One of my mom’s favorite
expressions was “cleanliness is next to godliness.” Usually, I heard this line as she was
standing in the doorway of my room. While
it sounds Biblical, you can’t find it there.
However, it appears that this must have been a go-to line for Jewish
moms in Jesus’ time, at least based on the many ritual cleansing rules in the
Law of Moses.
But there was another
virtue that the Jewish people considered even closer to godliness – hospitality. Living in a land surrounded by rocky deserts
and mountains, being a welcoming host was a paramount virtue. In today’s reading from Genesis 18, we see
Abraham and Sarah bustling about to provide a welcoming meal for the three men
who wander by their tent. Often, we hear the prophets call on the people
to welcome the stranger and take care of the widows and orphans.
In the New Testament, the virtuous
nature of hospitality sheds light in several ways. At the wedding feast at Cana, we see why Mary
considered it so important to tell Jesus that the host was running out of
wine. It would have been unconscionable and unforgivable to have breached hospitality in such a way. In Matthew 25, Jesus tells us that one of the
hallmarks of those who will be blessed by his Father is hospitality – “I was a
stranger and you welcomed me” (Mt 25:35).
Next Sunday, we’ll hear Jesus tell a story of a man who banged on his
neighbor’s door after everyone was already asleep! (Lk 11:5-8) Why would he do such a
thing? It turns a friend of his had
unexpectedly dropped by and he had nothing to feed them. Desperate times called for desperate
measures.
So what’s the deal with
poor Martha in today’s passage (Lk 10:38-42)?
Here she is doing her hospitable best, working her fingers to the bone
to provide for Jesus and the rest of the family. When she points out to Jesus that Mary isn’t
doing her share, Jesus seems completely unsympathetic. He doesn’t thank Martha for being so
hospitable; he doesn’t reprimand Mary to help her sister. Instead, you can almost see Jesus with a wry
smile on his face, shaking his head and saying, “Martha, Martha, you are
anxious and worried about many things…”
As Jesus reminds Martha, so
he reminds me. Often, like Martha, I am so
wrapped up in my busy-ness – even my supposedly virtuous busy-ness – that I
lose the whole point of virtue. Instead
of living virtuously out of love, I live virtuously out of duty and
obligation. Instead of virtue filling me
with peace, it fills me with anxiety – am I doing enough; why isn’t anyone
helping me; is anybody out there noticing how darn hard I’m working, how darn
good I’m being? Instead of virtue
leading me to God, virtue turns me into myself and away from God. It seems I’ve done a miracle, but not a good miracle
– I’ve turned virtue into vice.
Jesus tells Martha, as he
tells me: take a breath, come to quiet, come to me. By stilling myself and putting myself in the
presence of Jesus – even if for only ten or fifteen minutes every day – I can
put my busy-ness in the proper perspective.
I can keep the love that Christ has for me at top of mind, such that
this love becomes my impetus and my motivation to love others as He loves me.
This is the better part
that Jesus points out to Martha and me. Only
in this way, can my busy-ness make any sense.
Only in this way, can I stop being anxious and worried about many
things. Only in this way, can I realize
the peace that Jesus offers.
No comments:
Post a Comment