Telling God What To Do

This sermon was delivered at the First Presbyterian Church in Berryville, Arkansas on the 16th Sunday of Ordinary Time, July 22, 2007.

Amos 8:1-12
Psalm 52
Colossians 1:15-28
Luke 10:38-42
May the words of my mouth and the meditations of our hearts be acceptable to you, O Lord, our rock and our redeemer. Amen

Years ago, at the Mount Comfort Presbyterian Church, an elder[1] was filling the pulpit for the regular pastor when he was on vacation. This was the children’s sermon:

He told a story of a group of children who lived by the sea in times long ago. They were finishing school for the year and if the weather was good, they were promised by their teacher that they would go to the beach at the cove for a picnic. All of the children had hoped and prayed for good weather so that they might have their picnic, but the weather that day was most foul; the rain fell in sheets, lightning lit up the cloud darkened skies, and thunder rumbled across the county. It was hardly a day for a picnic. All of the children were disappointed. Several threw tantrums that God and teacher were not able to give them their picnic.

But unbeknownst to anyone…a ship of pirates was off of the coast and had planned to come ashore and pillage the town that very day, but the severity of the storms forced them to change their plans and they never returned to that cove. And because the children’s prayers were not answered, they were able to live happily ever after.

You notice I never said it was a good children’s sermon.

As the story was told, its moral is that when we pray, we should not pray for specific things because God knows what is best. We should just pray God’s will be done and go on with the kingdom way.

I bring this up because the lesson of this children’s sermon, “while sometimes we tell God what to do—God knows what is better,” does pertain to our reading from Luke.

Jesus comes to a village where a woman named Martha opens her home to Jesus, and presumably his apostles since they traveled together. That’s right; suddenly there are thirteen fresh faces for dinner. Old TV shows and first marriages are filled with horror stories of inviting the boss home for dinner. This horror really must have been amplified when you invite the Lord and his twelve apostles home. Especially if it’s just you and your sister doing the cooking, cleaning, serving, and so on, and so on.

Martha was driven to distraction by all of the tasks required to prepare such a large dinner. Imagine the bread to be baked, the meat to be prepared—from slaughter to serving at that. Is there enough wine and cheese and fruit for such a large group of men, men who are hungry from their long travels.

So where’s her sister Mary? She is sitting at the feet of the Lord, listening, entranced by the word and wisdom that flows from his lips like the sweetest clover honey.

This is when Martha snaps “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself?” She’s asking the honored guest if he cares whether or not Mary leaves her in a lurch, shirking her responsibilities as a hostess. Never mind the scandal that any woman would be sitting at the feet of a man, much less her sister, the co-hostess. Mary has taken the place of a man and a disciple instead of taking care of her real duties.

Martha has had it up to here and exclaims, “Lord, tell her then to help me.”

Lord, I pray tell her to help me.

Lord, I pray you make the weather right for our picnic.

Is this so different from how we pray?

Lord, we pray for rain in drought stricken places.

Lord, we pray for dryness in the floods.

Lord we pray for good crops.

Lord we pray for high prices to sell the crops.

Lord we pray for reasonable prices to feed the children.

Lord we pray for the Razorbacks.

Lord, we pray for health.

Lord, we pray for long life.

Lord, we pray for wealth.

Lord we pray so—and—so gets what’s coming to him.

Lord, we pray for comfort.

Like in the children’s sermon, often when we pray, we’re telling God what to do and how to do it. But in this case it’s a little different. Martha is upset and in a fit she asks the Lord if he cares and then tells God what to do, in his native tongue. Now that takes chutzpah. I imagine Martha is fit to be tied, with steam coming out of her ears and a rising tide of red to her face as rage boils within her. She and her family’s hospitality are on the line, there are many tasks to be done, while Mary is basking in the glow of their guest instead of doing what she’s supposed to be doing. “Lord, Tell my lousy, lazy sister to get up off of her tail and come and help me.”

The Lord hears and sees what is going on and he tells her, “Martha, Martha,” yes, Jesus doubles this up for emphasis, “you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part which will not be taken away from her.” Jesus isn’t especially saying, “don’t worry, by happy,” but he is telling her to lighten up, for just a moment. He is not telling her that what she is doing is bad, or unimportant, or wrong but he is saying that what Mary is doing is better and it will never be taken from her. And he does this with the most gentle of reproaches, “you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing.”

In chemistry there’s a term, entropy. One way to explain entropy is to say that “nature leans toward disorder.”[2] My high school chemistry teacher described entropy with this illustration: If you take a jigsaw puzzle, one that has been put together, and sweep it off the table, it’s going to fall apart. Disorder. Likewise, if you take a puzzle box, and shake it up, when you open it you won’t get a picture of a bunny in the snow. Again, disorder.

Nature leans toward disorder. It is said that the vast majority of household dust is little pieces of skin cells that slough off of the inhabitants, both human and animal.[3] Disorder. The other major component is environmental, coming from soil and pollution. More disorder. When you look at a compost heap, you will see how grass clippings, leaves, and other organic things can break down and reform into something wonderful that supports life. Without this disorder, fertilizer for gardens and flower beds would have to come from more unnatural sources. Life springing from disorder.

Martha is cleaning and preparing and putting things in order for the Lord and his companions. There is so much to do that she is flustered. She is so flustered that she becomes frustrated that her sister is just sitting there. But Martha’s preparations will inevitably pass. The house will get dirty again. Martha’s work, as wonderful and glorious as it is in the kingdom of God, will pass. It will fade. It will have to be done again, and again, and again. The entropy of life will overtake the preparations for the meal. In this way, her work will be lost in the sands of time.

Mary on the other hand rests at the feet of the Lord. There she hears his teachings and gains wisdom, she rests in the love of the outstretched arms of the everlasting God, and these things will never be taken from her.

When we pray for picnics and rain and sun and crops and wealth and health and long life and comfort we pray for good things. But these things pass. These pass as dust passes on to more dust. We pray for things that will leave us, if for no other reason than by the ravages of time.

Mary on the other hand has chosen a better way, the way of discipleship, the way of the Word and the presence of God, the way of wisdom, the way of discernment. Mary learns these lessons at the feet of the anointed one, Jesus the Christ. Martha is worked up about the trappings of the world, while Mary is enthralled by the word of the Lord.

The consequences of the dishonor of her actions in polite society be cast aside, Mary seeks something that is broader and deeper than dinner; she is fed by the Lord.

The reason I mention this, while Martha is telling Jesus what to do, Mary rests in his presence, Mary is listening. She is finding out from Jesus what he wants us to do.

Four weeks ago, we heard the story of Jesus crossing the Sea of Galilee to the Gentile side where he met the Gerasene Demoniac. At the end of this story, the man, no longer demon infested, asked to follow Jesus, but Jesus told him to go home and declare how much God has done for him.[4]

The following week, we read of three would-be followers of our Lord. The first says he will follow, but Jesus warns if he does he will have no place to rest his head.[5] The next is beckoned by Jesus to follow, but first this man wishes to bury his father. He is told that the dead should bury the dead.[6] The last says he will follow Jesus, but first he wants to bid his family farewell. Jesus tells him to look forward, not back.[7] Scripture does not tell us whether any of these three joined the Lord or not, but in Vegas, I would have bet against them.

Two weeks ago was the tale of the sending of the seventy. They went ahead of Jesus to where he will visit and laid the ground work for the kingdom by words and signs. Then they returned to report the joy and the glory. There Jesus reminds them “do not rejoice at this, that the spirits submit to you, but rejoice that your names are written in heaven.”[8] They did as the Lord asked, and then were given the good news of where their joy and their salvation lie.

Last week was the story of Jesus and the lawyer. When the lawyer tells Jesus that the good neighbor is one who shows mercy he is told to “Go and do likewise.”[9] As for whether he does or not we will never know.

Over these past five weeks we have been shown different models of discipleship, different ways of confessing the faith and showing present witness to God’s grace in Jesus Christ. Some are examples of great encouragement, like the former Gerasene Demoniac and the Seventy. Others leave us to wonder, like the three men or the lawyer. In Martha and Mary we are shown two examples of good disciples, but one whose discipleship is better than the other’s.

But here’s the trick, here’s the sticky wicket. Martha was behaving like a real “Type A” personality. She is the kind of person who wants to get things done, and in this case do them for the Lord. But she hadn’t paused to find out if what she was doing was what the Lord wanted her to do.

We may think we know what is best for us, but only in sitting at the feet of Jesus will we ever be able to learn what is truly important.

Lord we pray for wisdom.

Lord we pray for discernment.

Lord we pray for your gifts.

Lord, we pray for peace.

Lord, we pray for mercy.

Lord, we pray for grace.

Through these things we learn what God wants from us.

So, how should we pray?

That will have to wait until next week…

[1] Dr. Steve Wilson, may he rest in peace.
[2] I learned this in high school chemistry nearly thirty years ago. Dang that makes me feel older.
[3] Dust, http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dust, accessed July 21, 2007.
[4] Luke 8:39
[5] Luke 9:57-58
[6] Luke 9:59-60
[7] Luke 9:61-62
[8] Luke 10:1-27
[9] Luke 10:37