Sister Sister

July 20, 2025, Saint Barnabas Lutheran Church, Howard Beach, Queens, N.Y.

Today’s Gospel (Luke 10) features two of the best known women in the New Testament: Mary and Martha.

I find it difficult to be indifferent to these women, in part because their personalities are so vividly described by the Gospel writer.

And I have personal reasons for perking up when I hear their names. My mother was named Mary. And my wife, of course, is Martha. I sometimes feel I’ve lived my life between two Jungian archetypes of virtuous womanhood. 

It’s hard to put my feelings into words, so I will turn to Sir Paul McCartney who puts these feelings – mine and his – to music.

When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me

Speaking words of wisdom, let it be

And in my hour of darkness she is standing right in front of me

Speaking words of wisdom, let it be

Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be

Whisper words of wisdom, let it be

Also:

Martha my dear,

Though I spend my days in conversation,

Please remember me.

Martha my love,

Don't forget me,

Martha my dear.

Take a good look around you,

Take a good look, you're bound to see

That you and me

Were meant to be

For each other, silly girl.

It should be noted that the Mary of Sir Paul’s song was his mother, although he has said that if people want to think he’s singing about Jesus’ mother, that’s fine with him.

And the Martha he sings to, of course, was his beloved sheepdog. But that doesn’t alter the sentiments.

What do we know about the biblical Mary and Martha, these sisters of Bethany who were both devoted to Jesus? We know that Mary sat at Jesus’ feet while Martha scurried to host the party, which probably meant prepaering the meal. And we know that Jesus told Martha she was being distracted by too many things, and “Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her.” (Lk 10:41-42)

Jennifer S. Wyant of Candler School of Theology reports a strange medieval legend about the sisters which suggests how their roles differed.

After Jesus’ resurrection, the story goes, Martha of Bethany became an itinerate missionary who went to France. She visited one hamlet that was plagued by a dragon and promptly slayed the beast. In gratitude, the village became Christians.

Mary, on the other hand, founded a monastery.

Thus, the legend declares metaphorically, Martha and Mary live into the traditional roles the church has given them. “Martha acts,” writes Wyant, “and Mary studies. Martha represents an active faith, while Mary represents a contemplative faith.”

Which is better? Action? Or Contemplation?

Years ago I was a member of a small African American Baptist Church in Conshohocken, Pennsylvania. The founding pastor, in his 90s, still presided over the congregation with humor and authority. He had two daughters in their 70s. One was the organist, the other was the head deaconess.

The deaconess was the church mom and organizer and every Sunday she would rise to explain everything the church needed to do. Sunday School literature had to be ordered. Parents had to make sure their children came to Sunday School. Teachers had to be prepared to teach. Coffee needed to be ordered. The kitchen needed napkins. The deacons needed to repair the roof. The deaconesses needed to plan for Ladies Sunday dinner …

One Sunday a young man visited the church, the type of youth whose frontal cortex was not fully developed but who never doubted he knew more than anyone else.

The young man listened to the deaconess and rose to challenge her.

“You’re being a Martha,” he scolded with brash self-assurance. “Busy, busy, busy. Take time to pray. Don’t be a Martha.”

The deaconess stared at him silently until the young man sat down. I can’t remember, 45 years on, when I have been so offended in church. How dare he? How dare he presume to instruct the venerable saints who had been doing Christ’s work decades before he was born?

And what did he mean, “don’t be a Martha”? Was that a bad thing?

God knows where the church would be without the worker bees who keep it running. Prayer and contemplation are good things, but can the church – can any institution – survive on meditation alone?

Actually, it’s a little awkward to find ourselves judging the two women, and I wonder what church folks have decided about them over the centuries. The Patriarchy would have seen immediately that Mary was assuming the more unacceptable role. The role of women in Jesus’ day, in addition to being invisible, was to run the house, cook the meals, sew the clothing, nurse and change the babies. If anything, it’s Martha who is working well within society’s expectations. Mary, sitting dreamily at a man’s feet while her sister toils at traditional women’s work, is being presumptuous at best, perhaps even arrogant.

But Jesus defends Mary and we have tended to look at Martha in the same way we look at the Prodigal Son’s older brother: hurt, jealous, resentful.

But “If we are overly critical of Martha,” says New Testament Professor Brian Peterson, “we may end up with an image of faith that never actually does anything for anyone else.”

As Mary sits at Jesus’ feet, we remember that only a week ago we were reading Jesus’ parable of the Good Samaritan. 

“The Samaritan embodies love for the neighbor; Mary embodies love for God, Peterson writes. “Both the Samaritan and Mary are socially disqualified from being models of anything good according to the norms of their culture, and yet they are both images of the kingdom which Jesus brings. Both are needed to complete the discipleship Jesus calls for: to hear God’s word and to do it (Luke 8:21). We need the ‘go and do likewise’ of Luke 10:37, and we need to remember that sitting as a disciple to hear the word of Jesus is a gift not to be neglected or taken away.”

Pastor Elizabeth Johnson of the Twin Cities, is quick to defend both sisters as doing the right and good thing. 

“The problem with Martha is not her serving, but rather that she is worried and distracted,” Johnson writes.

“Martha’s worry and distraction prevent her from being truly present with Jesus, and cause her to drive a wedge between her sister and herself, and between Jesus and herself. She has missed out on the ‘one thing needed’ for true hospitality. There is no greater hospitality than listening to your guest. How much more so when the guest is Jesus! So Jesus says that Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her.”

It seems inappropriate for us to take sides or exalt one sister over the other. Both Martha and Mary are following their best instincts. Both love Jesus and Jesus loves them both.

Jennifer Wyant writes that the story of these two sisters serves as a powerful example for disciples today. 

“It turns out that maybe Luke isn’t attempting to prioritize one act of Christian discipleship over another. Maybe instead he is presenting the idea that we can do right and good things but still be distracted by the wrong things. We can focus more on the perceived shortcomings of those around us than on our own relationship with Jesus.

“So yes, in Luke, disciples both serve and listen to the word, just as disciples today navigate both the contemplative and the active practices of faith. Sometimes we slay dragons, and sometimes we start monasteries. But Luke’s deeper concern is that our orientation be in the right place: that we focus on Jesus, and let the main thing be the main thing.”

Lord Jesus, help us focus on you and grow in your grace. Amen.