Worship is at the heart of who we are.

Sermon for the 6th Sunday after Pentecost

Text: Luke 10:38-42

Today’s Gospel lesson from Luke is a familiar and often frustrating passage for many of us—

especially those of us who find ourselves busy, who find our value in doing, who take pride in

our to-do lists and our full calendars. (check, check, check, check)

Martha welcomes Jesus into her home. She opens the door. She says yes to hospitality. And yet,

within minutes of Jesus’ arrival, she’s upset—frustrated by her sister, flustered by the workload,

and perhaps, a little disillusioned with Jesus himself.

“Lord, do you not care?” she says. It’s a raw and honest question. One I’m willing to bet many of

us have asked in our own hearts: Do you not care, God? Do you not see the load I’m carrying?

Do you not notice that I’m trying to keep this house, this family, this life, this ministry afloat?

And Jesus’ response has long been misinterpreted. He says, “Martha, Martha, you are worried

and distracted by many things, but few things are needed—indeed only one. Mary has chosen the

better part, which will not be taken away from her.”

Let’s be clear. Jesus does not scold Martha. He does not reject her offering or dismiss her as

unfaithful. He speaks to her as one who is anxious and distracted, pulled in many directions. The

Greek word used here—periespato—means to be “dragged around” or “pulled apart.” It’s the

feeling of being fragmented. Torn between responsibilities, expectations, perhaps even the desire

to be enough in a world that keeps demanding more.

Now, this story is placed intentionally right after the Parable of the Good Samaritan in Luke’s

Gospel—where love of neighbor is described not in theory, but in action. Go and do, Jesus says.

Bind wounds. Lift up the broken. Pay their bills. Don’t just welcome but help them flourish. Act.

And then, in the very next breath, we get this story—one that says: sit. Listen. Be still. Pay

attention to the presence of Christ.

Although it may appear as if these stories are in contradiction - I would say they are not...They

are the rhythm of discipleship. Action and contemplation. Justice and prayer. Service and

stillness. Both are vital. Both are faithful. Both are what we are called to.

But let’s return to Martha and Mary.

Historically, some theologian have idealized Mary—the quiet, contemplative woman who sits

submissively at Jesus’ feet. And Martha has been minimized—the frazzled woman who gets it

wrong.

But, I want us to look at this text through a different lens.

To sit at the feet of a rabbi, as Mary does, was not a passive act. It was the posture of a disciple.

It was a bold move—especially for a woman in first-century Palestine. Mary was taking up space

in the room where the teaching was happening. And Jesus not only allows it—he affirms it.

In that moment, Jesus breaks the expectations of the culture, of the household, and of the

religious structure by saying, “She has chosen the better part, and it will not be taken from her.”

So, what if.......What if Jesus is not comparing Martha to Mary? What if this isn’t about

condemning one way of being? What if he’s inviting Martha into a freedom, that she has never

imagined was hers?

Jesus sees Martha. He sees her distress, her overextension, her exhaustion. And he names it.

"You are worried and distracted." But he doesn't shame her. ADHD

He doesn't say stop working or stop serving. He says: come here, come back to center. Come

back to what matters. Come sit down. Let your belovedness be the starting place—not your

usefulness.

You see, this isn't a story about one sibling getting it right and the other wrong. It’s about the

tension we all live in. The deep human need to do something—to serve, to prove, to fix—and the

even deeper invitation to be with—to listen, to rest, to receive.

It is easy—to be like Martha? Distracted, busy, anxious. And not for bad reasons. Maybe we’re

tending to our homes, or signing our youth up for activities, or planning for next month, or

navigating a dozen different meetings or committees...

We are a Martha people in a Martha world. We measure our days by productivity and our worth

by what we offer.

But Jesus says: That’s not where your worth begins.

Your value is not in how much you do, or how productive you are, but in who you are—and in

your capacity to be, to listen, to remain rooted in love.

So, that also means that Mary chooses the “better part” not because she’s lazy, but because she

resists the societal and familial pressure to hustle. She resists the demand to earn her place at the

table or at Jesus’ feet. She knows she belongs. And Jesus protects that belonging.

I want us to not hear Jesus’ words as a critique today, but as a re-centering. An invitation to

Martha to remember that she too is welcome to sit down. To rest. To listen. To be nourished.

It is a holy thing to serve the meal.

But it is also holy thing to sit and feast on the Word of God.

And in Christ’s kingdom, there is room—and need—for both.

For all of us.

So this week, if you feel like Martha—running around trying to hold it all together—hear this -

You are seen.

You are beloved.

And it’s okay to sit down.

It is okay to step back.

It is okay to rest.

And if you find yourself unable to do so - know that that doesn’t change your belovedness, or

your ability to be a disciple.

You are beloved, not because of what you can accomplish - whether that’s busy work or sitting

still, you are beloved because God in Christ has made is so.

And yet, my prayer for us, especially in this season, is that when we lose ourselves to anxiety

and endless work, that Jesus will whisper a bit louder, through our family, our friends, or

neighbors, reminding us to, “Come sit, Come listen. Let your heart be fed to.”

Today, we honor both the Marthas and the Marys.

And we are reminded, that we are called to serve, as well as rest in the truth that we are loved,

even when we do absolutely nothing at all.

Thanks be to God. Amen.

- Pastor Minna Bothwell