Luke 10:38-42

About ten years ago I helped organize a Lenten retreat which was led by an Episcopal monk.  Many people don’t realize that there are monks and nuns in the Episcopal Church but there are.  Like monks and nuns in other traditions, monks and nuns in the Episcopal Church take vows of poverty, chastity, and obedience and, except for hermits, live in community.  There are several men’s and women’s monastic orders in New York.  The monk who led our retreat was a member of the Society of St. John the Evangelist, whose main house is in Boston.  Mark, the monk who led our retreat, is a friend of mine from seminary.  After we graduated, he worked for a few years in parishes and then answered a call to monastic life, which he had felt for a long time.  One of the ministry’s of Mark’s order is to go out to parishes and teach people how to pray.  They regularly lead these weekend retreats which they called schools of prayer.  During the retreat, he talked about making a sacred place in one’s home; about setting aside regular time for prayer and mediation; and he taught us a couple of different styles of prayer.  After the retreat ended, one of our parishioners took me aside to discuss his feelings about the retreat.  Now, I love and adore this man.  He was one of my wardens, and was a mentor to me in the practical, business end of church affairs.  He told me that all of this sitting in a room and praying seemed self-indulgent.  He wondered what good it did anybody and what practical effect it had.  He didn’t use the word navel-gazing but that is what he meant.

I think my friend’s view of prayer and contemplation is pretty widely shared, but that has not always been the case.  In past generations the contemplative life was thought to be the Christian ideal.  The Martha and Mary story traditionally was interpreted to show the superiority of the contemplative life over the active life.  Martha, rushing around attending to the details of entertaining represents the active life and receives Jesus’ mild rebuke, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things.’”  Mary, sitting at the Lord’s feet attentively listening to his words, represents the contemplative life and receives Jesus’ praise, “’ Mary has chosen the better part.’”  The Cloud of Unknowing, a fourteenth century classic of English spirituality says that the active life and the contemplative life overlap and compliment each other but, at the end of the day, the author says, “Active is the lower, contemplative is the higher.[1]”

More recently, however, Martha’s stock has risen and Mary’s has fallen.  There has been a renewed appreciation of the active life and an increased understanding that every Christian has a vocation, not just those called to monasticism or ordination.  As part of this renewed appreciation of the active life, Martha has received more sympathetic treatment.  Formerly she was seen as some kind of deranged suburban housewife – a hostess run amuck.  But recently scholars have discovered the importance of hospitality in the ancient world.  Martha is not a desperate housewife; rather she is an excellent hostess.  In her hospitality she follows in the footsteps of Abraham.  As we hear in today’s Old Testament lesson, Abraham lavishes hospitality on his three guests who turn out to be messengers of the Lord, or maybe even the Lord himself.  Martha was a woman of action, and not only her sister but she too was a woman of great faith.  When Lazarus, Martha and Mary’s brother died, it was Martha who said to Jesus, “’I know that [my brother] will rise gain in the resurrection on the last day.’”  And it was Martha who makes the great statement of faith, the same great statement of faith that St. Peter also makes, “’Yes, Lord, I believe you are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one coming into the world.’”  Whereas once Mary and the contemplative life were seen as the model of faith, now Martha and the active life are seen as the model of faith.

Perhaps it is time now for the pendulum to swing the other way, at least a little bit.  In our culture we are frequently so busy and pressed for time that we forget to sit at the feet of Jesus.  We’re all Marthas but we need do get in touch with our inner Mary.  But how do we do that?  Here are three easy ways that fit into any busy schedule.

First, read the Bible, especially the Gospels.  Everyone should set aside some time each day to read and study the Bible.  There are many excellent translations available and several good study Bibles, which contain introductions to each book and explanatory notes to illuminate difficult or obscure verses. If you have small children you should include a Bible story as part of their bedtime stories.  Older children should each have an age-appropriate Bible; know where it is; and use it regularly.

Second, everyone should pray every day.  With just a little discipline a person can easily say a prayer in the morning and in the evening review the day and offer a prayer before bed.  The more ambitious might like to look at page 136 in the Prayer Book, which has brief daily devotions for individuals and families.  The truly ambitious might like to read daily Morning and/or Evening Prayer or join Victor Stanwick for Morning Prayer at 5:15am Monday through Friday in the chapel.

Finally everyone should attend church regularly.  It is important to hear the Word of God in the context of the community and regularly to receive the Eucharist.  In our baptisms we promise to “continue in the apostles’ teaching and fellowship, in the breaking of bread, and in the prayers.”Before Jesus’ death Mary anoints Jesus with costly oil.  Judas, of al people, complains that the anointment could have been sold and used for the poor.  But Jesus says, “’The poor you always have with you, but you do not always have me.’”  It’s not that Jesus doesn’t care about the poor, we know that he does, rather he is telling us not to be distracted when we should be paying attention to him.  In a similar way, there is always something to do: one more phone call to make, one more email to answer, one more meeting to attend.  There is a time to stop all of our busyness, all of our rushing around – a time to sit down, be quiet, and listen at Jesus’ feet.   Spending time at the feet of the Lord strengthens and deepens the active life most of us live.  You might be interested to know that the last I heard of my monk friend, he and some of his brothers were in Baton Rouge, at the parish of another of our classmates, working with the survivors of Hurricane Katrina. Amen.

[1] The Cloud of Unknowing and Other Works (New York: Penguin Books, 1978), 71.