Now it came to pass, as they went, that he entered into a certain village: and a certain woman named Martha received him into her house. And she had a sister called Mary, which also sat at Jesus’ feet, and heard his word.
But Martha was cumbered about much serving, and came to him, and said, Lord, dost thou not care that my sister hath left me to serve alone? bid her therefore that she help me.
And Jesus answered and said unto her, Martha, Martha, thou art careful and troubled about many things: But one thing is needful: and Mary hath chosen that good part, which shall not be taken away from her.
If I am ever given the privilege of meeting Martha, I’ll probably break into tears and possibly feel tempted to kneel. I love her with my whole soul.
This one is for all the Marthas.
Dear Martha,
First, I’m sorry. We haven’t done right by you. Somehow we’ve judged you by 30 short words, as if anyone would ever want their entire life defined based on two sentences. We quickly forget you were feeding people. Serving others. Nourishing. That’s clearly something you were good at. “Cumbered about much serving” wasn’t just something you did, it was what you were.
What had that day been like for you, the day He came to dinner? Did you know He was coming? We’re told that you, your sister Mary, and your brother Lazarus shared a close relationship with Jesus, which meant you probably knew what He liked to eat. And if you were like most hostesses, this wasn’t just about what you would prepare for a meal. It was also about which dishes to use; making sure the linens were cleaned and pressed; the house was clean; and many other details that a woman like you would have had to give attention to. Simply put, you were likely in a state of anxious fretting, wanting everything to be just so.
I’ve had sufficient experiences with other Marthas to know you were also probably wondering if what you had prepared for Him was “good enough.” The Greek interpretation of the word “careful” in verse 41 is “worried.” Of course you were! Who wouldn’t be worried? Who wouldn’t be thinking “Did I add enough spice to that dish? Is the wine the best available? I forgot to dust the tables!,” and a hundred other things. This is what Marthas do. They bring their best to the table, so to speak. In this case, literally.
So, let’s talk about The Moment. You know the one. You’re moving around the room, checking how close the food is to being ready (“I should have started it sooner!”), glancing into cups to make sure everyone has enough, all the while watching your sister Mary just sit there. How could she not notice you were needing her help? Yes, He was there. No doubt you wished you could be sitting with Him too. Was He recounting miraculous healings, or sharing tender moments of ministering to the countless sheep in need of a shepherd, or giving Mary precious personal counsel? I imagine you were in conflict about whether or not to say something to her. From the two accounts that mention you in the scriptures, you appear to have been a very straight-forward, no-nonsense person. Thus your question to Him makes perfect sense to me.
“Lord, dost thou not care that my sister hath left me to serve alone? bid her therefore that she help me.”
Because He knew you so well, I think His response to your question is deeper than it might initially appear. Was He just referring to Mary not helping you serve a meal when He replied “Martha, Martha, thou are careful and troubled about many things,” or was there more to His words? I think so. Jesus was always about doing His Father’s “business.” And in this moment you were the “business.” He was loving you for all your mortal Martha-ness while also reminding you what you in your worry may have momentarily forgotten: He was your Savior, your Healer, your Consolation just as much as He was Mary’s. And dear Martha, your “mortal moment” is a gift that keeps on giving. In my own “careful and troubled” moments, remembering that you wanted what was right, even if your way of getting there was not-quite-right. Yet one more reason to love you.
For me, beloved Martha, your defining moment was not this one. It would come later, on one of the hardest days of your life, the moment of your brother Lazarus’s death. In your deepest grief, you instinctively rushed to Jesus before He had even arrived at the tomb.
John 11
20 Then Martha, as soon as she heard that Jesus was coming, went and met him: but Mary sat still in the house.
21 Then said Martha unto Jesus, Lord, if thou hadst been here, my brother had not died.
22 But I know, that even now, whatsoever thou wilt ask of God, God will give it thee.
You knew what Source to turn to when no other could console. You knew Who the “resurrection, and the life” was, even before He would be placed in His own temporary tomb. Your witness of Jesus as the Savior of the World, spoken out of a pure and guileless heart, penetrates my soul each time I read it.
v. 27 Yea, Lord: I believe that thou art the Christ, the Son of God, which should come into the world.
Martha, Martha, your light shines on. You DID choose the good part. You chose Him, again and again—even when others turned against Him. Although you are not mentioned by name as one of the woman who witnessed His crucifixion and who later helped prepare His lifeless body for burial, it seems unlikely you were not involved, no doubt with a broken heart. But that wouldn’t have kept you from being there for your friend Jesus. “Being cumbered about much serving” is what Marthas do. It’s how you lived. It’s who you were.
If I could be as true a friend to Him as you were, I could ask for nothing more.
With love,
A fellow seeker
Being thankful for the blessings we receive isn’t too hard. But what about gratitude for the things we suffer? Do we appreciate being told “no” or “not right now”? There’s a verse in scripture that invites us to “receive all things with thankfulness” that can feel daunting at times. Next week I explore those moments when we don’t get what we ask for and why being grateful for hardship can lead to deeper discipleship. I hope you’ll join me.
I’m a Martha through and through. It’s easy to feel condemned for being so careful and troubled . I think of it often like not knowing which part is mine. This is a reminder that He loves me for it and continues to invite me to quite literally put down my load and sit with Him.