Sermon on Luke 10:38-42 and Genesis 18:1-14

St. Matthew's, Austin 22/vii/01 S. Barnes

You all have noticed common themes or patterns linking the Old and New Testament lessons that we read on a Sunday. Sometimes the links are more obvious than others. And always the scriptures work on more than one level.

On the surface, today's lessons from Genesis and Luke are both about hospitality. On a deeper level, they are about God entering and transforming our lives. In Genesis, Abraham offers rest and refreshment to three strangers who are traveling by (and whom the author tells us are "The Lord"). In Luke, Jesus is entertained at the home of Mary and Martha. In both, the hosts are actually receiving God, unawares. Fr. Joe did a rich presentation of these texts in our staff Bible study. One of his conclusions was: both texts teach us that we must stay alert, excercize spiritual discernment, and always be ready to welcome God in our midst.

The contrast between the lesson from Genesis and that from Luke points up the striking difference between the God of the Old convenant and the New. I would like briefly to look at that with you this morning. The texts have parallel structures. In each: God appears, God is received hospitably, and God delivers a message. But there the similarities end. And their points of divergence convey the new, unique content and call of the Christian faith.

In Genesis, God comes to Abraham and Sarah's tent and is received as a stranger--well, actually three strangers, in this pre-figuration of the Trinity (but that's for another sermon). In the Gospel, on the other hand, Jesus comes as a friend, even an intimate of the household of Mary and Martha. God veiled in flesh he is, but a familiar figure to the two sisters.

In Genesis, Abraham observes all of the formalities of lavish hospitality, deploying his wife and servants to prepare a great meal, complete with fatted calf. In Luke, we get no details about the hospitality; in fact, Jesus subordinates hospitality to the human encounter.

In both texts God delivers a message about salvation. But they are very different, too. In Genesis, God announces that Abraham and Sarah will have a son, to fulfill God's promise that Abraham will be the father of nations, the people Israel. It is a moment of epic importance in salvation history for all the children of God. In the Gospel, on the other hand, Jesus delivers an intensely personal message about individual discipleship to Martha. He lets her know that she, herself, can and should be present to the salvation that has come to her very house.

The most striking divergence between the two texts involves the role of the women. In Genesis, Sarah hides herself. Because she is a woman, she can take no part in the hospitality. It would be inappropriate for her even to be seen. So she stays apart--listening in secret--and laughing at--the unbelievable message that the three visitors bring: an old woman, she will bear a son.

In Luke, Jesus is the only man present. Lazarus, their brother, is not. The women are Jesus' hosts and his audience. Martha herself serves; Mary sits at Jesus' feet to learn. We have lived with this story so long that we forget what a radical thing that was. In Jesus' time it was unconventional for a single man to be entertained by two women; and it was unheard of for a woman to be dignified with instruction. But, then, Jesus was always defying social and religious conventions for the sake of the Gospel.

We usually think that poor Martha is fussing over the supper and pushing Jesus to make Mary help. As a woman, I can get cranky about Jesus' taking Mary's part and calling Martha away from the kitchen. Fine, I say, but who will get the meal prepared if the Marthas of this world don't?

But I think I've been missing the point. One key to understanding this story lies in taking very seriously the unconventional nature of the situation. Remember, Jesus did not call Martha to task for working. He said "you are worried and distracted". She was. But if we admit that the situation was justifiably unsettling to Martha--socially and spiritually--we can appreciate Martha's reaction to it and understand her exchange with Jesus in a deeper, richer way.

Socially, Jesus' intimate presence in their midst might well have made Martha ill at ease, as--even more so--would Mary's sitting at Jesus' feet. What would people think? Jesus said his gospel was for everyone, including the outcasts. But women were not entitled to learn. Women had no rights. They were not people--like men.

Above all, though, Jesus' and Mary's relationship was spiritually challenging to Martha. In effect, Jesus had called Mary to discipleship and Mary had responded: sitting at his feet, she was hearing and taking in the Word. Together they were living the Gospel of justice and equality.

Now it is easier for me to understand Martha. Her worry wasn't about the meal. Disconcerted by all of this irregularlity, she tried to bring things back in order by getting Jesus to release Mary to return to her "place" socially--in the kitchen. Jesus understood Martha's dis-ease, and he named it. Jesus saw the real issue--Martha's clinging to social conventions, her fear and reluctance to engage spiritually with the gospel. Rather than let her go on as before, and he confronted her with an implicit invitation.

In his words to Martha, Jesus called her, too. "You are worried and distracted by many things", Jesus said, "there is need of only one thing." Mary had chosen that one thing--accepting Jesus' call and abiding in the spirit with her Lord. With his gentle, but challenging, words, Jesus gave Martha the invitation and the permission to do as Mary had done.

Our short text from Luke carries a truth as powerful--and unsettling--now as it was then. Far different from God the stranger who passed by Abraham's house to deliver a message, Jesus comes to enter our lives personally--still today. Defying present-day "reason" as he defied conventions in his own time, Jesus comes to dwell with us, to know us, to teach us, to love us. Jesus holds up a mirror to us so that we can see the human frailty that separates us from God. Unfazed by our fidgeting, anxiety, and busy-ness, Jesus invites us to be his disciples: gently, firmly, persistently. And Jesus waits--as long as it takes--for us to come sit at his feet.