came racing through the lineup of parked cars, then disappeared into the trees on the other side of the road. Moments later one gazelle doubled back — again, running towards the road — with the cheetah pair in hot pursuit.

Feeling the hot breath of death on its heels, the terrified gazelle made an incredible choice. It hurled itself INTO a Toyota minivan whose side door had been slid open. The confused cheetahs ran on past, looking around for the prey that had been so close only moments before. As the disappointed cheetahs ran off, the owners of the “get-away car” opened the other sliding door and the gazelle did an “exit-stage-left” back out into the wilderness.

And we think we live with stress!

“Stress” is one of the greatest contributors to a host of diseases and debilitating maladies suffered by people living in our rapidly rotating world. The popularity of Zombie movies may reflect a culture where it seems that everyone is walking around, if not dead, then at least in a state of PTSD (Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder). With our smart phones and ear buds, we are never out-of-touch, which is another way of saying we never have any “down time” and we never can escape. To say that we can always find the world is also to say that the world can always find us.

The fact is that whether you are a gazelle being chased by a cheetah, or an early human being hunted down by a saber toothed tiger — life is stressful. Living with cancer or heart disease or diabetes in the twenty-first century is stressful. But so was living through the successive plagues of the Black Death that decimated the populations of Europe in the Middle Ages. Most likely it was anthrax as well as bubonic plague that was responsible for epidemics of the so-called Black Death.

The Black Death in Medieval Europe ended in the winter of 1351-52. It was the worst epidemic in recorded history. It had killed 25% to 45% of the people in only four years. Venice, the only Italian city to keep accurate death records, reveals that the Black Death killed 60% of its population. In fact, the plague was so virulent that it was said that one might have breakfast with one’s family, and dinner with one’s ancestors. In the New World called “America,” between 1616 and 1619, a sickness — probably bubonic plague introduced by visiting fishermen — swept through New England carrying off as much as 90 percent of its inhabitants.

The violence of twenty-first century terrorism is a terrible stressor. But so was the day-after-day face-off experienced by soldiers manning the barricades between France and Germany in World War I. As was the gruesome hand-to-hand combat endured by those who acted as a “shield wall” during the defense of England from the Danish invaders in the tenth century. As was the experience of all the smaller countries who faced the fierceness and force of the Roman Legion in the first century.

Violence is always stressful, whatever form it takes.

Regardless of how much your past week resembled diving headlong into a minivan to escape a cheetah, we must all remember that the twenty first century did not invent, nor has it perfected, stress. It was in 1865 that Lewis Carroll (aka Charles Lutwidge Dodgson) published his fantasy “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland.” Although the story was first told to small children being peacefully punted down the river in an idyllic English setting, the opening scenes of “Alice” gives us the “poster-boy” for stress.

As we all remember Alice gets to this wacky “Wonderland” by following a big white rabbit, who runs by her while frantically consulting his pocket watch and exclaiming “I’m late, I’m late, for a very important date!” That harried hare has lent his name to a lifestyle too many of us have embraced — the “White Rabbit Syndrome.” Always “late,” always rushing past the scenery, always diving down yet another rabbit hole to some more-important-than -here destination, always running to meet some “more important” than the person in front of you assignation.

The White Rabbit Syndrome is also known a “BMB” — the “Behold-Me-Busy” syndrome. Those suffering from “BMB” are not only perpetually overloaded and overwhelmed. They also feel compelled to announce their stressed out over-scheduling to everyone they encounter. If misery loves company, “BMB” is the new Black Plague. It is being spread by word of mouth by all who feel its effects.

In this week’s gospel text Martha is suffering from a serious case of “BMB.” After voluntarily opening her home to Jesus and his disciples, after willingly taking on the responsibilities of providing proper hospitality to her visitors, she begins to lose her focus. Martha no longer can see that she has in her midst a great prophet and preacher with a word from God to present to all who will listen. Instead Martha only sees how many mouths she has to feed. Instead of finding fellowship and fulfillment through listening to and learning from Jesus, all Martha feels is frustration and the friction of sibling sniping. From Martha’s perspective she is overwhelmed and over-worked. Her sister Mary is doing nothing to help. Mary is simply sitting and listening to their houseguest.

But when Martha goes all ballistic over Mary’s behavior, even lashing out at Jesus for not not caring about this unequal division of labor, “the Lord” points out the emptiness behind her “behold me busy” self-righteousness.

There is only “one thing” that needs Martha’s full attention. There is only “one thing” that is of ultimate importance.

There is only “one thing” required of her — and that is NOT serving the perfect meal.

In fact, as Augustine noted, Jesus is showing Martha the difference between providing yet another home-cooked meal, and receiving the eternal Bread of Life (Sermon 179.5) That night in Martha and Mary’s house, the “good eats” were not going to come out of the kitchen. The real-deal meal was being served up at Jesus’ feet, where the one who was the Bread of Life was offering all who would listen an invitation to partake of the Kingdom of God. It is one thing to welcome Jesus into your home and hearth, like Martha has done. It is quite another to do what Mary has done: welcome Jesus into your heart.

Martha thought that Mary was “slacking off.” Martha thought that Mary was “playing hooky.” And she was. But here’s the thing: “playing hooky” is what God intended for humanity. God was “playing” when God created the world and everything in it. Play is the essence of creativity, of creation. God put Adam and Eve into the ultimate playground — the Garden of Eden. Eden was completely stress free. Food was plentiful and easily available. Adam and Eve were large and in charge. God strolled in the Garden in the evening. There was nothing but beauty and bounty — until the spell of Godplay was broken by sin.

The loss of innocence, the success of stress — that is the essence of the fall. And so “play” became a four-letter word, as in “don’t play with me” or “he’s a player.” In the church the Martha and Mary story became a battle between the contemplative life (Mary) or the life of active service (Martha). In the Eastern Church the contemplative role of Mary continues to be strong. After the Reformation the work ethic of the Protestant theologians encouraged a more Martha-oriented life. Who has not heard, in one form or another, the sermon “Will it be a Martha or a Mary Christmas?”

Both extremes miss the mark. Jesus is not saying that activity is bad. Jesus is not saying that meditation or contemplation is superior. Jesus is saying that loving God is what matters most; attending to our relationship with Christ is the first and best thing we can and must do to live the true life of faith. And any love relationship means embracing a “theology of play.”

Jesus does not want us to “work harder,” Jesus wants us to “play harder.” Jesus wants us to revel in his presence, to relish the part of the kingdom that is present now among us, and to use the gift of the Holy Spirit to “Go Out and Play” and invite the world to “Come and Play.”

In Genesis, creation is an act of play. All creation is an act of play, including the creation of the body of Christ. Communities of faith are communities of play, communities at play who join Jesus in what he’s up to in the world.

There is a saying the “If you love what you do, you never work a day in your life.” The ultimate in life is when your vacation and your vocation are one and the same, when you are paid to play.

If you first and always love the Lord, and sit at his feet, then every act of discipleship is “play.” Your vocation IS your vacation. There is no disjuncture between living your life and loving the Lord. All of life becomes a playground of the Spirit, whether you’re in a Martha or a Mary role.

So I send you out this morning: to play. Go Out and Play. Show others what it means to invite Jesus, not just into your home, but into your heart.

“Come home, come home;

You who are weary come home;

earnestly, tenderly, Jesus is calling,

calling, O sinner, come home! (“Softly and Tenderly”)

“Into my heart, Into my heart,

Come into my heart, Lord Jesus.

Come in today, come in to stay,

Come into my heart, Lord Jesus.”

_______________________

COMMENTARY

Every good cook knows that timing is everything. It takes lots of prep work and a skillful ordering of tasks to make it possible for a finished meal to come together at the same time.

You cannot take the twenty-pound turkey out of the freezer at noon and expect to have it for dinner at six.

You cannot start bread dough half an hour before people are to sit down at the table.

It takes careful timing and teamwork to put out a big special meal. This kind of performance pressure is apparently what fuels the discussion in this week’s gospel text.

Luke now follows up his “Good Samaritan” parable with another exchange that only he reports. As Jesus continues on his journey towards Jerusalem he also continues to rely on the welcoming hospitality of others while on his way. Although Luke does not name the village Jesus now enters, John 11:1 notes that the sisters Martha and Mary, and their brother Lazarus, resided in Bethany, Jesus’ “favorite place on earth” (in the words of the title of a new book by Frank Viola). When Jesus and his disciples arrived at their door it is Martha who formally “welcomed” them into their home. As hostess it is now Martha’s duty to provide for those she has received.

Mary, however, is not described as “welcoming” Jesus, but as “listening” to him. Once this entourage is inside their home, Mary intentionally chooses to sit “at the Lord’s feet and listened to what was he was saying.” Luke highlights the prophetic nature of Jesus’ presence and words by referring to him here as “Lord.” Mary’s actions are unusual in several ways.

First it would naturally fall among the duties of the women of this household to provide food and drink for the house guests, whether or not there were other servants available to help. Accordingly, Mary should be engaged in those preparations.

Second, and even more unusual than where Mary is not, is where she is: seated at Jesus’ feet. This is the place where a dutiful disciple would be situated. Shockingly, Mary’s presence and posture reveal that this is indeed her identity.

Never mind that her status as hostess suggested that she should be somewhere else.

Never mind that her identity as a first century Jewish woman meant that she would never have been seated as a student/disciple of any rabbi or teacher.

Mary has not only received Jesus into her home, she has received him as a prophet and listens attentively to his prophetic word (“logos”).

Martha, on the other hand, is having a meltdown. She is “distracted” (“perispao”) by all there is to do, the laundry list of “tasks” that must be accomplished in order to get the food to the table. So flustered and frustrated is Martha that she commits a grave social faux pas. She goes to her guest of honor and tries to embroil him in her domestic drama. Martha’s words to Jesus are far more accusatory than imploring — her “Don’t you care . . .” calls to mind the panicked pleas of the disciples as they feared for their lives in the stormy sea (Mark 4:38).

Again, Luke’s text identifies Jesus as “the Lord” when he responds to Martha’s complaint. Jesus notes that Martha is anxious (“merimnao”) and “troubled” (“thorubazomai”) by many things. While this first term describes the web of worries found in this world, the second term was more commonly used to describe the great noise made by a gathered crowd — an “uproar.” Instead of Martha being entangled and overwhelmed by the demands and noise of this world, Jesus points to Mary as an example of one who has found and focused on the “one thing” that is truly necessary.

Within the context of this story this “one thing” is Jesus himself, the one whom Martha had welcomed into her home. Martha, fixated on fixing stuff, forgot that the most central act of hospitality is to focus on the invited guest. Of course, the fact that in this case the guest is “the Lord” makes this focus a lifetime attachment, not just for a momentary meal.

Martha had welcomed Jesus into her home, but Mary had welcomed Jesus into her heart.

With the Martha and Mary story following on the heels of the Good Samaritan parable, Luke’s text has now affirmed both aspects of the Great Commandment declared by the lawyer in 10:27. To “love you neighbor as yourself,” even as the Samaritan so compassionately demonstrated, must be first rooted in the commitment to “love the Lord” . . . with all one’s heart, soul, strength, and mind. That is the “one thing” that must take precedence over all else in life.