This past Thursday I had the joy of hosting a retreat for other young clergy women here at the church. We are all members of an organization called “Young Clergy Women International”, which is an ecumenical group for Christian clergy women under the age of 40. Most of our interactions take place through Facebook, with various subgroups where women offer advice, share resources, commiserate, celebrate, and pray for one another. Pre-Covid, there was always an annual conference, but in these days it felt too challenging to try to plan a large multi-day event, so the organization opted for an online event, with satellite locations in the US, Canada, and Europe.
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| Bird image traced from YCWI Conference logo, words from the conference liturgy Prayer of the Day, written by Barn Geese Worship |
On the day of the event, I could relate to a little of what Martha was feeling in today’s Gospel story. I was excited, and also wanted to be a good hostess. I rushed around getting ready, feeling a bit worried and distracted as I wondered whether or not I had chosen snacks that everyone would like, and if the art project I wanted to add in would go smoothly, and if the technology would cooperate. I fretted about how few people had signed up, and wondered if I should have done more to reach out to local colleagues and friends. I felt distracted by news of an important pastoral care update, and by the weight of everything else I was setting aside in order to participate in the retreat for the whole day.
After greeting everyone and getting settled, one of the first things we did was worship together. The five of us pulled chairs into a semi-circle in front of the altar, and took turns leading different portions of the liturgy. Together, we read the confession, which included the following: “Jesus...we have tried to die to your work as though our sacrifice could save the world. We confess that we equate strength with flawlessness. We confess the exhaustion in our spirits and the bitterness clenched in our hearts. We can picture the people we struggle to forgive. At times we even resent you. You never ask us to match your goodness. But even when we give everything we still wonder if we should have done more.” [Liturgy written by the good folks at Barn Geese Worship]
Ouch. It was a pinch, for sure, but also? I felt so seen. I needed to be called out for being worried and distracted by many things; needed the reminder that there is need of only one thing - Jesus. Jesus’s presence, Jesus’s work, Jesus’s grace. In my worry and distraction, I was missing the gift of grace that was right in front of me - time apart with dear colleagues, and being fed spiritually and emotionally by powerful worship, thoughtful keynotes, joyful conversation and laughter.
I wonder if the words of this confession would strike a similar chord for Martha. Every time I hear this Gospel story, I picture her rolling her eyes and muttering about her clueless and lazy sister, passive-aggressively slamming cabinet doors and loudly crashing pots and pans onto the stove. When Martha finally comes out of the kitchen, convinced of her own rightness, she goes not to Mary, to ask for help, but to Jesus, hoping for a pat on the back and perhaps even (please!) a scathing rebuke of her sister. “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself? Tell her then to help me.”
Perhaps, like me, you also cringe when you hear this line, because the mirror it turns toward our own behavior and anxieties displays too clear a picture. How often we are like this - resentful, jealous, hurt, and so distracted by other things that we lose sight of the most important thing – Jesus’s presence among us.
How renewing it could be for Martha to join her sister at Jesus’s feet to rest, and listen. To hear stories about his travels and ministry, to have the scriptures opened in new ways, to be reminded of God’s grace, and love, and faithfulness. Jesus knows Martha needs this, and gently re-orients her attention with his words. "Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her."
Now, we don’t hear what happens next, but I kind of hope that Martha just sank down right there with the apron still tied around her waist. Maybe Mary silently got up to bring her a drink of water, then settled back in alongside her sister to linger in Jesus’s loving, challenging words - in Jesus’s very presence - as the sun faded below the horizon.
Jesus knows we need this, too. Jesus knows we need time for renewal, time to set aside distractions, time to be nourished and soothed and energized by the living Word. Perhaps you already have this time set aside, with an intentional, focused practice of music or movement, art or writing, reading or listening. As you've embraced this rhythm, it’s likely that you sometimes have to say “no” to some things in order to say “yes” to this time. And, it may be that it helps to have someone else to walk alongside you, to give a gentle nudge to reorient and refocus. But however it comes, what a gift it is that when we are worried and distracted, minds going in a hundred different directions, hearts bubbling with resentment or sadness or worry, we can find grounding in the steady presence of the one who calls us by name and surrounds us with grace.
What good news it is that in the midst of change and uncertainty, amid distractions and anxiety, Jesus’ presence is always with us, whether we are focused on it or not. This is the promise we receive at baptism – that we are called Children of God, that we are forgiven and loved, and that nothing can separate us from this love or from God’s presence with us. No matter how many things creep up to worry and distract us – whether it be the news, or health challenges, family tensions, relationships, work, school, anything at all – Jesus is always there, calling us back to the better part, the promise of his continued presence with us. For this promise, and for this presence, we give thanks.
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