Serving Together, Learning Together
a sermon based on Luke 10:38-42
Randy L Quinn

Unlike last week’s scripture text, the Good Samaritan, I don’t know many people who call today’s text one of their favorite stories of Jesus.

In fact, many of us don’t really like this story because we agree with Martha. After all, the point of the Good Samaritan story that we read last week was to go and to serve (Lk 10:37). There are numerous places in scripture where the importance of work and service are highlighted . What Jesus seems to be saying to Martha contradicts what we’ve been taught.

Not only that, we can imagine the scene for Martha and we have pity for her. Jesus arrives like a modern-day politician on the campaign trail. Not only are his disciples at his side, there are also people who want to see him who gather around him, there are reporters who want to hear every nuance of every word he says, and there are the protestors who disagree with his decision to go into the home of a woman.

It’s a noisy and raucous crowd that meets at her doorstep and Martha is worried about how to feed them all. She took her lessons from the other Martha – Martha Stewart – and she knows how to prepare a wonderful and delightful meal, but this is a test she’s not sure she is ready for.

Maybe you’ve been in Martha’s place before.

A crowd gathers at your dinner table. Maybe it’s a family reunion. Maybe there is a wedding and friends and family are coming in from out of town. Perhaps it’s another occasion that brings guests to your home – a birthday party or a graduation celebration. Maybe it’s just a Thanksgiving Dinner.

It’s a crowd.

You want to be a good host. So you set out the good china. You spend hours if not days making sure the house is clean and orderly. You plan a menu and do all of the shopping. You do as much prep-work as you can in the kitchen before company arrives.

The doorbell rings. The guests arrive and the flurry begins.

First you take their coats; you show them to their seats, you offer them something to drink. You rush to the kitchen to get the appetizers. (I’d say hors d’oeuvres, but I can’t remember how to spell it!)

More guests arrive. More coats, more drinks, more food.

Then you remember the meal must be cooked. Timing things so you can have each course ready on time – but not too early – you begin to hear the doorbell each time as a nuisance. Your friendly smile wears thin as you rely on others to greet each new wave of guests.

Pretty soon you can’t see the forest for the trees. Pots are boiling, the oven timer is dinging, and while you’re tending things in the kitchen the guest of honor is someplace else.

That’s when you think, “I should have hired a caterer.”

It’s easy to focus on having a nice family dinner and forget the family.

In the same way, Martha is apparently distracted by entertaining her guests rather than enjoying their company.

In the course of my life, there has been a tremendous increase in the segment of our economy known as the “entertainment” and “hospitality” industries. We now pay people to entertain us rather than finding our own amusements. We now pay people to bring us a meal or to provide us with a comfortable bed and pillow.

(Though my definition of a comfortable pillow and Ronda’s definition are so different that we bring our own pillows with us – some places meet her needs and others meet mine, rarely do they offer both.)

In most motels, people pay for amenities or they try to save money by skipping the amenities. For some people a pool is essential. For others, clean towels are all they need. Some people look for “continental breakfasts,” while others look for room service.

In our trip from Washington State just three short weeks ago, we stayed in four different motels. Some were part of national chains with large staffs, others were small operations run by one family. Not a one of them took the time to get to know us, however. They checked us in, showed us where our room was and answered a few key questions. Not a one of them sat down and joined us for dinner or met us for breakfast.

None of the motels we stayed in were dirty. The focus of the staff was not on developing meaningful relationships with the customers but on providing clean rooms.

If Martha wants to be a part of the conversation, she needs to turn off the stove and let the meal wait. If she wants to set an elaborate dinner, she needs to focus on the dinner and not what people are doing in the other room.

There is nothing wrong with providing a clean room. And there is nothing wrong with creating a luscious feast that is both eye-appealing and tasty. A memorable meal is a worthy objective for Martha.

Nor is there anything wrong with sitting in the family room and visiting with the guests until they are all willing to help set the table or cook the meal or even help with the dishes. Meaningful conversation is a worthy goal for Martha, too.

The problem for Martha is a lack of focus. She can’t do both at once.

Mary made a choice and didn’t lose her focus. The Samaritan made his own choices and didn’t lose his focus, either.

The difference between Mary and Martha is not the difference between the perfect hostess and the perfect disciple. The difference is in their focus.

When I was serving as an intern pastor, I thought about taking up photography as a hobby. So I bought a fairly nice camera – not the most expensive one, just in case it didn’t work out, but a nice one.

I carried it to church functions. And it wasn’t long before I realized I had a choice. I could remain behind the camera and look for pictures that might capture good memories or I could mingle with the people and create meaningful memories.

I kept the camera for a few years – and in fact we may still have it but I don’t think so – but I rarely used it. I decided that my focus was on relationships and I couldn’t build those from behind a lens.

Now, in all fairness to some photographers – and some “Martha Stewart” types out there – I know some people can do both. They don’t lose sight of the guests while preparing a meal and they are able to have meaningful dialog while looking through the lens of a camera. I can’t. And I suspect most people are like me, they have a hard time keeping their eye on the forest while enjoying the individual trees within it.

Did you realize that of the four Gospel writers, only Luke tells this particular story? And only Luke tells the story of the Good Samaritan. And he puts them side by side, as if to say they are meant to be read together.

The lawyer came to Jesus and asked what he must do to inherit eternal life (Lk 10:25). Jesus answers with a parable and then Luke tells us this story.

The key to eternal life, Luke seems to be suggesting, is to find the balance between seeking God’s will and doing God’s will. We cannot do God’s will unless we spend time listening to find God’s will. There wouldn’t be a forest without the trees.

Mary is listening. Martha is serving. Both are important. What is more important than their actions, however, is their sense of purpose. Mary is listening to find out what God’s will for her is. Martha has forgotten that she is serving because God wants her to bring joy to the lives of others.

In 1989, I was asked by the Navy to help lead a class for Navy Reserve Chaplains and Religious Program Specialists (what other services call Chaplain’s Assistants). The purpose of the class was to help prepare these men and women to provide religious ministry to and with Marines. One of my assistants in the class was a Marine Corps Gunnery Sergeant.

One day we had a group of people going down a dusty trail to our training site when we crossed a shallow creek. In mid-stream, the Gunny had them stop. In formation, he had them get down and do pushups in the river. (The water was only wrist deep at that point.)

Afterwards I asked him about it. “Why did we do that?” I asked. “Just making memories, sir,” was his response. “Making memories.”

Last week, I spoke with someone who remembered their “Marine Corps Baptism.” Gunny Fanning knew what he was doing and why he was doing it. 15 years later those memories are still alive because he didn’t lose sight of the forest while looking at the trees.

Neither did Jesus. Neither did Mary.

I like to think that had Martha not forgotten her purpose that at the end of the meal Jesus would have joined her in the kitchen and helped with the dishes. I like to think that had she kept her focus Jesus may have made a powerful sermon illustration out of her wonderful hospitality.

I don’t know what would have happened. But I do know the next time I find myself in Martha’s role I will try to remember why I am serving.

Why do I serve? I serve because Jesus came to serve us and has asked us to serve others on his behalf.

Thanks be to God.

Amen.