38 Now as they went on their way, he entered a certain village where a woman named Martha welcomed him. 39 She had a sister named Mary, who sat at Jesus’s feet and listened to what he was saying. 40 But Martha was distracted by her many tasks, so she came to him and asked, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself? Tell her, then, to help me.” 41 But the Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things, 42 but few things are needed—indeed only one. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her.”
Luke 10:38-42
My sermon from the 6th Sunday after Pentecost (July 20, 2025) on Luke 10:38-42.
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Two Saturdays ago, Oliver and I headed to the NJ Expo Center in Edison for this year’s Collect-a-con. Collect-a-con is a traveling Pokemon and Anime convention where people meet all kinds of artists, actors, and youtube streamers while buying and selling all kinds of little pieces of shiny cardboard. Since this was my first time attending the convention and there weren’t any special guests we wanted an autograph from, I figured we’d miss any line if we arrived an hour after the doors officially opened. This, though, was a mistake and when we neared the convention hall, the line of cars stretched far and wide. We decided to go the last mile by foot and so I stashed the car in a random parking lot. We weaved through busy streets, around busy warehouses, and through a dirt lot for overflow convention parking that looked like a Tetris game gone horribly wrong. As we drew closer to the expo building, we stumbled onto a line that was slowly moving forward. There was no signage or staff telling us this was how we’d get into the show but since the line was full of kids dressed in Charizard pajamas and adults wearing pirate costumes with wide brim straw hats, I figured this was it. It wasn’t long before the line stretched hundreds of people behind me and every time a new person took their place in the line, they made the “i-can’t-believe-this-is-the-line” face and heavy sigh. There was grumbling; there was complaining; and some folks even got mad at their friends for making them late. I assumed waiting in this line on this summer day would make the whole experience very painful. But then – something strange happened. I could feel – and I could sense all the frustration and annoyance; all the weeping and gnashing of teeth went away as people sort of accepted their fate. People began to laugh, joke, and share their water with complete strangers as the sun beat down. Even when the line became very weird as it zigged-zagged along walls and around semi-trucks parked in the expo center’s loading dock, no one tried to cut the line or acted as if they were entitled to being in front of everyone else. Instead this large group of kids, adults, grandparents, Evees, and Pikachus stayed fully present since they were where they were supposed to be.
Now the story I read from the gospel according to Luke wasn’t very long but its words, especially if you have sisters or siblings, spoke volumes. Jesus, after sending his disciples out two by two to visit places he planned to go to, arrived in a village where a woman named Martha offered him hospitality. Hospitality is, in the words of Rev. Dr. Niveen Sarras, “allowing the guest to share the sacredness of the family space.” Martha knew this would include providing Jesus food, drink, and a place for him to stay. And while most of us can manage, to some degree, offering hospitality to one person who shows up at our door; the Jesus who showed up to her home came with a crowd. When Jesus shows up, an entire community comes too which can overwhelm the best of our intentions. There are those among us who make being a host appear effortless and we, as a culture, often train women to show hospitality even if that isn’t one of their gifts from God. Yet Martha refused to act as if this work doesn’t require an incredible amount of intentionally, energy, resources, and time. As she managed the flow of food and drink from kitchen to table, the busyness of welcoming others made the whole experience feel a little less peaceful than what we assume Jesus’ presence brings to our lives. And while she did what needed to be done, Martha noticed how her sister Mary wasn’t participating in the work of welcome. Mary was, instead, sitting at Jesus’ feet. That doesn’t mean, however, that Mary was being lazy since sitting at someone’s feet was one of the ways folks in the ancient world described students who were busy learning from their teachers. Mary, according to Luke, had become like all the other disciples and apostles Jesus brought into that space. While she grew in her own identity as a follower of Jesus Christ, Martha noticed something strange. The one who was supposed to be helping her in the work of welcome would need to be welcomed instead. Mary, from Martha’s perspective, had given up on the offering of hospitality which is why Martha embraced the ancient art of trying to use indirect speech to get her way. But Jesus, rather than pushing Mary out of the work she was currently doing, invited Martha to pause and embrace the hospitality the Son of God had already extended to her.
This is different, I think, than Jesus telling us to do less and listen more. There was, after all, a crowd of people still in Martha’s home who needed to be taken care of and included. Making the effort to faithfully prioritize what is life giving to us and others rather than getting consumed by all we feel compelled to do is holy and important work. But how to do that isn’t easy since we – and everyone around us – have different ideas about what should come first. I wonder, though, if Jesus was inviting Martha to reflect on the point of holy hospitality in the first place. The work she was doing wasn’t meant to be – nor should ever have been – something the rest of us asked her to do. Rather, the welcome we give is a reflection of the welcome we’ve received by the One who came to us in the first place. The work of hospitality didn’t begin when Martha noticed Jesus and his entourage were nearing the village. The welcome had already started since God chose to come to her in the life she was already living. We can assume, I think, that Martha’s life didn’t necessarily follow the script everyone assumed it would. Luke, after all, identified her household as belonging to her which was a bit different in a world where property and relationships were defined through someone’s closest male relative. We can imagine Martha as an independent woman with the resources, time, talents, and energy to throw an itinerant preacher and his entire fanbase an amazing dinner party. Martha’s life was – and would continue to be – complicated, rich, and unexpected. Yet it was Jesus who chose to walk through her front door, accept her hospitality, and welcome her sister as the disciple he knew she could be. It wasn’t all the doing that made Jesus and God’s kingdom real in Martha’s world. Instead, Jesus had already chosen her – and her community – to be part of what God was doing in the world. That doesn’t mean the work of welcome is unnecessary or less important than sitting at someone’s feet while everyone else takes care of what needs to be done, Rather, the welcome we live out is something we get to do because, in baptism and faith, God has already welcomed you. You are, even now, with – and where – you’re supposed to be. You are already wrapped up in a love and care that extends beyond the multitude of ways we often choose busyness instead of faithfulness, mercy, care, and peace. That means, I think, that those who do welcome without ever embracing being welcomed are free to pause, reflect, and realize the love God has for them. And for those who’ve been told the work of hospitality is something only other people do, we are now free to do our part to make everyone around us feel as if they truly belong. Trusting we really are where we’re supposed to be is not, necessarily, merely accepting our life as it currently is. Rather, it’s about leaning into the relationship we already have with the One who has claimed us as his own. God’s willingness to welcome us is why we get to welcome, include, serve, and love everyone even when those around us tell us that we shouldn’t. And when life traps us in a line that zigs and zags and feels like it might never end, we can remember that we are – even now – where we’re supposed to be with the God who will never let us go.
Amen.