Faith: Remember that focusing on the Lord is feast enough

“Hey, why do I have to do all the work?”

If you had parents who cared about teaching their kids to work and who thought that a good place to start would be with some assigned tasks around the house, you’ve probably uttered the complaint above.

It’s also more than possible that one of your siblings might have lodged such a complaint to the parental “powers that be” while rather obviously scowling in your direction. Isn’t it amazing how even little children come equipped with a highly developed sense of justice and fair play?

By the time my younger brother and I came along, Mom and Dad had already practiced parenting on three much older siblings. I’m not sure what the policy on “allowances” was with the older bunch, but I can’t imagine our parents ever believing that children should get any coins at all just for breathing.

At some point, Mom created a chart listing tasks to be done by the family’s two late-arriving offspring. Stick-on stars were affixed to the various squares on the chart when the tasks were completed. Want your allowance? Finish your work.

I admit some bias, but it seems clear to me that I worked hardest. An almost overly conscientious child, I’m sure I felt duty-bound to be diligent. I’m pretty sure my brother’s conscience in that regard was a good deal more flexible. I’m also sure that his obvious tendency to “fidget” would preclude much focus on any one task for very long. So, imagine coming from my lips the whiny sentence above.

Maybe this little snapshot of human nature is why so many of us resonate with the account in the Gospel of Luke, Chapter Ten.

Jesus and his disciples have entered the village of Bethany, not far from Jerusalem, and have been welcomed into the home of the sisters, Martha and Mary, and their brother Lazarus. They were listening to Jesus teach, and Mary, spellbound, was hanging on every word. Martha was also amazed, but flies were buzzing around her head.

OK, maybe not literal flies. But the King James Version says that Martha was “cumbered about much serving.” Cumbered indeed! To her, the need to deal right now with a few dozen tasks in the kitchen was obvious. Equally obvious to her was that her sister Mary was oblivious.

If the house had been equipped with a security camera, I’d love to have viewed the video of the moment Martha sidled up to Jesus, frowned, and complained, “Lord, don’t you care that my sister is shirking the work, and I’m doing it all? Tell her to help me!” Is that not a frame filled with the ring of truth and focused on real human nature?

But I ask, do you remember any occasion when Jesus was willing to sustain a grumbler’s grumble and didn’t “turn the tables” on them, shifting the focus?

And I wonder, do you identify more with Martha or with Mary? Oh, I confess that my personality is much more in tune with Martha’s. The same sorts of flies are always abuzz around my head reminding me, maddeningly, about a thousand tasks that need to be done. And who, pray tell, will do them if I don’t? I’ll even lodge a complaint: “Lord, does this seem fair to you? Would it really hurt the ‘spiritual’ folks to do a little real work?”

But on this occasion, Jesus answers, basically, “Martha, stop and breathe. Chill a bit. You’re worried about so much. But you’ll have plenty of chances to cook and clean when I’m not here. You’re distraught about what’s happening in the kitchen, but today Mary has chosen the best part, ‘the main course.’”

(That last, from The Message.)

For good or ill, my first reaction probably always will be a word or two in defense of Martha. Christ obviously loves both sisters, but Martha needed a reminder. On that day, she needed to be still, listen to the Lord, and know that focusing on him is feast enough.

I need the same lesson. But I still think I did more work than my brother.  

Curtis Shelburne writes about faith for The Eastern New Mexico News. Contact him at:

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