For many of you, this may be a familiar story.  It’s a story that echoes well with our own lives today as we still argue in our families over who is going to set the table, who will clear it and who loads the dishwasher when the meal is all over.  It was a very familiar scene when I was growing up.

We can also easily place ourselves in this story, either as Martha, doing all the things in the background and only sitting down to eat a few bites of the meal before the meal is over.  Or perhaps you see yourself as Jesus, as the one to whom is given the attention in the group: the wise and witty one that everyone listens to.  Or perhaps you see yourself as Mary: the quiet one who listens at the table. You see the others doing the work, but you simply decide to sit.  And learn.

A few weeks ago, Rick Barger, a Lutheran pastor, came and spent time with our Transition Team and Session members. He has written a book about the realities and struggles of the church in our times and has a vibrant church in California.

The rich conversation that night has a lot to do with Mary and Martha. Within this dialogue about who we, as Broadstreeters, want to be as the church at this time and in this place, he posed this question to those gathered there: Who would Broad Street Presbyterian Church be apart from what they do?

We do a lot here.  We have amazing—and I mean amazing outreach programs—both locally and globally, and strong education, neighborhood development, advocating public policy, community organizing, never mind the hundreds of thousands of dollars that comes to this church because you believe it can do amazing work—work done in honor and in praise of God.

But let me go back to the question: Who would Broad Street Presbyterian Church be apart from what you do?  I don’t think that it is an easy question to answer.  I want to sit with it a while this morning. The text today touches on something to do with how we go about answering it. 

I know, and you all know, that our culture resembles much of what Martha is living in the story. She is busy getting things ready, serving, taking care of and striving to do her best. We are busy, too.  Our lives are jam-packed and we are overwhelmed.  Luckily, most of here can afford to go on vacation for at least a week out of the year, but somehow we usually all need more rest, more time to rejuvenate even after the vacation is over.  Most of the time we don’t get enough sleep.  We volunteer for too many things, whether in the community, at our kids’ schools or at church.  We do too much, because in doing, the world affirms us because that is the way it is set-up.  The American way tells us that we are to work hard. When we are overloaded, it means we are doing it right. Even those of us who are “retired” still manage to fill up our lives with activities, volunteering and work. 

For a few decades now, scholars and practical theologians have been writing on our addiction to work and staying busy.  They write that we are simply overloaded.  The spiritual discipline of silence, solitude and rest are not a part of American repertoire.  Mary reminds us today by her actions, and Jesus tells us today that sitting at Jesus’ feet is the better way. 

Not that all of life needs be sat at Jesus feet; obviously not.  The tension of action or doing and reflection in our lives, particularly in the life of faith, is ridiculously hard in our culture.  “Life comes at you fast”—says Nationwide Insurance slogan.  We are supposed to be ready for it and somehow in all of our activities we try to be. 

Martha was trying to tell Jesus that Mary needed to get to work.  She needed to help.  She was being lazy.  She wasn’t carrying her load.  Jesus told Martha that Mary has chosen the better way.  She was sitting.  Resting. Listening to Jesus—the Source of life.

Henri Nouwen, a Catholic priest and prolific writer, has inspired many in the world, myself included, with his ability to talk about why we need to sit at Jesus’ feet in our day and age: We are God’s beloved.  This is the central truth of our lives as Christians. We are loved without doing anything.  By the very breath we breathe—God loves us simply as we are—without doing anything. That’s grace. Jesus came to do what we can’t do. We can’t redeem ourselves and we won’t ever get done what needs to be done because it’s impossible. Only Jesus has done the impossible.  He saved us all and given us a new life without our having to do anything.

In the following words from Nouwen, he talks about the disciplines necessary to be a disciple of Christ. The one I think Mary was embodying in this story is solitude, or simply being with the self in order to be with God.  Hear his words:

“Solitude is being with God and God alone. Is there any space for that in your life? ...It’s important because it’s the place in which you can listen to the voice of the One who calls you beloved. To pray is to listen to the One who calls you “my beloved daughter.” To pray is to let that voice speak to the center of your being, to your guts, and let the voice resound in your whole being.

There are many other voices speaking—loudly: ‘Prove that you are beloved.’ ‘Prove you’re worth something.’ ‘Prove you have any contribution to make.’ ‘Do something relevant.’ ‘Be sure to make a name for yourself.’

…You have to pray. You have to listen to the voice who calls you the beloved, because otherwise you will run around begging for affirmation, for praise, for success. And then you’re not free.

It is not easy to sit and trust that in solitude God will speak to you—not as a magical voice but that [God] will let you know something gradually over the years. And in that word from God you will find the inner place from which to live your life.”[1]

Where do we sit?  Are we a church centered in our belovedness, knowing that God loves us, or are we a people that goes around begging for affirmation because we have forgotten to sit with Jesus and remember that we are loved as we are—simply as we are.

Henri Nouwen isn’t the only one who has written about this.  Our contemplative brothers and sisters across all religious traditions are realizing the necessity of the contemplative life, of taking time away from the business to meditate and reflect.  Many argue that our own inability to know and touch the battles and stresses that go on within ourselves is precisely the reason we cannot deal with the wars, violence and injustice in the world.  Silence and solitude allow us to see the war within us. Thich Nhat Hanh, a Zen Buddhist monk, exiled from Vietnam and human rights advocate has written for years on what we in the Christian tradition see as important, too. Hear his words:

“Violence is never far. It is possible to identify the seeds of violence in our everyday thoughts, speech and action. We can find these seeds in our own minds, in our attitudes and in our fears and anxieties about ourselves and others.  …Stopping the war in our minds and in our hearts, we will surely know how to stop the war outside.”[2]

So how do we stop them? How we stop doing and living trying to prove to ourselves and to others that we are valuable, that we are worth something and that we are special? Sit at the feet of Jesus, friends.  Sit at his feet.  Find space to remember and recall who you are—before you were even born.  Trust that your identity is bound to the source of all life, Jesus Christ, an identity that is found in God’s love for you. And that is enough. It is the space from which all of life should be lived.  Take time—time that is so precious to care for yourself. To allow yourselves to remember how much God loves you and that really—that is what is the meaning and point of all of this.

Surely we all know that solitude is simply one spiritual discipline among many that allow us to know that we are God’s children and that God loves us.  Solitude is simply one in our culture of workaholics that we need to revive us. The psalm that Anna read reminds us that creation speaks to us, God speaks to us through the Word, God speaks to us through the least of these, the marginalized, where we meet Jesus face to face.

If we return to our question that Rick Barger posed: What are we beyond what we do? May we simply be reminded that we are the beloved, who are with Jesus, sitting at his feet seeking to be faithful.

Friends, may we see Mary as our teacher and become more balanced in our lives and in this culture…that then we may seek the peace with justice that God call us to bring. We can’t do it if all we are doing is doing.  We need time to be. We must leave behind what we think is important and allow God’s love to enfold us and give us strength.

And let’s not forget the goodness of simply being.  Of Being with God—the one who has created us, loves us and cares for us.  Spending time in solitude with God should never be another chore. Being with God allows our souls rest because we don’t have to prove anything. The God we worship who moves us and carries us through life’s hardships and life’s joys.  The God who when we are quiet enough, tells us that we are loved. And that is the source of life abundant.

Property of the Broad Street Presbyterian Church

Contact the  church to obtain reprint permission