Mary and Martha

 Friends, for the next two weeks we’re taking a short break from Stump the Preacher, because there are two stories from Luke that come up in the lectionary just once every three years, that are so precious to me that when they come up I really want to lift them up for you. This is one of them. Mary and Martha.

I’m a Martha.

No question about it. And I’m not the type of person to literally believe we all fall into types, especially binary ones, and I believe that humans have the ability to grow and change from day to day, so categorizing us is hardly ever helpful, except for when this story comes up in the lectionary.

Because I’m a Martha.

I had a holy experience with this short text about a decade ago, when I was working with a spiritual director. If you’ve never done spiritual direction before, or known someone who did–imagine you and God were in couples therapy together. Actually, since Christians believe in a triune God, maybe it’s a group therapy situation. That’s spiritual direction. My spiritual director was a nun, right in the city of Rochester, and the goal of a spiritual director is to identify the clutter in your path, show you how to push it out of your way, and to get you and God face to face with one another, like you’re the leads in a really cheesy rom-com, standing at opposite ends of the beach. Then your spiritual director gets out of the way so you and God can run into each other’s arms. That might be a wacky concept for normal people, which is fine, it’s why you’re more fun at parties. But for clergy, a little spiritual direction can go a long way.

Spiritual directors have a lot of tricks in their bag to help you point out that garbage on your beach, blocking your access to God. One of them is Lectio Divina. That’s a Latin phrase that means “divine reading”, and a story like this one, that’s only 5 verses long, is perfectly suited for it. Lectio Divina takes at least two people to do, because one is a facilitator, and anyone else is a listener. The facilitator uses their William Shatner reading voice, and reads a short Bible passage veeeeery sloooooooowly, while you think about words and images that popped out for you. You sit in silence for a few minutes, reflecting on what you heard, and then the facilitator reads the passage once or twice more. As I did a Lectio Divina on this passage with my spiritual director, I was brought to tears. I imagined myself as Martha. I had a load of dishes soaking in the sink, a basket of laundry in my arms, dinner going in the oven–and y’all, this was BEFORE I had kids–and meanwhile, all the closest people in my life were Marys, sitting on their keesters in front of Jesus doing NOTHING, basking in his glow while he played guitar and they sang together, because in my imagination Jesus is the Santana of deities and always has a guitar. And, I can be happy for someone else’s nice moment with Jesus, but gosh darn it, do I have to do all the work alone? 

In my experience, my reaction to this text is not unique. Martha’s loneliness, frustration, and burn out scream through the page for all who have ears to hear, and it’s a lot of us, especially among women who are part of a church. And even though I have seen a gendered reaction to this story over the years, this isn’t a women-only thing. I’ve met plenty of men who are Marthas, as well as men who are Marys. But women like me, especially mothers, tend to take to this story kind of hard, because we’re expected to “run the house” everywhere we go, and we don’t want to admit it, but we get tired. And I get defensive of my girl Martha. Martha is the Type A personality, the gal with the to-do list, the girl boss, the chef at the restaurant. Without Martha, nothing gets done. Martha starts the projects and sees them through to completion. Martha makes sure our resources are in stock. Martha has an eye for fine detail, and makes sure nothing slips through the cracks. Except her sanity.

We often perceive Jesus’ words to Martha as criticism. “Girl, put down the laundry basket and come listen to my new cover of ‘Spirit in the Sky’.” But what if Jesus is as concerned about Martha’s burn out as I am, as I vicariously heal myself through her?

Jesus isn’t a dad, scolding Martha for not being more like her sister. What he’s telling her is that the salve for her wounds rests in collaboration. It’s not either/or, it’s both/and. Mary is Martha’s other half. Martha is the initiator and the organizer, but Mary is the visionary. Mary inspires the ideas that Martha can make a plan to implement. And Martha sees the fine details, but Mary keeps the focus on the big picture, and the final goal. Without Martha, Mary is sitting criss cross apple sauce on her butt imagining great things, but doing nothing. Without Mary, Martha is running around doing busy work like a chicken with her head cut off. But together, they stay in alignment, they balance one another, and they do great things for the world.

To really drive this point home, I’m going to tell you a story about a creative couple, a real life Mary and Martha. Now, I promise, unless you live under a rock, you have heard of these people. But you never would have if they hadn’t met each other.

Our Mary grew up in Upstate New York, not all that far from here. Her dad died when she was three years old, and she spent most of her formative years with her mom, her grandparents, and her little brother. She wanted to perform in front of people, and moved to New York City to chase her dreams of becoming an actress. But she found out quickly she didn’t fit the only mold the entertainment industry had for women. She was an uncoordinated dancer, and not much of a singer. But she was determined to make money that she could give her struggling family. So she dyed her hair blonde, and pursued some modeling, and then finally got some bit parts in movies. She had big dreams, but her talent went largely unnoticed. She was game for anything, and she was funny, but Hollywood had no use for funny women. She was a pretty blonde in a sea of pretty blondes. And once she got into her 30s, “retirement age” for pretty blonde actresses, the industry was just about ready to put her out to pasture.

Our Marys story started to change when she met her Martha. Her Martha was a man, a musician who was brought on for a background role in a movie our Mary happened to be cast in. They hit it off right away, and started dating, but onlookers thought they were an odd couple, and their relationship would only hurt both of their careers. Luckily for all of us, they didn’t listen.

Our Martha was a major task master with a photographic memory. He was criticized as a perfectionist whose temper could make him difficult to work with. But his wife, our Mary, came up with great ideas for what they could do together, starting with a vaudeville comedy act. They cofounded their own production studio. Our Martha ran a tight ship and made sure every I was dotted and every T was crossed, and supported our Mary, both logistically and musically, while her mind generated funny stories and ideas. Our Martha also helped our Mary revamp her image, and stand out. She dyed her hair bright red, because few women comedians were doing that. And then their big break came when CBS approached them, together, to play a married couple in a sitcom: I Love Lucy. And the rest is history. Lucille Ball and Desi Arnaz, our Mary and our Martha, revolutionized the television industry with their teamwork. If that kind of teamwork, a creative, visionary mind scaffolded by another’s organization, could change TV forever, just imagine what that kind of collaboration could do for the rest of the world?

While you think about this, it’s worth exploring within yourself–what gifts do you bring to the table? How do you tend to work in a bigger group setting? And is there one character here you identify with more, Mary, or Martha? Because when one or two of us try to shoulder too much on our own, we miss out on guitar playing Jesus. And when we don’t have organizational help, we get stuck on the floor with big dreams but no action. It’s when we work together, and find an appropriate role for everyone, that we stop being Mary and Martha’s dysfunctional household, and start being a church.

Amen.