Both/And

Sermon preached Sunday, July 17, 2022, the Sixth Sunday after Pentecost, at Lutheran Church of Our Saviour in Chesterfield, VA. 

There are certain stories, certain characters that capture our imagination. Think about some of the most popular TV shows and how people identify with the main characters. We watch the Golden Girls and decide if we are a Blanche, Dorothy, Rose or Sophia. We talk about Friends and know exactly who in our own circle of friends is Ross, Rachel, Joey, Chandler, Monica or Phoebe. Whenever stories strike a chord with us, we can’t help but see ourselves in them, or try to figure out where we might fit in.

It’s no different when we read the Bible, especially with familiar stories like this morning’s reading about Mary and Martha. These two sisters are painted as opposites: the sister who does the “better” thing, who sits at the feet of Jesus to learn—and the sister who is preoccupied with doing the seemingly unimportant things like cooking and taking care of the household. It gets set up as a competition, as a comparison between these two.

I have a problem with that, mostly because, depending on my mood, I feel pretty definitively like Mary or like Martha. On days when I feel like I’m the only one doing anything, I definitely feel like Martha. It’s like when I was a kid and my mom would ask me and my brother and sister to do something…but I would end up being the only one cleaning or setting the table while the two of them pretended not to hear or would continually call out, “I’ll be there in a minute!” Of course, I was never the one slacking off… But I’m sure you’ve experienced that, too, right? It’s the self-righteous feeling of “it’s not fair!” So, when we hear Martha say to Jesus, “Tell her then to help me,” it’s not hard to identify with her.

But then there are other days when I am completely cheering for Mary. Mary should have been in the kitchen with Martha according to the customs of the day. The place at the teacher’s feet, the place for learning about matters of the faith—this was a place for the men. The women were to prepare food and attend to the needs of the men. Instead, Mary realizes the import of this moment and flouts convention to listen to Christ. So, I must admit that there is a large part of me that cheers her on for going against these gendered, societal expectations.

Mary or Martha? Mary vs. Martha. Who do we support? Who comes out on top? They are always presented against each other instead of complementing each other.

It’s natural, isn’t it? This is what we do all the time. We are always putting ourselves in competitions with other people to see who gets the most praise, who has the most prominent position, who is paid the most. Our entire lives become about being the best or, if not the best, then at least better than someone else. It’s exhausting, constantly trying to figure out how to get the upper hand or be held in higher regard.

Life is not designed to be a competition and perhaps this morning’s story can help us understand that. I believe that it is not an either/or scenario. Both Mary and Martha’s parts are important. Taking care of the household is an important and valued task: the Bible has many stories that highlight the value of hospitality—just take a look at this morning’s reading from Genesis! Taking time to learn and listen to God is also vital. We need work and rest; we need caring for others and reflection and care for ourselves.

The same sort of thing is evidenced in our own lives. Depending on the hour, the day, the week, different attitudes are needed, and different things take our focus. Sometimes, that means we are doing a lot of tasks, checking things off a to-do box in our jobs, our families, or in our communities. Other times, that means we slow down a bit, set about listening and growing and learning…taking time to be still and pay close attention to what God might be doing.

A colleague of mine shared a story about Vacation Bible School at her church this. As the pastor, she wasn’t completely hands-on in the process, but was still present and helped to tell the Bible Stories each day. To be honest, VBS is not one of her gifts. She has two kids and loves them dearly, but she finds her comfort level much more in working with adults, or even in silent meditation or study. The noise and chaos of kids running around drains her. Her typical mode of operating is not better or worse than that of the many volunteers who absolutely love VBS. We need both: we need people who can’t wait to be in the middle of a group of excited kids and we need people who operate differently, who can teach us and lead us into more contemplative pursuits.

In the reading from Luke, Jesus says that Mary has chosen “the better part.” Yes, it might be the better part, but I don’t think it is necessarily the better part for all time. Maybe it’s not about one thing being better than the other—maybe it’s about knowing what the right thing is at the right time. In fact, the original language doesn’t make this a comparison—it’s not about “better” or “worse.” Instead, it simply states that Mary chose the “good” part.

When I look at everything going on in the world around us, I am struck by the variety of ways we are called to respond.

We hear news of terrorist attacks. Wars. Shootings. An ongoing pandemic. Refugees struggling to find their way to a new home. Contaminated water. Shortages of food. Corrupt officials and politicians. Targeting of public servants. Unjust systems. One can’t go too long without seeing something that calls for us to be Martha—something that calls for us to get to work.

That work might be advocating with our local or national government. It may be donating our time or resources to a worthy cause. It might be protesting behaviors or policies that are unfair. It may even be as simple as talking to our neighbors to find ways to come together and find common ground. There are lots of “Martha” things we can do and “Martha” things that we are called to do as followers of Christ.

But we’re also called, as those same followers of Christ, to find time to be Mary. Sometimes the most important thing we can do is sit at the feet of Jesus to learn, to pray, to listen. This is what we do on a Sunday morning. We come here to hear the word of God for our lives. We worship and praise God. We share this wonderful meal together of the body and blood of Christ. We connect with our brothers and sisters and remind ourselves of our identity in Christ through our baptism. This is one of the places we are able to be “Mary.”

But we cannot always be Mary: that would mean we’d spend all of our time in church or with other church people and we would miss our calling to go out into the world, to be the hands and feet of God for our neighbor. Likewise, we cannot always be Martha: we would never make it if we only spent our time hard at work. We need time to rest and be restored by Word and Sacrament and the community that bears them.

It is not a competition. It is not an either/or. It is a both/and. So, who are we in the story? Mary. Martha. Both. And. Amen.

One-on-One: The Raising of Lazarus

Sermon preached Sunday, March 29, 2020, the Fifth Sunday in Lent, streamed live from my home in Gettysburg, PA due to Covid-19.

It’s time to talk about our last one-on-one with Jesus. None of us had any idea that we would find ourselves in the middle of a global pandemic when I planned out this sermon series, but the Spirit, as always, found a way. Even in the stories of the woman at the well and the man born blind, God has had something to say to us to calm our anxieties and fears. …and today isn’t any different. In the story of Lazarus, we hear a word of hope, comfort, and resilience.

 

Truth be told, there are actually two one-on-ones here, one with Martha as Jesus arrives in town and then the brief one with Lazarus when Jesus calls him out of the tomb. In my original plans, I was going to focus on Lazarus, on the way Jesus orders, “Unbind him, and let him go.” I think it’s important to explore all the ways we are bound up in things, all the ways we are bound up in sin and how God frees us.

 

But today, I think maybe we’re all feeling a little more like Martha: grieving, confused, hurt. Why did her brother get sick and die? Why didn’t Jesus show up soon? Why didn’t Jesus prevent this from happening?

 

These are the kinds of questions we ask in crisis: where is God? Why doesn’t God act? Why do people we know and love get sick and die? The desire to answer these questions is intense and palpable…but these aren’t questions we are able to answer. Some people try. Some attempt to say that God doesn’t act because you haven’t prayed hard enough or been faithful enough. Some attempt to say that people get sick and die because something they did in their life led to it. Some attempt to say that God is actually absent, that God has abandoned us because of our sins and mistakes.

 

Let me put it plainly: those people are wrong.

 

Our beautiful world, created in perfection, has been corrupted, like everything else, by sin. And as a result, we experience disease and death. But God is never absent. God never abandons us. As we hear reports of COVID-19 patients who are unable to have any family or friends at their sides, we can be assured that God has never left them.

 

As hard as it may be to believe, God is still present and God is still working. Earlier in the week, I asked members of St. John’s on Facebook to share with me the places they’ve seen God. A compilation of the pictures will be posted soon and the pictures will get included in the May Newsletter, but it was a great exercise in trying to find the beauty and hope in a bleak and scary time. A lot of posts, including mine, had to do with nature, but there were also comments about people and pets and even a nice cup of tea!

 

God is in every healthcare professional who is making due with limited supplies and unbelievable exhaustion and stress. God is in the people whose job it is to clean and sanitize every inch and every piece of linen in our hospitals. God is in the grocery store workers who must continue to expose themselves so that we can trample over them in our attempt to get the last carton of eggs. God is in so many places and so many people who are doing their best and attempting to serve their neighbor.

 

So, if you haven’t share with me yet, where do you see God? If you’re on Facebook, post a picture. If you’re not, email me or send a card to church. Let’s help each other catch glimpses of God in the midst of what feels like a world falling apart. God will hold us together.

Amen.

Mary and Martha

Sermon preached Sunday, July 21, 2019 at St. John’s Evangelical Lutheran Church in Littlestown, PA. Audio for recent sermons can be found here.

There are certain stories, certain characters that capture our imagination. Think about some of the most popular TV shows and how people identify with the main characters. We watch the Golden Girls and decide if we are a Blanche, Dorothy, Rose or Sophia. We talk about Friends and know exactly who in our own circle of friends is Ross, Rachel, Joey, Chandler, Monica or Phoebe. Whenever stories strike a chord with us, we can’t help but see ourselves in them, or try to figure out where we might fit in.

It’s no different when we read the Bible, especially with familiar stories like this morning’s reading about Mary and Martha. These two sisters are painted as opposites: the sister who does the “better” thing, who sits at the feet of Jesus to learn—and the sister who is preoccupied with doing the seemingly unimportant things like cooking and taking care of the household. It gets set up as a competition, as a comparison between these two.

I have a problem with that, mostly because, depending on my mood, I feel pretty definitively like Mary or like Martha. On days when I feel like I’m the only one doing anything, I definitely feel like Martha. It’s like when I was a kid and my mom would ask me and my brother and sister to do something…but I would end up being the only one cleaning or setting the table while the two of them pretended not to hear or would continually call out, “I’ll be there in a minute!” Of course, I was never the one slacking off… But I’m sure you’ve experienced that, too, right? It’s the self-righteous feeling of “it’s not fair!” So, when we hear Martha say to Jesus, “Tell her then to help me,” it’s not hard to identify with her.

But then there are other days when I am completely cheering for Mary. Mary should have been in the kitchen with Martha according to the customs of the day. The place at the teacher’s feet, the place for learning about matters of the faith—this was a place for the men. The women were to prepare food and attend to the needs of the men. Instead, Mary realizes the import of this moment and flouts convention to listen to Christ. So, I must admit that there is a large part of me that cheers her on for going against these gendered, societal expectations.

Mary or Martha? Mary vs. Martha. Who do we support? Who comes out on top? They are always presented against each other instead of complementing each other.

It’s natural, isn’t it? This is what we do all the time. We are always putting ourselves in competitions with other people to see who gets the most praise, who has the most prominent position, who is paid the most. Our entire lives become about being the best or, if not the best, then at least better than someone else. It’s exhausting, constantly trying to figure out how to get the upper hand or be held in higher regard.

Life is not designed to be a competition and perhaps this morning’s story can help us understand that. I believe that it is not an either/or scenario. Both Mary and Martha’s parts are important. Taking care of the household is an important and valued task: the Bible has many stories that highlight the value of hospitality. Taking time to learn and listen to God is also vital. We need work and rest; we need caring for others and reflection and care for ourselves.

The same sort of thing is evidenced in our own lives. Depending on the hour, the day, the week, different attitudes are needed, and different things take our focus. Sometimes, that means we are doing a lot of tasks, checking things off a to-do box in our jobs, our families, or in our communities. Other times, that means we slow down a bit, set about listening and growing and learning…taking time to be still and pay close attention to what God might be doing.

A colleague of mine shared a story about Vacation Bible School at her church this. As the pastor, she wasn’t completely hands-on in the process, but was still present and helped to tell the Bible Stories each day. To be honest, VBS is not one of her gifts. She has two kids and loves them dearly, but she finds her comfort level much more in working with adults, or even in silent meditation or study. The noise and chaos of kids running around drains her. Her typical mode of operating is not better or worse than that of the many volunteers who absolutely love VBS. We need both: we need people who can’t wait to be in the middle of a group of excited kids and we need people who operate differently, who can teach us and lead us into more contemplative pursuits.

In the reading from Luke, Jesus says that Mary has chosen “the better part.” Yes, it might be the better part, but I don’t think it is necessarily the better part for all time. Maybe it’s not about one thing being better than the other—maybe it’s about knowing what the right thing is at the right time. In fact, the original language doesn’t make this a comparison—it’s not about “better” or “worse.” Instead, it simply states that Mary chose the “good” part.

When I look at everything going on in the world around us, I am struck by the variety of ways we are called to respond. Every week, it seems as if we are faced with another tragedy. I don’t know that they are happening more frequently, but our world is so connected, it seems like we know so much more of what goes on almost instantaneously.

We hear news of terrorist attacks. Attempted coups. Outbreaks of disease. Refugees struggling to find their way to a new home. Contaminated water. Shortages of food. Corrupt officials and politicians. Targeting of public servants. Racist, sexist, homophobic, xenophobic, or otherwise unjust systems. One can’t go too long without seeing something that calls for us to be Martha—something that calls for us to get to work.

That work might be advocating with our local or national government. It may be donating our time or resources to a worthy cause. It might be protesting behaviors or policies that are unfair. It may even be as simple as talking to our neighbors to find ways to come together and find common ground. There are lots of “Martha” things we can do and “Martha” things that we are called to do as followers of Christ.

But we’re also called, as those same followers of Christ, to find time to be Mary. Sometimes the most important thing we can do is sit at the feet of Jesus to learn, to pray, to listen. This is what we do on a Sunday morning. We come here to hear the word of God for our lives. We worship and praise God. We share this wonderful meal together of the body and blood of Christ. We connect with our brothers and sisters and remind ourselves of our identity in Christ through our baptism. This is one of the places we are able to be “Mary.”

But we cannot always be Mary: that would mean we’d spend all of our time in church or with other church people and we would miss our calling to go out into the world, to be the hands and feet of God for our neighbor. Likewise, we cannot always be Martha: we would never make it if we only spent our time hard at work. We need time to rest and be restored by Word and Sacrament and the community that bears them.

It is not a competition. It is not an either/or. It is a both/and. So, who are we in the story? Mary. Martha. Both. And. Amen.

Leave Her Alone

Sermon preached Sunday, April 7, 2019, the Fifth Sunday in Lent, at St. John’s Evangelical Lutheran Church in Littlestown, PA. 

Have you seen the news lately about the Fisher-Price Rock ‘n’ Play? It was reported this week that, tragically, 10 children have died in the past four years while in the Rock ‘n’ Play. In every case, the Rock ‘n’ Play wasn’t used in the way it was intended, either the infant was older than recommended, could already roll over, or was not properly restrained. And, in every case, it is still incredibly sad and heartbreaking that those little lives were lost so early.

A friend of mine posted a picture of her daughter yesterday in one of those very same Rock ‘n’ Plays because she was offering up just the cutest smile you’d ever seen. Instead of folks just embracing the cuteness, this friend was flooded with messages about the recent Rock ‘n’ Play news, implying or even stating explicitly that she shouldn’t use it with her daughter. Her response was that every piece of furniture or baby equipment can be dangerous if not used properly and that she and her husband followed the appropriate guidelines and were always in the same room. Basically, it was just another example of people finding a way to tell someone that what they are doing is wrong, to shame them when, in fact, they are truly doing their best and doing all the right things.

I share this story with you because our Gospel reading today features a woman being shamed in a very prominent way. Picture this night, if you will. There are rumors everywhere that the religious leaders are plotting against Jesus. The next day, Jesus will go to Jerusalem and be welcomed by shouts of “Hosanna!” Within a week, Jesus will be crucified and buried. Anointed with a different kind of oil and perfume for his burial.

It is in this context that Mary, a friend of Jesus (along with her sister Martha and brother Lazarus), chooses to spend what money she had on expensive perfume to anoint Jesus. Judas, we know, is not happy. He declares, “Why was this perfume not sold for three hundred denarii and the money given to the poor?” Another way to hear this question, “Why is she not doing what I think she should be doing? Why is she behaving outside of my own comfort zone?”

I need to acknowledge something here before continuing on: we know that Judas is not concerned for the poor, but for the money he could potentially take from the common purse. This usually causes us to ignore what he’s saying because his motivations aren’t altruistic. The truth of the matter is, though, he makes an argument that could be made pretty often. Why spend money on anything that isn’t going to either our base survival or to serve others? Why buy a nice bottle of wine for a special occasion? Why buy an expensive gift for your spouse’s birthday? Why throw a big party to welcome home a friend who was deployed overseas?

Jesus’ words are not a cop-out. When he says, “You always have the poor with you, but you do not always have me,” he is not saying that we can ignore the poor because they’ll always be there anyway. Instead, I think he’s saying that there, unfortunately, will always be opportunities to serve our neighbor. Sometimes, though, we don’t need practical.

After all, God doesn’t love us with a rationed, practical love—God loves us with an abundant, extravagant, reckless love that is akin to buying a costly perfume to anoint our feet with it. And if that is the love that God shows us, it is good and appropriate to show our own love for God and the ones we love with the same extravagance. That means that sometimes we buy the expensive wine or throw the big party. It might also mean that sometimes in addition to donating money or food or clothes to a shelter or other charity, we might also give ice cream, or toys at Christmas, or something else fun.

All of this is to say that Mary gets it. Mary understands that Jesus is facing danger up ahead. She wants to show her love and her devotion for Jesus by doing something extravagant and, in the opinion of Judas, wasteful. She buys this perfume of pure nard, anoints Jesus’ feet and wipes them with her hair and is almost immediately shamed for her actions. It is quick and it is pointed and it is made to sound reasonable when it’s not—which is the hallmark of any quality shaming.

Shame can be a really powerful thing. Women are shamed. Men are shamed. Children are shamed. People are shamed for all the ways they are not “enough.” A woman might not be “enough” because she falls somewhere on either side of being “appropriately feminine”—she might be too girly or not quite girly enough. A man can face the same sort of shaming if he is seen as either too sensitive or as the manly dumb-jock stereotype. Kids might be shamed for not liking the “cool” hobbies or not playing sports, or for not being smart, or for being too smart, or for being friends with the kid nobody else likes, or for accidently doing something wrong to a class pet, or…or…or… Shame can be aimed at anyone, any gender, any age, any position.

Shame can be incredibly harmful. It can cause someone to question their own identity and sense of self. It can lead someone to feel as though they are an imposter. It can cause someone to behave in a way that is antithetical to who they are—and that’s why it’s so good to read what happens when Judas is attempting to shame Mary. “Why was this perfume not sold for three hundred denarii and the money given to the poor?” Judas asks. “Why, Jesus, are you allowing this woman to have such a flagrant display of love and adoration?” What does Jesus say? “Leave her alone.” I love that. So Simple. “Leave her alone.”

How incredible would it be if, every time someone attempted to shame us, we remembered Jesus saying, “leave her alone?” If someone says that you aren’t enough of a woman because you don’t have kids: “Leave her alone.” If someone says that you aren’t enough of a man because you don’t like sports: “Leave him alone.” If someone says you’re not enough of a Christian because you don’t have as many Bible verses memorized as they do: “Leave them alone.” Jesus is with us, constantly, every day to reassure us that we are enough as we are and to remind us that although people might try, we cannot be shamed for being who we are.

And what’s more: there will be times when we are called and moved to do something others won’t understand, something that might even seem wasteful or extravagant or strange or silly. But when those actions are born out of our faith or come from a place of worshipful action, there is no one who truly has the power to shame us. Jesus is always saying, “Leave my children alone.”

Amen.