Truly God and TRULY man

July 10, 2015

Truly God and TRULY man

There are three stories of Martha and Mary in the gospels. There is one in Luke 10. (Listen below.) And there are two in John – 11 & 12. And in all of them, Mary is just the sort of fey (meaning faux-unworldly) teacher’s pet that when I when I was a kid gave me the creeps.

    Look at the stories. The two from John:

P. P. Rubens pic

In the first, Jesus is coming to Bethany, because his friend Lazarus, the brother of Martha and Mary, has died. And he comes despite the danger: Bethany is not far from Jerusalem, where he has enemies who have already tried to stone him, the story tells us, and who will crucify him. He comes because
he loves Martha and Mary and Lazarus.

     As soon as she hears he is on his way, Martha goes out to meet him.  But Mary’s too delicate, too broke up, too whatever she is,
to come, too.  Martha has to go back and tell her what you think she’d know already: “Jesus wants to see you.”  Then, for reasons I certainly don’t comprehend, Jesus seems gladder to see Mary than Martha.

In the second story, after Lazarus has been raised and is well enough to sit down to a

meal (prepared, we must assume, by Martha), it is Mary that anoints Jesus’ feet and wipes them with her hair.  It is a beautiful thing, no doubt, but isn’t it just a little over the top?

     We only hesitate to ask that because that’s pretty much Judas’ point, and we do not want to be associated with him. But put him and hesitation aside for one minute: Isn’t it just a little much? It’s not just Judas that thinks so. At the least, Martha must be shaking her head, if only on the inside so it won’t be seen. A little much – the way her dress slips off her shoulder and down . . .  (Look at the photograph Rubens took. What is James looking at? Why does Peter put on his glasses?) A little much.

That brings us to the story from Luke, when Jesus stops by the house – which is Martha’s – because she has invited him for a meal. It follows the parable of the Good Samaritan, which doesn't have anything to do with any of this.* From the TRV (Ted Riich Version):

From there, Jesus and his disciples went on their way and came to a village, where he knew people. One of them, Martha, invited him for lunch.

     Martha had a sister, Mary, who welcomed Jesus into the house as if it were hers not her sister’s and then sat down with him to listen to him talk. This added to Martha’s distractions, getting everything ready to put lunch on the table, one that would be worthy of the rabbi. And why did Mary sit just there? – not because it was the best place to hear but because there (she knew) the light would catch her hair just so.

     Finally, Martha could stand it no longer. She came out of the kitchen. “Teacher,” she said. “Could I borrow my sister for a few minutes?”

     “Why?” he said, and her sister’s face echoed “Why?” adding feigned innocence. Maybe he really couldn’t see why - probably not, men are such dopes - but she could.

     Martha bit her tongue, shook her head. “Men are such dopes,” she thought again, “not least rabbis, who think anyone not talking is listening to them.”

______________

*Unless it also has to do with empathy, about which I promised a word or two. That involves, or calls for, I’ve been at least implying (here and here), putting ourselves in another’s feet (in both the current and Old Testament sense of the word), imagining what they are feeling or will feel. Paul has no empathy for married persons (1 Corinthians 7), because he has no experience with marriage, and he can’t think outside his own experience. God can’t predict what effect Eve will have on Adam, because God knows no more about married love than his Apostle does; besides God doesn't have genitals. 
     Those that empathize with Martha in the story from Luke do so, because they (we) know she has every right to feel sorry for herself, so do we.