William Yagel
Grace Radford
July 17, 2022
Proper 11, Year C
O God, here I am, a single entity bearing the cares of many on my shoulders.
Help me to continue to be a source of light for them by your spirit.
Keep me from being weary.
Help me to continue to remember that your grace is sufficient.
Continue to light my path
And
Help me in all things not to rely on my own insight but to trust in you with all my heart, for you will direct my path.
Amen
This prayer was written by Ms. Debra Q. Bennett and is from a collection called “Women’s uncommon Prayers”. Fitting, I think, for our Gospel this morning.
Remember three weeks back, my first Sunday here. We heard in Luke that Jesus turned his face to Jerusalem. We are still in the travel narrative from Luke where Jesus is making his way to Jerusalem. He has set his face on Jerusalem. He has set his face on the cross. That is the only explanation. It is the only reason I can find to explain Jesus’ behavior. I mean, I don’t think he is pulling a prank on the Martha and Mary, and the commentaries don’t indicate any play on words here. So, all I can figure is that he must have been tired. I mean, he would have to have been exhausted to make such a mistake. I mean, I learned from my dear old friends Hurst and Hugh Kelley, a loooong time ago-never take sides when siblings are fighting! Right! Just sit back and eat your popcorn, but never ever register an opinion, lest you quickly become the enemy of both!
But really, I doubt I am the only one who finds this passage about Martha and Mary a little odd? It feels like Jesus is saying that the efforts by Marth to provide hospitality are less important than Mary’s sitting around. A real kick in the teeth for any of us who have worked tirelessly to provide for guests only to be told that it doesn’t matter. What does this possibly mean? Surely, we all know how wonderful it is to feel well received. To feel that genuine sense of welcome of which food, drink, and entertainment are a natural extension, but which never feel like an obligation.
The Yiddish word for this is Haimish. In August of 2011 David Brooks, Opinion writer for the New York Times, reflected thoughtfully on this concept after his family took a trip to Kenya and Tanzania. He spoke of haimish existing as a line. An invisible barrier that he crossed as he went from camp to camp on his trip.
He would go to more elegant camps where everything was perfect. The food was well prepared, all the amenities were clean and available, staff would wait on you for what you needed then disappear as soon as they were finished. Basically, the Western notion of fine service that one might see at high end resorts in the states. Maybe even what we would epitomize as the ideal--everything attended to, nothing out of place. Everything is picture perfect, except that it is hollow and impersonal.
Brooks noted that in the simpler camps dinner tables were larger and the group of travelers and the staff got to know each other. I imagine food was generous and thoughtful, but I would guess far from “fine dining”. The servers and wait staff would interact with the guests. He told of one man who took he and his 12-year-old on a “mock hunt” around the ravines and hills near camp, showing that boy a memory that would last a lifetime. At another camp they had spear throwing and archery competitions with the kitchen staff. Rich and full experiences where the welcome actually says “we are glad you’re here”.
When traveling from one camp to another he noted that he would cross the haimish line, or maybe it is better to say he would see a spectrum of haimish? Haimish means warm, relaxed, and unpretentious. So, the more elegant camps had all of the bells and whistles, but none of the heart. None of the affection, hospitality, and welcome that the simpler camps seemed to come by naturally.
I wonder if Mary and Martha knew the term. I should note here that theologians agree that Mary and Martha from this story only appear here in the Synoptic Gospels. In the Gospel of John, they appear again and have a brother Lazarus whose name you might recognize. The vast majority of theologians agree that this is not Mary Magdalene, in case you were wondering…
Mary is sitting at Jesus’ feet, listening to him talk. As theologian NT Wright points out, this is significant in and of itself, and it is important not to miss what is going on here. Mary is not presented as an adoring fan who is fawning over Jesus. Neither is she being lazy to avoid work. Mary is doing an entire other thing. This notion of sitting at the foot of a teacher implies that Mary was a student of Jesus. She was sitting so that she could learn and then go out and teach herself! Do not miss this piece of the reading today. Historians and theologians tell us, with little surprise, that this was not normal for women of that time. Segregation of the genders was expected, and to be in that position Mary was taking a real risk. By all counts, anyone who was there besides Jesus likely agreed with Martha! This was not her place, she could not be a teacher, she needed to go, to tend to the work of hospitality.
But, it appears, Jesus was an early feminist! He challenged the norms of the day by insisting that she stay. Jesus had a habit of doing that, still does. And so in keeping with that, Jesus asserts not just that Mary can stay. Not just that he will entertain her presence this one time. No, Jesus asserts that Mary has chosen the better part. He values Mary’s behavior over that of Martha. BUT, I don’t think we should hear in this a chastising of those who would feed and care for their guests. This is exactly the opposite of what is going on.
It seems that Mary did know the word Haimish, or at the very least, she knew the concept. But unlike Martha’s hospitality that was busy and maybe more of an obligation, Mary’s hospitality was to offer her full self. She sat and listened, she valued Jesus’ message, she was committed to his word. By her actions we see that Mary cared that Jesus’ was made welcome not simply as a man who would need to eat and to drink, but as a unique guest who she wanted to know more fully and more thoughtfully. And this was the better part.
And this is what we should mean by hospitality in the church. And I should add, that I think I may just be affirming what you here are Grace already know, based on the way my family and I have been received. But this type of hospitality necessitates a full acceptance of an individual.
This type of welcome says you,
just who you are,
just as God has known you,
just as God knit you together in your mother’s womb,
just as you walked in this morning,
are wonderfully made and you are right where you are supposed to be, and we are glad that you are! This is how we accept you and this is how we will affirm you.
And it is just this type of hospitality that we are moving toward this morning. As we prepare for Eucharist after a month’s drought, I want to tell you that this is exactly what God has done for us. We will consume bread and wine that is the most radical hospitality imaginable. It endured suffering and Death on the Cross. But in so doing, conquered death and provided a life of abundant hospitality for us. So come to the table to be welcomed, come to the table to be welcomed as you are, a beloved child of God.
Amen