Listen Up!
Tommy Cook, Preaching
June 21 and 22, 2007

Normally, ministers don't tell stories about how they wrote their sermons, but I had an interesting experience this past week. I went out to the Presbyterian Seminary to walk their labyrinth - to meditate, pray, and dig deeper into this text. Well, as I was leaving, I felt a sharp pain in the back of my leg. And it hurt! Then it donned on me - I had a live bee in my pants!

When you realize that there is a bee in your pants, there is a decision to be made: Do you keep your pants on, or do you just take them off?
Well, I am happy to report that the pants stayed on and I did not receive a misdemeanor charge of indecent exposure, and I did not moon our friends at the seminary. In fact, I am quite thankful that I did not have to explain either of those events to the congregation today!

Today, we heard again the story of the famous sisters - Martha and Mary. A few months ago, I mentioned to someone that I was preaching on this text, and she responded "Oh, I really don't like that story…" Curious, I asked "Why not?" She said "Because I am a Martha."

That really got me thinking…Man, Martha gets a really bad rap in this story. We can picture Jesus sitting in the living room of this home, speaking to a group of people circled around him - including Mary sitting contentedly on the floor. Then in bursts Martha, with her sleeves rolled up, her hair sticking out the back of a handkerchief, a bead of sweat rolling down her face, and her eye just starting to twitch a little bit as she eyes Mary. She's had enough! She doesn't event talk to Mary, but addresses Jesus directly. And she points to Mary and pleads: "Jesus, make her help me!" This is the scene of the movie where the music scratches to a stop, and we see the entire room all turning their heads at once to Martha, who is certainly fuming, and waiting for Jesus' reply. Surely, she was judged harshly by the group, and she is judged pretty harshly by us - the readers and hearers of the story.

But let's take another look at Martha - past the frantic and frenzied and distracted woman that we first see… We have to remember that as Jesus traveled to Jerusalem, he and the disciples were entirely dependent upon the hospitality and generosity of the people they encountered from town to town. If they were not welcomed into a house, they would go without shelter and food until they were. And Martha is one of those people who invited them in, sharing her home and her food to Jesus, the disciples, and certainly a few townsfolk who followed out of curiosity.

And the story tells us that this is Martha's home - not Martha's brother's home, or Martha's father's home, or Martha's husband's home. Martha is a survivor through and through, because first century Palestine was no walk in the park for a single woman. In fact, she would have been one of the most vulnerable members of society.

Martha had the spirit of an independent woman, the work ethic of Rosie the Riveter, the generosity of the Good Samaritan, and the hospitality of a classy southern belle.

We have all encountered Martha's in our lives. After all, who else could be responsible for Southern Hospitality - one of the most noble characteristics of the American South. We recently took both the Middle and High School groups on mission trips, and both groups were the recipients of amazing Southern hospitality. In Memphis, we met a man and his wife who keep steaks marinading throughout the week, and were ready at any given moment to bring a group out to their patio for an impromptu grill-out. In fact, I would bet that if we called him today, we could spend at least three hours with him eating steak on his patio! While our high-school grouped worked on gulf coast hurricane relief, the host church cooked them extravagant meals every day - all from scratch.

And we have Martha's among our congregation as well. When there is an opportunity to serve, these people jump at the chance - to show up for Mission Possible or Repair Affair, to volunteer with the children or youth, to serve on a committee or a board position, to serve as elder or deacon… In fact, I would say that almost all of us have a little bit - or a lot - of Martha in us. (Including us men - we aren't off the hook because the story is about two sisters…)

We know Martha, we've seen Martha, we've been Martha, and we love Martha…

And this makes Jesus' words very difficult for us to hear: "Martha, Martha." These words aren't demeaning, or insulting, or disrespectful, but they sure are challenging!

"Martha, Martha, you're too distracted."
"Martha, Martha, be calm."
"Martha, Martha, learn from your sister."
This is the worst thing that a sibling could possibly hear!

"Martha, Martha, come and join us."

Thomas Merton, a Trappist Monk, and one of the most prolific writers of the Christian faith, describes Christian discipleship in three ways:

1. Living For God,
2. Living With God, and
3. Living In God.

All of them are simple, but none of them are easy. When Living for God, one's actions and words are deeply rooted in a desire to serve God and others. This is a challenge and a duty of all Christians to seek to live a life for God. Merton notes that we must live with God - experiencing, acknowledging, and basking in the presence of God that surrounds us always. Living in God is attained by the greatest of saints and wisest of the faithful.

"Martha, Martha, come and be with me."
"Martha, Martha, come and listen."

We find throughout the scripture - and here in the story of Martha - that even the most passionate, faithful, and dedicated of Disciples needed to be reminded that sometimes, simply being with Jesus was the greatest way to answer their calling. For Thomas Merton, his answer to that calling was to devote himself to the solitary lifestyle of a monk - meditating, praying, and seeking new ways to live for, with, and in God. He continued to seek new ways to listen to God.

In my studies of music, we ran into all sorts of bizarre and brilliant characters. John Cage is one of the most famous - and infamous - 20th century musical composers. His music served to challenge - and occasionally entertain - his audiences. In one case, he stepped onto a stage with a toolbox, and rather than playing the piano, he disassembled it piece by piece. As you can image, this upset more than a few people - including the folks who felt they were gypped on their ticket purchase, as well as the school who owned the piano!

But Cage's music was intended to be thought provoking. In one piece, titled 4-minutes-and-33-seconds, he walked onto the stage, opened the piano, and sat silently for 4'33". As you can imagine, there were murmurs from the crowd, rustling of papers, coughs, chatter, laughter, angry concertgoers grabbing their coats and hats and storming out of the door - perhaps a heckler firing taunts or objections to the stage.

And yet for Cage, and a few others, the room was filled with music. This music did not come from a piano, or any other instrument, but from the sounds that would have otherwise gone unnoticed. Cage was convinced that each moment, our world is composing a symphony around us, and that we live our lives oblivious to its presence. Either that, or the sounds would have been seen as an inconvenience, a disruption, or a distraction. Mind you, I don't recommend buying a recording of 4'33", but maybe there is some music in our world that we have overlooked in our haste and hurry.

"Martha, Martha, sit and listen…"

As many of you know, my grandfather passed away on the Fourth of July, and we drove down to Florida for the memorial service. It was a small and simple service - my grandfather was not a regular attendant of church, but my grandmother was the librarian, and she had volunteered many, many hours to her church.
We were a family in mourning, and were ready to hear the good news of comfort and hope. The service was simple: I would begin with a guitar piece, there would be three readings, another guitar piece, a sermon, and one more song on the guitar. The first two guitar pieces went well, and so did the readings - and then came the sermon.

Unfortunately, the minister had little to say about my grandfather. He had jotted down a couple of facts - he knew that Grandpa was a WWII vet and that he was baptized in 1955. He looked up quizzically after each statement, as if to check for accuracy.

"He had… four children, is that right?"

And then the sermon took a twist. He said smugly, pointing to the cremated remains of my grandfather:

"You know, we're all gonna be dead one day, and you have two choices: Heaven or Hell…"

As you can imagine, we didn't hear much about my grandfather from that point on…

And I was angry. Angry because I wanted to mourn and celebrate, to cry and laugh as I heard about my grandfather. I wanted to hear about the power of love, of hope, and of a God who cherishes every life, and mourns every death.

I was distracted. I wanted to argue with him. I wanted to shout "Yes, this life matters! Yes! Walter's life matters! I wanted to tell stories about my grandfather: about his career on a tugboat, his adventures as a Prisoner of War, his wiry frame and receding hairline that I will carry with pride because I got it from him! About how at the end of his days, his eyes still watered up when he talked about his bride of 63 years!

And I wasn't listening - to the minister, to God, to anyone…

And then it ended. And it was time for my last guitar piece. And as I took my seat, guitar in my lap, I looked up to see my family - and filling the three rows behind them - members of the church who were sitting with us silently. They said few words, but their presence was thunderous and strong - drowning out the angry voice inside my head… It was so simple, so profound, and I almost missed it!

"Martha, Martha… Look at Mary."
"Martha, Martha…Be humble."

And how easy it is to miss the presence of God among us! How many times do we overlook the presence of God in our lives?

I love the setting of this story - Martha and Mary did not encounter Jesus in a Temple or Synagogue or a place of power or worship, but in her home, among the dirt, and furniture and food and animals and chores and friends and distractions.

"Martha, Martha… I am here."

Whether we call ourselves a Martha, or a Mary, or a combination of the two, we each have distractions. There is work, and bills, and doctor's appointments, and school, and sports, and hobbies, and technology that can keep us distracted for hours at a time…

Yet we still have a calling:
"Martha, Martha…come and listen."
"Martha, Martha…come and join me."

It is my deepest hope and prayer that as we leave these doors today, that our faith calls us to live for God, and with God, and in God. Amen.