16th Sunday of Ordinary Time (C): Luke 10:38-42
Mary has chosen the better part, and it will not be taken from her. – Luke 10:42
This Sunday’s Gospel is very brief. It tells its story in just a few lines. Yet, this short story has made many people uncomfortable through the centuries, as it makes us uncomfortable now. We naturally relate to Martha, who is busy with all the practical details of hospitality. We feel for her plight, and we are puzzled and irritated by Jesus’ response to her – a response that seems to favor her sister Mary, who – to our eyes – appears to be doing nothing of any practical worth.
Adding to our reaction is the memory of centuries of tradition where this story was understood as being a teaching of Jesus that the contemplative life (represented by Mary) is superior to the active life (represented by Martha). This also stings many of us, as we have been taught by our culture to base our self-worth on what we do, what we achieve, what our practical worth is. Moreover, with our instinct for equality, we instinctively balk at the idea that one kind of life (the contemplative) is superior to another (the active). That notion seems “undemocratic” or “non-inclusive” to us.
Are we being honest with ourselves here? Are we objecting because we believe that both ways of life are equal, or because we really believe that the active life is, in fact, superior to the contemplative life? We praise people who get things done. We do not often praise people who attend to their relationships with God or other people. We accept contemplatives as “them”, as people on the margins, believing that “those who can’t do, pray”. If one of “us” gets the idea that she or he is called to the contemplative life, we are not so tolerant or open.
Let me illustrate this by using a Biblical story that Bishop Robert Barron uses to explore this point. It is taken from Exodus 17. Moses is leading Israel through the wilderness of Sinai. Israel is attacked by the Amalekites. Moses stands on a hill, overlooking the battle, with hands upraised in prayer. His arms are supported by Aaron and Hur. As long as Moses’ hands are uplifted, Israel has the better of the fight.
We Americans would be inclined to ask why Moses wasn’t down there, fighting with the Israelite soldiers. We have a hard time to see that Moses is, in fact, fighting, just as Aaron and Hur are, just as much as the solders below are. Each is fighting in the way God has called him to do. The battle is won only when each person can live their vocation in the way God has called them to do.
It’s not a matter of one calling or way of life being superior to the other. It’s a matter of allowing the Lord to be the Lord. It is He who gives each their calling. It is He who builds up His people. It is He who gives each their role in the Kingdom.
Now, perhaps, we can look at the story of Martha and Mary with new eyes. Martha was fulfilling all the tasks of hospitality. Few virtues were considered as better or more vital in the ancient Middle East than hospitality. Martha is fulfilling her calling. But what Martha cannot see is how Mary is putting herself on the line in order to respond to the Lord’s calling to her. Everyone around Mary would have agreed with Martha. Mary’s place was in the kitchen. Only men in that culture sat at the feet of a rabbi or teacher. Yet Mary found the courage to respond to the Lord’s call, to sit at His feet, and hear His word, whatever others might say or do around her. This was not a rejection of Martha or hospitality; it was an affirmation that nothing was more important than attending to the Lord and hearing His word. Everyone needs to hear this. Everyone needs to do this. Mary’s special calling was to witness to that truth in a radical way, so that everyone else would be challenged to do the same in their lives. Mary was called to break social convention so that everyone could see how central it is to stop and hear the word of the Lord. Mary was living out a prophetic calling on behalf of everyone around her. She had been so overwhelmed by the love of the Lord that she could do nothing less and nothing else than what she did, regardless of the consequences.
Lest anyone imagine that Mary was getting away with anything, ask yourself what likely happened after Jesus left. How was Mary treated by Martha and other relatives and neighbors? Was she praised for what she did, or was she seen as an embarrassment, a troublemaker, lazy, or a failure? Was it not likely the latter? Even now, in the Church, do we not have a tendency to reject those who follow the Lord’s call in a radical or unusual way while they live, but then praise them after they die? By the way, look at our liturgical calendar. Does St. Mary of Bethany have a feast day? St. Martha does. Why not St. Mary?
Many of you may see yourselves in Martha; perhaps some of you, once in a while, can see yourselves in Mary. I do. Just as Mary, as a woman, was not supposed to sit at the feet of Jesus and hear His words, so I, as a diocesan priest, am not supposed to have a vocation to the contemplative or the hermit life. So I was told. Apparently, the Lord was not allowed to give me such a calling. However, God, being the Lord of all vocations – and being an irrepressible instigator – couldn’t help breaking this “law” and gave me this wondrous calling anyway. Having tasted it and experienced its beauty, I cannot do otherwise than what I am doing, regardless of the consequences.
And there are consequences. I am not loved or valued by my superiors for this calling. A few of my brother priests do respect and value this calling; others, even a few that I believed were friends of mine, scarcely look at me. This is the main reason why I do not go to diocesan events. It’s too painful. If they could only see what I see, perhaps they, too, would value it and love it. Not love it more than other people’s callings, but as much as other people’s callings. I do not see myself as superior to anyone for having my call-within-a-call. But I am not inferior to anyone, either, for that same reason. You say your yes to God; I say mine. On this level, we are the same.
The point is that if God has called you to something, and you say yes to it, that calling is just as good and as necessary as anyone else’s in God’s sight. Not better. Not worse. Just as good. One day, perhaps, we as a Church will see this. One day, perhaps, we will honor and treasure every loving heart who steps forward with much courage to say yes to the Lord’s call – and not merely the ones whose callings appear “practical” to us now.
After all, isn’t the Lord… the Lord? Is He not “the better part”? Is He not worth it all – and more?