8/30/20 “Rethinking Martha and Mary” by Nancy E. Petty

Luke 10:38-42

“There are moments which mark your life. Moments when you realize nothing will ever be the same and time is divided into two parts – before this, and after this.” This line from the film, Fallen has stayed with me since the first time I heard it. It is true: we mark our lives by defining moments, and in those moments we are keenly aware that everything changes and nothing is ever the same again. A birth of a child or sibling, a death of a grandparent of parent, high school or college graduation, a divorce, a marriage, an illness. I will often hear someone say, “After I left home.” Or “Before I graduated school.” Or “After I got married.” Or “After my dog died.” And now, a familiar one, “Before COVID…” These defining moments mark life for us: the before this, and after this. As I look back over my life there are a number of these defining moments, but possibly none of them hold more significance as a turning point in my life than watching the video of police officer Derek Chauvin, pressing his knee on the neck of George Floyd, ignoring Floyd’s pleas that he couldn’t breathe, until there was no life left in George Floyd. I knew in that moment watching that video that, for me, nothing would ever be the same and time would forever be divided into two parts – before this video, and after this video. Before the police killing of George Floyd and after. Before a man who is vested to serve and protect placed his knee on the throat of another human being and pressed until all life was gone, and after.

It shouldn’t have taken me so long to have this defining moment, especially living in America. After all, police brutality against Black and Brown people has been happening for centuries in this country; but in the age of social media and hand-held devices it is impossible to not see firsthand the violence and injustice perpetrated against people of color. In the last five years, the names Eric Garner, Janisha Fonville, Freddie Gray, Michelle Cusseaux, Alton Sterling, Philandro Castille, Botham Jean, Stephon Clark, Aura, Rosser, Atatiana Jefferson, and Breonna Taylor have become household names of lives snuffed out by police brutality. And before these it was Trayvon Martin, Tamir Rice, and Rodney King. Any answer I would offer as to why George Floyd’s death was the defining moment that woke me fully up to police brutality against black and brown bodies would only show my white privilege. But seeing that officer hold his knee on George Floyd’s neck as he pleaded for his life to no avail became a defining moment for me. The day I watched that video I made a commitment to do something – to do more to fight racial injustice. Watching that video and in the days after, I felt a sense of urgency that I had to do more to fight the injustice. I had to elevate my game in righting the systems and institutions that have for centuries put in place racist policies that allowed these killings to take place. I had to be doing something and it felt urgent.

So, I decided I would start by asking the Pullen staff to read with me Ibram Kendi’s book, “How to Become An Antiracist.” Some of them might say that I didn’t ask, that I just announced we would be reading the book together. And they might be a little bit right. And although my invitation came out as more a requirement, the staff were willing and eager to join in. And so, for the past 4 weeks on Tuesday mornings, with the guidance of an outside facilitator, we, as a staff have read and discussed Kendi’s book and engaged in conversations about antiracism beyond the book discussion. This past week, the facilitator began our session with a series of three questions. The very first question was this: “Having finished the book and knowing what we know about race, how does this make you feel or what does it make you worry about yourself?” We were given an index card to write our response to the question.

As I began to write, it was like my hand went into autopilot. I wrote: “It makes me feel like I’m not doing enough. I’m not doing enough to let go of my white privilege and stand against racism. What if what I am doing is the wrong thing to do? I feel like I’m going to mess up and say the wrong thing or do the wrong thing. It makes me feel that I need to do something and at the same time I feel so inadequate.” That’s what I wrote on my card to question #1. I put pen down and wondered how I would ever get through questions 2 and 3.

I hear it a lot from concerned allies: I feel like I’m not doing enough. As our facilitator read all of our responses anonymously, this expression of feeling like I’m not/we’re not doing enough was a common thread. For those who care about racial equality and the pervasive racism rampant in our nation right now, it feels like we are not doing enough. And yet, the other side of that feeling is the feeling of being anxious to the point of paralysis from worrying that we are doing the wrong thing – that we will miss the one thing that really matters.

Later, as I was reflecting on my “question #1 experience,” I realized that I was suffering from The Martha Effect. We are told in this morning’s text that Jesus showed up at Martha’s house, and that she took her role as hostess seriously! Like all guests, he needed food, he needed care, he needed her attention. And Martha got busy doing. She cleaned the house. She got a fresh bucket of water for Jesus to wash his dusty feet. She gathered clean towels for him to use. She went to the market and got food to prepare. She prepared a meal. The story says she attended to the many tasks at hand. I am sure there was all the more urgency and pressure on Martha to make things comfortable because it was him – Jesus himself! Martha is the biblical shorthand for those of us who respond to opportunity by getting busy. In my case, there is this thing in front of me – racism – that I know I need to respond to, that needs my attention and devotion, that demands my doing and my acting. So I get busy, going from one protest to the next. I get busy planning vigils. I busy myself with books. I attend all the Zoom meetings about racism and being antiracist. And like Martha judging Mary, I get quite frustrated that more people are not in the streets marching or attending vigils or on the Zoom meetings figuring out what we need to be busy with next.

Now you might be expecting me to shift here and say that we don’t need to be about all this doing, and being worried and distracted by the many things like protesting and vigil-ing and zoom meetings and reading books and marching in the streets. That what we really need to be about is what I will call The Mary Effect. Sitting down at the feet of our teachers and listening. Tending to, as Jesus says, the one thing that is really needed – the better part – which Mary has chosen. Well, I’m not going to say that, because I think Jesus and the church have used Martha and Mary to set up a false dichotomy that is, just that, a false dichotomy. The false dichotomy between doing and being. We don’t have time or the luxury to pit doing against being or being against doing in the work of becoming antiracist and working to tear down the racist systems in this nation that are killing black, brown, indigenous and low-wealth people: over-policing, poverty from wealth inequality, war economy and militarism, ecological devastation, voter suppression policies, and the denying of fundamental constitutional rights. And honestly, if Jesus was among us right now, my guess is he would be teaching down on Fayetteville Street, so if we are going to claim the Mary spot in this current day drama, we don’t get to do that from our sofa or even our prayer cushion.

If we want to bring about the kingdom, the reign that Jesus built his reputation on, then we need to rethink the Martha and Mary story; and we need to rethink, and maybe even reframe, what Jesus said to Martha. What if we refuse the either/or. What if when Jesus arrived at the home of Martha and Mary someone would have said, “Hey everyone, there is a lot that needs doing and I know we all want to sit down with our brother Jesus, so let’s work together to get dinner on the table and take care of all our domestic needs so that we can all sit down and spend some time together and hear what Jesus has to say to us.” What if what was really required in that moment and is required in this moment we are in is for everyone to work together to both get the tasks done and to sit together to listen to our teachers and to one another? I think the important lesson in this Martha and Mary story is in the discernment of knowing when to get busy and when to sit down – for God knows kingdom requires both our doing and our being. The danger is to give into the false dichotomy of choosing between doing and being. Somehow, my friends, we have to learn how to meld together the essence and spirit of Martha and Mary – not pit them against one another. We have to learn how to manage our dueling halves and embrace the both/and of being and doing. We will continue to feel like we are not doing enough while we stay frantically busy doing too much. As Greg Moore sang so beautifully a few weeks ago, do it anyway. And we will wrestle with internal feelings of inadequacy while still answering the call to show up. Do it anyway. And we will judge others and ourselves for not getting it right. Do it anyway. And in the midst of all that doing, be humble, be open, be willing to learn from the spirit of Jesus who is weaving in and through these teachings, these protests, and these times. 

I chose this story of Martha and Mary for my sermon text today for two reasons. First, because Martha and Mary was battling within me this week and my hunch is that some of you might be experiencing the same. But I also chose it to honor Brooks Wicker. Our dear friend, faithful disciple and beloved Pullenite Brooks has lived day in and day out in the fire of both/and when it comes to being and doing. For years, long before she was our Church Administrator, Brooks has been about doing the work to build God’s kingdom here on earth. She unselfishly gives of her time and resources to build the beloved community. For the past 7 years she has gone about “doing the house chores of this church” so that all of us can do our work to feed the hungry, clothe the naked, welcome the stranger, offer hospitality, and gather for fellowship and worship. She has marched for justice, she has helped planned and prepare and participated in vigil after vigil. She has been busy doing. And, all the while, she has sat beside us in worship, at Wednesday night programs, on zoom meetings and in Sunday school classes just being, learning from our teachers and wisdom leaders as we discern the Spirit leading among us. She has, in ways unknown to most of us, held us together in our doing and in our being. And today, as she officially retires as our Church Administrator and returns to the pew, we offer our gratitude for her and her witness among us.

Brooks for the gift you are and the gifts you give to this church, for showing us how to embrace both the Martha and Mary within us – the doing and the being – we say thanks be to God.

Right now, our world needs both Martha and Mary. God’s kingdom needs for all of us to be about the doing and the being. May we continue to have the courage to discern when we need to put on our marching shoes and get busy and when we need to sit our bodies down and just listen.