The Better Part (Reflections on Pentecost 9, Year C)

If I do say so myself, my wife is an excellent hostess. She knows how to set a table and make hors d’oeuvres and create an elegant environment when we have guests in our home. She really gives it a lot of thought and prepares well in advance. She always has some wine and snack food on hand just in case one of our neighbors drops in unexpectedly.

Of the two of us, my bride is definitely the “Martha” character from this week’s Gospel lesson in the RCL (Luke 10:38-42). Me? I’m the “Mary.” I’m the one who sits down with the guests and chatters away while my poor spouse is still slaving in the kitchen, shooting me arch glances which unmistakably say, “When are you going to get off your butt and come help me..?!”

I’ll admit it’s pretty unfair. She does all the work and I garner all the enjoyment. Don’t get me wrong: I appreciate all of the elegance which my beloved puts into entertaining our guests, but I sometimes think that all the effort which goes into good hospitality draws us away from the reason why we invited folks over in the first place. Don’t we just want to enjoy their company? Don’t we just want some time for some human interaction, to hear their stories, to be drawn deeper into their experiences, and to share a little of our own?

In the world and culture of this Gospel text, good hospitality was certainly expected. Look at the companion text from the Hebrew scriptures (Genesis 18:1-10a). Abraham practically writes the book on being a good host. He sees three wayfarers coming across the desert. The Bible never tells us whether he knows they’re God in Trinity or angels or what. I don’t think it matters to Abraham. Travelers across the dry wilderness will be tired, hungry, and thirsty. At several points in his life, Abraham was just like them. He entreats them to stop, promises them a snack, and then goes and prepares a huge feast for them (Okay. He actually has Sarah and one of the slaves prepare it. Typical dude. He makes the Little Woman do all the heavy lifting while he kicks back and shoots the bull with the guys.) In response to his mercy and kindness, he and Sarah are promised a child.

If she was inspired by the example of her ancestor Abraham, Martha must’ve been stoked to have the rabbi Jesus as a guest in her home. I imagine she cleaned the place from top to bottom, busted out the good china, and started cooking while the rooster was still snoring. She was making so much fuss for Jesus that she had no time to experience Jesus. Sure, she couldn’t do enough for him, but there’s a big difference between doing for someone and being with someone.

When I visit people in my parish, they often offer me something to eat or drink. I appreciate this, but it means that part of the visit is going to be spent with my host in the kitchen occupied with food prep. There’s one elderly couple I see regularly who I don’t think have ever offered me anything, but whose company and conversation I enjoy immensely. They make me feel at home just by showing that they’re glad I came.

Sometimes we get so busy doing church that we forget to be church. Yeah, it’s important that we discuss our budget and fund-raisers and property issues and event planning. I get that. But aren’t all of these issue secondary to hearing God’s word and experiencing Christ? Yes, the books must be balanced and the roof must be repaired, but why? The purpose of all of this is so we can be in relationship with Jesus.

Doesn’t your soul ever thirst for some good, human contact? Have you ever longed to ponder the ultimate questions of faith with someone with whom you feel emotionally safe?

There are a lot of great things about belonging to a church, but the better part is always meeting Christ—in the word, in the sacraments, and in each other.

God’s peace, my friends. Thanks again for visiting. I hope I’ve been a good host.