The Good Portion | Sunday, May 3, 2026
May 3, 2026 · Pastor Miles DeBenedictis
In this teaching
A verse-by-verse teaching on Luke 10:38-42, the account of Martha and Mary, showing that Martha's busy service was good but disordered—Jesus calls us to sit at His feet first so that our service flows from worship rather than duty. The lesson is not to do fewer things, but to do the right thing first.
- The passage is easy to understand but hard to apply, especially for productivity-driven, "Protestant work ethic" Americans constantly distracted by many worries.
- It is not a rebuke of hard work or hospitality; Martha's serving was a genuinely good thing deserving commendation, and Mary's listening was equally right.
- My service stops being God's service when my focus shifts from Christ and others to myself, revealed in Martha's "Lord, do you not care?"
- Good things become troubling things when they produce more worry than worship and become the rule by which we judge others.
- Martha did not have a service problem but a sequence problem; the many things find their place only when the one thing—sitting at Jesus's feet—comes first.
- This reframe transforms not only ministry but every workplace: whatever we do, we do it as to the Lord, out of worship rather than to earn standing with God.
Readable is a lightly edited reading copy; Verbatim stays close to the spoken words. The audio and video are the record of what was said.
Now it happened as they went that he entered a certain village; and a certain woman named Martha welcomed Jesus into her house. And she had a sister called Mary, who also sat at Jesus's feet and heard his word. But Martha was distracted with much serving, and she approached Jesus and said, "Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Therefore tell her to help me." And Jesus answered and said to Martha, "Martha, Martha, you are worried and troubled about many things. But one thing is needed, and Mary has chosen that good part, which will not be taken away from her." ()
A simple story, easy to understand and hard to live: Jesus reminds the busy servant that one thing is needed first.
What Are You Worried About?
This is a short passage that I have found, both this weekend and in times past, to be personally challenging—and I think you might find it challenging too, because it confronts something we all wrestle with. It can be summed up in a simple question: what, if anything, are you worried about right now? Some of you are thinking, "Why remind me? It's not one thing—it's twelve things." A couple of you may say, "Jesus said don't worry, and Paul said be anxious for nothing, so I just don't worry." God bless you. For the rest of us, we find ourselves frequently anxious about many things.
There's a long list. The garage is messy. The tile is broken, the irrigation needs fixing. Many of our youth are preparing for finals; others are writing term papers. Maybe you have a bid out you're waiting to hear about, or you're the lead on a presentation. Maybe it's that strange sound in your car. All of us can be distracted, worried, and troubled by many different things. And there is a lesson here for those of us who struggle with that.
Easy to Understand, Hard to Apply
You don't need any Greek exegesis to understand this section. The story is simple. But this is one of those texts that is easy to understand and difficult to apply. To be honest, I'm rather terrible at applying it. Why? Because I'm an American.
More than twenty years ago I taught at a small international Bible school in northwest Germany, and I discovered that Europeans often look at us and say, "You guys are workaholics." There's truth to that. As we mark the 250th anniversary of our nation, even secular historians say the Protestant work ethic has pushed this nation to achieve amazing things. We sent astronauts around the moon; no other nation has done that, and we put men on the moon more than fifty years ago. That "go and get it done" mindset means we always have many things on our minds—things we want to do and need to do—and they weigh on us.
So the challenge of this passage is not understanding what it says, but how to frame it so we hear what God wants to say to us. This is not a word against hard work. It is not an endorsement of idle inactivity, nor a rebuke of active service. Rather, it reminds us that there is an order to things that matters. It doesn't teach us to do fewer things—it tells us to do the right things first.
The Myth of Doing Less
We have lived through a massive technological revolution that promised we wouldn't have to do as much, because machines would do so much work for us. How many of you actually do less now as a result? I don't see a single hand. The promise of "you will do less" has instead made us more productive, and as we become more productive, we fill the gaps with more things—and the expectations on our work increase from those over us.
This is now hyperscaling with artificial intelligence. The Harvard Business Review reported in February on two researchers from the Haas School of Business at Berkeley who spent eight months observing a 200-person tech firm in Silicon Valley. The hypothesis was that AI would shrink the workforce. That's not what happened. It increased the workload, because people became productive at levels they'd never reached—5x or 10x their output—and so they simply did more work on top of that, and the expectations followed. Instead of being released from their jobs, they got burned out.
God never made us to work twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. The computer systems we employ can do that, and it pushes us to feel we should too. That Protestant work ethic drives us until we have no margin, and when we have no margin, we have very little life. My wife and I wrestle with this. When our kids were little they watched Veggie Tales, and there was a song—"I'm so busy, busy, dreadfully busy; you've no idea what I've got to do." We sing that to each other from time to time. We can find ourselves much too busy for one another. I feel myself wrestling with this right now.
A Good Servant After the Good Samaritan
It's interesting that this passage follows the Good Samaritan, because here we are introduced to a good servant. Martha and Mary appear elsewhere in the Gospels, twice in John. In —a beautiful passage—we learn these sisters had a brother named Lazarus, who fell ill and died. Jesus arrived after Lazarus had been in the tomb for days, and Martha said, "If you had been here, my brother would still be alive." That conversation leads to one of the seven "I am" statements: "I am the resurrection and the life." Lazarus is raised, and we see Martha and Mary again in .
From those passages we learn that the "certain village" Jesus entered was Bethany, just a few miles east of Jerusalem over the Mount of Olives. Three times a year faithful Jewish families went up to Jerusalem for the feasts—Passover in spring, Pentecost in early summer, and the fall feasts. The city would swell, and many pilgrims stayed in surrounding villages. Jesus likely stayed in Bethany at the home of Martha, Mary, and Lazarus. So when we find Jesus at Martha's home in , it is probably during one of the feasts of Israel.
Martha Serves, Mary Sits
We're told Martha welcomed Jesus into her house. Martha was a hospitable entertainer. Some of you know a Martha; some of you are a Martha. The Martha in my life is my wife—she loves to open the home and welcome people in. If you have that same gift, you should be a Connect Group host. Talk to Pastor Mark and Pastor Nick afterward; you'd be right in your lane.
Martha's mode is serving. In we read, "Then six days before the Passover, Jesus came to Bethany... and there they made him a supper, and Martha served. But Lazarus was one of those who sat at the table." And then Mary—Mary is where Mary always is—"took a pound of very costly spikenard oil and anointed the feet of Jesus and wiped them with her hair, and the house was filled with the fragrance of the oil." The home of Martha and Mary and Lazarus was frequently filled with the smell of Martha's perspiration and Mary's perfume. That's the scene, as it always seems to play out.
Some of you already don't like Mary. Why is Martha always hard at work while Mary seems to be doing nothing? It made me think of my own upbringing in the American education system in the 1980s and 1990s. In 1979, the year I was born, the Department of Education was founded, and to meet equity goals it shifted education from the merit of individuals toward group work. If you grew up then, you experienced group work—and if you were like me, you hated it, because every group seemed to have a lot of Marys who got a good grade while the Marthas picked up the slack.
"Mary Also Sat at His Feet"
The text says Mary "also sat at Jesus's feet and heard his word." That word also stood out to me. It highlights the contrast between Martha, busy about much serving, and Mary, apparently inactive. You could almost render it: "And Mary—notice this—she sat at Jesus's feet." This is noteworthy because the position Mary takes is the position of a disciple with a rabbi, which in the first century was generally only for men. Jesus doesn't forbid it; He allows Mary also to sit and learn from Him.
If anyone noticed this contrast, it was Martha. Every time she came in from the kitchen, the only thing she could see was Mary sitting at the feet of Jesus. The text says she was "distracted with much serving." That word means to be overburdened, and it implies being dragged or pulled away from what you would like to do. Have you felt that? There's something you wish you could do, and there's Mary doing exactly that, while so many other things demand your attention. Martha wanted to sit at the feet of Jesus too, but she couldn't—she was dragged away because things needed to be done. Many of us live in that place, feeling the pull of Martha.
Neither One Was Doing Wrong
Here is the conflict. The wrong way to read this text—and some commentators do—is as a rebuke of servants like Martha. Martha is doing a good thing. She deserves not condemnation but commendation. All through the Scriptures, especially the Old Testament, hospitality is highly valued among the people. In Eastern and Middle Eastern cultures it's a high value. She's not doing anything wrong; she's doing many things right.
But the added challenge is that Mary isn't doing anything wrong either. She is doing exactly what she ought to be doing, even though there are other things she could have been doing. So we can't simply say, "Martha, stop," and "Mary, stop." That's not what the text teaches. There's something more here to understand.
"Lord, Do You Not Care?"
Martha can't see anything except Mary not helping. So she does something about it. You can assume she had been hinting for a while—dropping a plate in front of Mary, "Come help me in the kitchen"—but the hints weren't landing, because Mary was listening to the teaching like everyone else. So Martha levels up: "Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Therefore tell her to help me." That's going to the boss.
Here's point one: my service is no longer God's service when my focus is shifted to myself and others. We know that's what has happened by the way Martha speaks. "Lord, do you not care?" There's a lot implied there. And the words hit harder when she moves from a question to a command: "Tell her to help me." She's commanding Jesus. I'm sure no one here besides me has ever had that kind of conversation with the Lord—"Lord, you are not doing this right. This is not how it's supposed to work."
It has been rightly observed that the real test of servanthood is when someone treats you like a servant. When we serve, what we really want is affirmation and appreciation. When that doesn't come, the servant moves from feeling appreciated to feeling angry. Martha felt completely justified—we know because she came to Jesus expecting Him to say, "You're right, Martha. Mary, get in there and help your sister." That is not what she got.
"Martha, Martha"
Jesus didn't address Mary. He turned back to Martha: "Martha, Martha, you are worried and troubled about many things." There are many ways to read His tone, but I believe the proper way is tenderness and compassion, with a refocusing challenge. Scripture repeats names like this elsewhere—"Simon, Simon, Satan has desired to sift you as wheat" (). In every case there's deep affection and recognition: "I see you and I know you." But within that grace there is also a small correction.
This gives us point two: good things become troubling things when they produce more worry than worship. Martha was doing a good thing by serving Jesus and His guests. The problem was that her good actions had become the rule by which she measured everyone else's actions or inactions.
This is the danger anytime we begin to serve the Lord and His people—in children's ministry, on the security team, the tech or sound team, a short-term trip. When you step out to serve, one impulse that creeps in is judging everyone else by what you do. Your service, given to the Lord as worship, becomes the measuring rod for other people's activity or inactivity. I've seen people fall into this trap a thousand times. The moment they start serving, they look around and think, "How come you're not doing what I'm doing?"
A Sequence Problem, Not a Service Problem
Martha was certain Jesus would side with her and rebuke Mary. Instead He says, "Martha, you have a you problem. But one thing is needed, and Mary has chosen that good part, which will not be taken away from her."
We have the contrast between the many things and the one thing. I routinely fall into the trap of being focused on the many things to the exclusion of the one thing—and then the many things take on a nature they were never meant to have, because I've missed the one thing. This is one of the major hazards of serving the Lord, and every servant of God wrestles with it, especially pastors.
Point three: the many things find their proper place only when the one thing comes first. This is the easy-to-miss reality. This is not a passage about doing fewer things—there were still things that needed to be done. It's about doing the right thing first. Misread, it can either heap guilt on overworked volunteers for not being contemplative enough like Mary, or encourage the chronically passive to feel justified in their inactivity. Neither is what Jesus intends.
The weary, troubled, chronically worried person like Martha doesn't get that way by serving too much. They get that way by losing sight of why they're doing it and who they're doing it for. When things get out of order and we miss sitting at the feet of the Savior, our busy work becomes the thing we think gives us status and standing with Him—when in reality we have status and standing only because of what our Savior did for us. When we've sat with Him and seen that, our service flows as worship and not as duty. As Paul says, "Whatever you do, do it heartily, as to the Lord and not to men." Martha didn't have a service problem; she had a sequence problem. Her things were simply out of order.
"That Good Part"
Notice Jesus doesn't say Mary chose the better part. He says she chose that good part, and it will not be taken away from her. Imagine the moment: a room full of people, Jesus teaching as they recline together, Mary among the listeners. In comes Martha—red, sweaty, flour on her forehead—and every eye shifts to her. "Lord, do you not care?" The eyes move to Jesus. "...that I'm working and Mary's not?" The eyes shift to Mary. Everyone waits for Jesus to say, "Mary, get up and help." Instead He says, "Martha, Martha." That's not what Martha expected, and I don't think it's what Mary expected either. She was probably bracing for a rebuke that never came.
Martha wasn't doing wrong by serving—she was doing a good thing. But she missed the moment. She lost sight of what her service was all about and thought, for that instant, that Jesus didn't care. He did.
The Order Matters Everywhere
I have fallen into Martha's pattern many times. There will always be many things and much serving, but one thing truly is needed. That one thing is the key that helps me see that the many things and the much serving are done not out of duty to earn favor or position with God, but as worship because of what He has done for me. When I sit first at Jesus's feet, then my service becomes worship and not duty. The order matters. It's a hard one for me to learn.
This isn't only true in so-called ministry. It's true wherever you find yourself working this week—a classroom, an office, a construction site. "Whatever you do in word or deed, do it heartily, as to the Lord and not to men." How might your workplace—and the frustration you feel with coworkers or supervisors—change if you began to realize, "I'm not doing this for men, but for God; it's out of worship that I do what I do"? It's a reframe that radically transforms the way I see my work. God help me. I am challenged by this every time I read it.
Closing Prayer
God, thank you for this passage of Scripture. There's a lot here to think about and wrestle with. I pray we wouldn't soon forget it as we leave this place, and that you would encourage and challenge us with it. Lord, help us realize that the work we do is good. Vocation is something you created before the fall; you've given us a task and what we need to accomplish it. The challenge comes when we start to measure ourselves or others by the tasks we do and not by the standing we have with you—image bearers created by you and for your purposes. Would you reform and transform our thinking, so that we work as worship and not merely as duty to earn a better standing or position. God help us, we pray. We ask this in Jesus's name, and all those who agree said, amen.
Amen. Praise the Lord. Thank you, Anthony and team. Good morning, Cross Connection. It is so good to see you all. You can have a seat. I am glad you're here with us this morning.
Before we get into the Scriptures, I have a couple of quick things to mention. Next week is an important day on our calendar. If you did not remember, next week is Mother's Day, so put that on your calendar. It happens to be one of the most attended days of the year at church, mostly because moms tell their kids, "You are coming to church with me today." We will certainly see some people at church next week that we don't normally see.
We have something really special planned for next week. One of the guys who grew up in our youth ministry, Jason McClellan, who graduated from high school last year, is going to be leading the service. Our youth are taking over the service next week, so be praying for Jason. I think he might be a tiny bit nervous, but he's going to do great. Pastor Garrett and our youth team have been doing a really good job raising up new teachers, and I know you will be blessed by next week's message. Make sure you come out and support Jason.
And remember, moms, bring your mom to church unless your mom is already here. My mom will be here, but I will not be. My wife, our daughter Evangeline, and I are flying to Europe on Saturday of next week. I will be speaking at a conference in Siegen, Germany, the week following Easter. Pastor David Guzik and I, along with some other friends of mine who pastor in various places, will be speaking to a group of about 800 Christian leaders and pastors from Western Europe. God is doing an awesome work in Europe, so please be praying for that ministry.
This conference happens every year in May, leading up to the celebration of the ascension of Christ, which occurs 10 days before Pentecost. Christ ascended into heaven, and they celebrate that in a big way in Germany. It is a day off there, and we will be doing a conference the week following Mother's Day, so please keep that in your prayers.
This morning, we are in the Gospel of Luke. If you want to take out your Bibles, if you don't have one, you can definitely raise your hand, and an usher will bring you a Bible. We are in , which is a great passage of Scripture. It is a short section that I have found particularly meaningful while preparing this weekend.
For this message, as well as in past times that I've read through it, I have found this passage to be personally challenging. I think that you might find it personally challenging this morning as well, because it confronts us with something we all wrestle with and struggle with. It could be summed up in a very simple question: What, if anything, are you worried about right now?
For some of you, you're thinking, "Why do you have to remind me? I have too many things on my list." It's not just one thing; it's twelve things that I'm worried about. Now, there are some of you here this morning who, when I say, "What are you worried about right now?" respond, "Well, Jesus said, 'Don't worry about your life,' and Paul said, 'Be anxious for nothing.' So I listen to Jesus and Paul, and I just don't worry." Well, for the two of you, God bless you. We're very proud that you've experienced that. But for the rest of us, we do find ourselves frequently anxious and worried about many different things.
There's a long list of things that you might be more than a little distracted by this morning, if you really took the time to think about it. Things like the garage being messy—something I need to get to—or broken tile or broken irrigation. For my kids and many of the kids in the youth ministry, especially right now, they're preparing for finals, and that's certainly on the front of their minds. Some of the people I know are preparing for term papers right now. Normally, this time of year, I would fly out to Kentucky for a PhD seminar in May, but I've put that on hold to speak at this conference. Normally, I would be putting the final touches on a term paper right now, but I'm very thankful to be going to speak at a conference instead.
If it's not finals or a term paper, maybe you have a bid out that you're waiting to hear from, or perhaps you're the lead on a presentation that's coming up. You have all these different things on your mind. That strange sound that's been in your car for a while—it's like a vacuum; I need to deal with that situation. We can all be distracted by many different things and worried and troubled by those things.
There's a lesson in the text for us today who struggle with being anxious and worried about many things. However, I must say at the outset that the lesson of this text comes in a section that is really easy to understand. You don't need any sort of Greek.
Exegesis of this section in helps us understand it. The understanding is clear, and the story is simple. However, this is one of those texts that is easy to understand but difficult to apply. I have a hard time wrestling with this text. To be honest, I am rather terrible at applying these texts. Why? Because I am an American.
I had the privilege of living in Germany more than 20 years ago, where I taught at a small international Bible school in northwest Germany. While I was there, I discovered that Europeans frequently look at us Americans and say, "You guys are workaholics." There is some truth to that. If you listen to secular historians, you will find that we are currently celebrating the 250th anniversary of our nation. They will say that the Protestant work ethic has pushed this nation. Even those who do not believe in God acknowledge that the Protestant work ethic has driven this nation to achieve amazing things.
We saw a demonstration of this just last month when we sent astronauts around the moon. No other nation has done that. While other nations may follow and may achieve this in the not-too-distant future, we put astronauts on the moon more than 50 years ago. It is phenomenal to see the rise of this nation and all the things that have happened, which have a lot to do with that "go and get it done" sort of mindset.
Because of this, we constantly have many things on our minds—things we want to do and things we need to do. These responsibilities weigh on us and burden us. The challenge with this passage is not really in understanding what the text says; it is in how we frame it to understand what God wants to speak to us about.
This passage is not a word against hard work. I must emphasize that because sometimes this passage has been treated that way. It is not an endorsement of idle inactivity, nor is it a rebuke of hard work and active service. Rather, this text is a reminder that there is an order to things that matters in our lives, and we need to take note of it. This isn't a text that teaches us to do fewer things; rather, it tells us to do the right things first.
And that's one of the keys that, even before we read the text, I want you to have in your mind. I think this is really important because we have lived through, in our nation, especially during my lifespan, a massive technological revolution that promised we would not have to do as much. We were told we would have these business machines that would do so much work for us. How many of you have experienced that you do less now as a result of these things? For the record, I see not a single hand.
Why is that? Because the promise of these technologies, which said we would do less, has actually meant that we become more productive. As we become more productive, we fill in the gaps with more things. Not only do we fill in the gaps with more things, but the expectations upon our work increase as well, from those who are over us. This is now hyperscaling with the introduction of new artificial intelligence tools.
There were some researchers, and this came out in the Harvard Business Review at the beginning of February. Two researchers from the Haas School of Business at Berkeley were attached to a tech firm in Silicon Valley, unnamed for the purpose of the research, but the firm has 200 people. These two researchers were there for eight months to observe how artificial intelligence affected this business. They did not find, even though it was the hypothesis of many that this would reduce the size of the workforce due to less need for individuals, that this was the case.
What actually happened was that it increased the workload because these people became productive at a level they had never been productive before. For many of them, it increased their productive output fivefold or tenfold. Because they could do more faster, they just started to take on more work on top of that. Then the expectations came, and instead of being released from their jobs because of artificial intelligence, they got burnt out. Unfortunately, that is what happens to a lot of people; they get burnt out.
I don't know if you know this, but God never made us to work 24 hours a day, seven days a week. The computer systems that we employ can do that, and so it pushes us to feel like we should do more as well. That Protestant work ethic drives us and drives us until we are busy, and we keep adding.
Busyness has become a significant part of our lives, leaving us with no margin. When we have no margin, we experience very little life. I wrestle with this, and my wife wrestles with it too. We have that kind of drive, which I believe we inherited from our parents—a work ethic that pushes us to do more and do it faster. When you can do more, you feel compelled to do more.
When my kids were little, they would watch Veggie Tales. Do any of you remember Veggie Tales? There was a song in one of the episodes that went, "I'm so busy, busy, dreadfully busy. You've no idea what I've got to do." My wife and I sometimes sing that to each other, and now you see why I'm not on the worship team. We can find ourselves dreadfully busy, much too busy for others. I often feel like I don't have time for you, and it's a real challenge. As I mentioned, I am wrestling with this right now.
If you would take out your Bibles and turn to the book of Luke, chapter 10, I would appreciate it if you could stand with me. We will look at the last section of this passage. I find it interesting that this passage follows the story of the Good Samaritan because here we are introduced to a good servant.
In , , it says, "Now it happened as they went that he entered a certain village, and a certain woman named Martha welcomed Jesus into her house. She had a sister called Mary, who also sat at Jesus's feet and heard his word. But Martha was distracted with much serving, and she approached Jesus and said, 'Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Therefore, tell her to help me.' Jesus answered and said to Martha, 'Martha, Martha, you are worried and troubled about many things, but one thing is needed. Mary has chosen that good part, which will not be taken away from her.'"
God, I pray as we stand here this morning with open Bibles before us, hopefully with open ears and open hearts to receive your word. I ask that you speak to us. This text, with its hundred or so words, is not hard to understand, Lord, but the teaching of this text is not easy for many of us to apply.
So I pray that you would open our hearts. I pray that you would speak to us and teach us. Continue to transform us by the renewing of our minds. We ask this in Jesus' name, and all those agreed said, "You'd be seated."
As I said, you don't need any sort of formal theological education to parse this passage and understand it. There's really not a lot here that's difficult to comprehend. Even the youngest listeners in this can grasp it in the children's ministry. The basic outline of the story is clear, but there are some keys that I think can help provide further context to what's taking place in this passage.
We are introduced to a couple of individuals here: Martha and Mary. This isn't the only time that they appear in the Gospels. We find them twice in the Gospel of John, in fact. In , there is a really amazing passage of Scripture where we realize that Martha and Mary, these sisters, had a brother, and their brother's name was Lazarus. Lazarus, in , came down with some sort of illness that ultimately led to his death. Jesus was not there, even though his family had sent messengers to Jesus, saying, "You need to come help because your friend Lazarus is sick unto death."
When Jesus got there, Lazarus had already been dead and in the tomb for a few days. There is this beautiful exchange between Jesus as he is coming into the village. He is met by Martha, who we are introduced to in this passage. Martha says to Jesus, "If you had been here, my brother would still be alive." Jesus has this wonderful conversation with her that leads to one of the seven "I am" statements. The Gospel of John has seven statements where Jesus reveals himself as the I Am. In , he says, "I am the resurrection and the life." It is a beautiful passage of Scripture.
We meet Martha and Mary in that passage after the death of Lazarus, and ultimately, Lazarus is raised from death in that passage. We see Martha and Mary again in the very next chapter, in . They show up in a number of different places. When they do, we discover that the certain village that Jesus came into in this passage was the town that these three—Martha, Mary, and Lazarus—lived in, called Bethany. Bethany is east of Jerusalem.
Just a few miles outside of the old city, over what is called the Mount of Olives, three times a year, every faithful Jewish family in the first century would go to Jerusalem to celebrate the feasts. They would celebrate the spring feasts like Passover, then return in the early summer to celebrate the summer feast, Pentecost. Finally, they would come back in the fall to celebrate the fall feasts, such as the Feast of Tabernacles and the Feast of Trumpets.
As these pilgrims faithfully made their way to Jerusalem, the city would swell in size. Many of the people would stay in the surrounding villages. Jesus, when he would go to Jerusalem, likely stayed in Bethany at the home of Martha, Mary, and Lazarus. It is a good possibility that when we find Jesus at Martha's home in , it is during one of the feasts of Israel. We are told that Martha welcomed him into her house.
Martha was a hospitable entertainer. Some of you here this morning know a Martha, and some of you are a Martha. The Martha in my life is my wife. She is hospitable and loves to open our home to welcome people. If you have that same gift, you should consider being a Connect Group host. Talk to Pastor Mark and Pastor Nick afterward and sign up today. You would be right in your lane, doing the very thing that God gifted you to do.
For some of you, you recognize this Martha. Martha's mode is serving. In fact, in , we see the same thing again. Let me read to you from . It says, "Then six days before the Passover, Jesus came to Bethany where Lazarus was, who had been dead, whom Jesus raised from the dead. And there they made him a supper, and Martha served." Lazarus was one of those who sat at the table.
Then there is Mary. Mary is where she always is. Mary took a pound of very costly spikenard oil, anointed the feet of Jesus, and wiped them with her hair. The house was filled with the fragrance of the oil. The home of Martha, Mary, and Lazarus was frequently filled with the smell of Martha's perspiration and Mary's perfume. This is the scene, the scenario, as it always seems to play out.
In and , we encounter a familiar tension between Mary and Martha. Some of you may already feel a sense of frustration towards Mary. Why is it that Martha is always hard at work while Mary seems to be doing nothing? I can sense the tension in the room, especially from those who identify with Martha. It’s easy to have an issue with Mary leaving Martha to handle all the work.
As I reflected on this passage this week, I couldn't help but think about my own upbringing in the American education system. I was born in 1979 and grew up through the 1980s and 1990s. An interesting event occurred in 1979 when the Department of Education was founded, which changed education in America. The primary reason for this change was to meet equity goals. To achieve these goals, the Department of Education shifted the focus from individual merit to group work.
If you grew up in the 80s and 90s, you likely experienced group work in school. If you were anything like me, you probably hated it. Why? Because in virtually every group I was part of, there were always a lot of Marys. They would receive good grades as long as the Marthas picked up the slack and did all the work. Are there any other Marthas here this morning? I see some nodding heads. Group work was not enjoyable for many of us.
The text states that Mary also sat at Jesus's feet and heard His word. The word "also" stood out to me as I read through this passage. It is an interesting choice that highlights the contrast between Martha, who is busy with much serving, and Mary, who appears to be inactive in this context. Mary also sat at the feet of Jesus, while Martha welcomed Him into her house and entertained Him and others. Remember, Jesus didn’t travel alone; He had at least twelve named disciples with Him.
Many others were in the entourage. When Jesus showed up at your house in Bethany during the time of the Passover, Pentecost, or trumpets, he arrived with a huge entourage of people. Martha welcomed Jesus into her house and entertained him and all the others who were with him.
When it says that Mary also sat at the feet of Jesus, the word "also" could almost be rendered as "and Mary." Notice that she sat at Jesus's feet. This position is noteworthy because it signifies the role of a disciple with a rabbi, which, in the first century, was a position typically reserved for men. However, Jesus does not forbid it; he allows Mary to sit at his feet and learn from him. This highlights the contrast between the inactivity of Mary and the service of Martha.
If anyone noticed this contrast, it was Martha. It became the only thing she could see. Every time she came into the room from the kitchen, the only thing she could focus on was her sister, Mary, sitting at the feet of Jesus. This situation troubled her because, as the text says, she was distracted with much serving. The word "distracted" is interesting; it means to be overburdened. Many of you have experienced this feeling of being overburdened by all the things that need to be done.
The term translated as "distracted" or "overburdened" implies being dragged or pulled away from what you would like to do. Have you ever felt that? There’s something you wish you could do, but there’s Mary doing what you would like to do, while so many other things demand your attention. You feel the overwhelming pull to be dragged in a certain direction, away from what you truly want to do. Martha knows what she wants to do, but she is pulled away from it. There’s Mary.
Sitting at the feet of Jesus represents the position and posture of a disciple. Martha wanted to do what Mary was doing, but she couldn't. She was dragged away because there were things that needed to be done. I think that more than a few of us here today have felt the pull of Martha. Many of us live in this place where we experience that same pull.
Now, here's the conflict. The wrong way to see this text, and I highlight this because there are commentators who pull this out, is as a rebuke to servants like Martha. Martha is doing a good thing. She deserves not condemnation, but commendation for what she is doing. In fact, all throughout the Scriptures, especially in the Old Testament, the value of hospitality is elevated among the people of this time and place. Hospitality is important in Eastern cultures, particularly in the Middle East. We don't see it in the same way that we do here in the U.S., but in other places, it's a high value, and she's not doing anything wrong in this situation. In fact, she's doing many things right.
The added challenge is that Mary is not doing anything wrong either. She is also doing exactly what she ought to have been doing, even though there are other things she could have been doing. The challenge is that we can say, "Martha, you shouldn't be doing what you're doing," and "Mary, you shouldn't be doing what you're doing," but that's not at all what the text is teaching. There is something more here that we should understand as we go through this text.
However, Martha can't see anything except for Mary not doing what she was doing. She can't understand it, and she's bothered by it. So now she does something about it. Look at : Martha was distracted with much serving, and she approached Jesus. You have to assume that before she gets to this point where she goes to Jesus, she has been hinting to Mary for a while. You know the bit—every time she walks in with flour on her forehead, she looks at Mary and drops the plate in front of her.
Come and help me in the kitchen. But Mary is not getting it. The hints are just not clicking with her because she is listening to the teaching like everybody else in the room. Every time Martha comes in, she looks at Mary, and all she can see at this point is Mary. "Mary, come help me in the kitchen." But Mary doesn't get it. Now, Martha needs to level up. She said to Jesus, "Lord, do you not care that my sister left me to serve alone? Therefore, tell her to help me."
This is like going to the boss, right? "Lord, do you not care?" Point number one, if you're taking notes: my service is no longer God's service when my focus is shifted to myself and others. You can see that this is what has happened in this situation. Mary's service has moved from serving Christ and serving those who are there to serving herself and her situation. We know this is the case by the way she speaks to Jesus. "Lord, do you not care?" The words hit hard. "Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me alone to serve?" There's a lot implied there, isn't there? "You don't care, Lord, about all the things that I'm doing."
The words hit even harder when she moves from a question, "Lord, do you not care?" to commanding Jesus. Did you know that she is commanding him? "Lord, tell her to help me." Interesting. I'm sure there is not a single person here this morning, other than me, who has ever had that kind of conversation with the Lord. "Lord, you are not doing this right." None of you have ever done that. I have done it. This is not how this is supposed to work. "Lord, I know that I'm called to serve you, but everyone else is supposed to serve, too."
Tell them to get off there and help me. It has been observed, and I think rightly so, that the real test of servanthood is when someone treats you like a servant. You see, when we're serving, what we really think people should give us is affirmation and appreciation. But then, when that doesn't happen, and all of a sudden the servant is treated like a servant, the servant moves from feeling appreciated to feeling angry.
That's what's happening here with Martha. Some of you can feel the tension; you feel the tightness of this moment in these verses because you've experienced this exact thing. The one thing you can be certain of is that Martha felt justified in her frustration and anger with her sister Mary. How do we know that she felt justified? Because she came to Jesus expecting a certain response.
You can be sure she didn't come to Jesus and say, "Lord, do you not care that my sister's doing nothing and I'm doing everything? Tell her to come help me." She expected that Jesus would say, "Oh goodness gracious, you're right, Martha. Mary, get in there and help your sister." That's what she expected, but it's not what she got. Jesus didn't do that at all. Instead, he didn't address Mary; he turned back to Martha.
Jesus answered in and said to her, "Martha, Martha, you are worried and troubled about many things." There are probably many different ways to read Jesus's words here. When he says, "Martha, Martha, you are worried and troubled about many things," I think the proper way to read this is with a tone of tenderness and compassion. But it's also a refocusing challenge.
There are a number of places in the Scriptures where we see a name repeated like this, such as with Abraham, Moses, or Simon Peter. For example, in , Jesus says, "Simon, Simon, Satan has desired you that he might sift you as wheat." In every instance, there is deep affection and a recognition of the situation at hand.
He says, "Martha, Martha," which shows a recognition that He sees her and knows her. In that tender compassion and grace, there is also a small correction and refocusing. His compassionate correction informs us.
Point number two: good things become troubling things when they produce more worry than worship. Martha was doing a good thing by serving Jesus and those who were in her home. The problem was that her good actions had now become the rule by which she measured other people's actions or inactions. This is the challenge anytime we begin to serve the Lord and His people.
We frequently invite you to be involved in serving the Lord and His people, whether it's in children's ministry, on the security team, or on the tech team or sound team, or whatever it may be. We invite you to serve and to go on a short-term trip. However, one of the challenges in that is that when you step out and begin to serve the Lord by serving His people, you may fall into the trap of judging everybody else by what you do.
Now, your service, which is given to the Lord as worship, becomes the rule by which you judge other people's activity or inactivity. This pitfall is one that many have fallen into. I've seen it a thousand times, if not more. People step out to serve, and immediately, as they start to do that, there is the impulse to look at everybody else and think, "How come you're not doing what I'm doing? You should be helping in the way that I am."
This is one of the major pitfalls: judging everybody else by what we are doing or have done. Again, you can't miss the fact that Martha was certain when she came to Jesus that He would side with her and rebuke Mary. Instead, He says to Martha, "Martha, Martha, you are worried and troubled about many things. Martha, you have a you problem. But one thing is needed," as stated in , "and Mary has chosen that good part, which will not be taken away from her."
We have the contrast between the many things you are worried about and the one thing that is needed. I routinely fall into the trap of being focused on...
The many things can often take precedence over the one thing, leading to a new nature that they were never intended to take on because we miss the one thing. This is one of the major hazards of serving the Lord, and it is something that every servant of God wrestles with, especially pastors.
Point number three is that the many things find their proper place only when the one thing comes first. Here’s the easy-to-miss reality in this passage: it is not about doing fewer things, as there are still tasks that need to be accomplished in this situation. Rather, it is about doing the right thing first. This is one of those challenging passages that can be easily misinterpreted or wrongly applied, producing different results.
For instance, one way this passage can be taught may lead to overworked volunteers feeling guilty for not being contemplative enough like Mary. Alternatively, it can encourage the chronically passive to feel justified in their inactivity. Neither of these interpretations aligns with the intent of Jesus in this passage. The weary, troubled, and chronically worried individual, like Martha, does not become that way by serving too much. They become that way by losing sight of why they are doing what they are doing and who they are doing it for.
When we get things out of order and miss the opportunity to sit at the feet of the Savior, our busy work can become the very thing we mistakenly believe gives us status or standing with Him. In reality, we have our status and standing with Him because of what our Savior did for us. When we realize this as we sit with Him, it motivates our service as worship rather than as duty.
There is a fine line we can trip over, where we do things out of a sense of obligation, thinking that these actions grant us status and standing with the Lord. However, when we put things in their proper place and recognize what He has done, we can serve from a place of love and gratitude.
Our Savior has done for us, and this stirs us to serve Him out of worship and joy, as unto Him and not for others. This is what Paul says in one of his letters: whatever you do, do it heartily as to the Lord and not to men.
I think Martha had fallen into the trap of doing the things she was doing out of duty. She was judging everybody else for not measuring up to what she was doing instead of realizing that she was doing these things as to the Lord. We can lose sight of the fact that by serving, we are not trying to get ahead or get right with God. We are doing these things because we are worshiping Him.
Martha didn't have a service problem; she had a sequence problem. These things were out of order. Jesus said, "Mary has chosen that good part." Notice He doesn't say she chose the better part; He says she chose that good part. It will not be taken away from her. That was not what Martha expected, was it?
I think Martha thought that when she came to Jesus and said to Him, "Lord, do you not care?" she expected Jesus to immediately chastise Mary. Imagine the moment for a second: there is a room filled with people, Jesus is speaking as they are reclining and eating together, and Mary is there among all the people listening. Martha comes in, red and sweaty, a flower on her forehead. All the eyes in the room shift to her in that moment, moving from Jesus to her.
She says, "Lord, do you not care that I am working and Mary is not?" Everyone switches their attention to Mary, and now they are looking between Mary and Jesus and Martha, waiting for Jesus to say, "Mary, get up and help." Instead, Jesus says, "Martha, Martha." That is not what Martha expected. I don't think that is what Mary expected in that moment either. She probably braced herself for a rebuke from the Lord, and it did not come.
Mary has chosen that good part, a necessary portion. Martha wasn't doing wrong by serving; she was doing a good thing. However, she missed the moment. She missed what her service was all about and why she was doing it.
She wasn't doing anything wrong by serving, but she misunderstood. She thought Jesus, in that moment, didn't care. And he did. I found myself falling into the same pattern as Martha many times before. There will always be many things and much serving, but there truly is one thing that is needed. That one thing is the key that helps me to see that the many things and the much serving are done not out of duty to try and earn favor or position with God, but they are done for worship because of what He has done for me.
I've never not been challenged by this passage. Every time I come to it, I'm reminded that one thing is needed, and Mary has chosen that good part, which will not be taken away from her. The sequence is important. When I sit first with Jesus at His feet, then my service becomes worship and not a duty to try to better my position with Him. The order matters. One thing is needed. It's a hard lesson for me to learn.
This is not only true in ministry; it's true wherever you find yourself working this week, whether it's in a classroom, an office building, or on a construction site. The Scriptures say, "Whatever you do in word or deed, do it heartily as to the Lord and not to men." How might your workplace and the frustration you experience with your coworkers or those who are over you change if you begin to realize you are not doing this for men, but for God? It is out of worship to the Lord that I do the things that I do.
It's a reframe that radically transforms the way I see my work. God, help me. I certainly need to be challenged by this and am every time I read it. Would you stand with me as we close in prayer? God, thank you for this passage of Scripture. There's a lot here to think about and wrestle with. I pray, God, that we wouldn't soon forget it as we leave this place and that You would...
Encourage and challenge us with it, Lord. Encourage us to realize that the work we do is good. Vocation is something You created before the fall. You've given us a task, and You've provided what we need to accomplish that task.
The challenge arises when we start to measure ourselves or others by the tasks we do, rather than by the standing we have with You as image bearers created by You and for Your purposes. God, would You reform our thinking and transform our minds? As a result, that transformation would change the way we work, allowing us to see our work as worship rather than merely a duty to try to achieve a better standing or position.
God, help us, we pray. We ask this in Jesus' name, and all those that agree said, "Amen."
Related teachings
12Other messages that open the same passages