Tuesday, July 23, 2019


Distracted Living
By Griff Martin
A Sermon on Luke 10:38-42 and Colossians 1:15-28
For the Sixth Sunday Following Pentecost
July 21, 2019
To the Beloveds of First Austin: a baptist community of faith

Incarnate and Resurrected God, we ask that you once again take the Word and transform it into a living and breathing new reality we can all together experience. Make us aware of your presence here in this space and in these words God, for if we are present to you then nothing else will matter, but if we are not present to you then nothing else will matter. In the name of the Creator, the Christ and the Comforter.  Amen.

Some of you are already tense – it happened the minute you heard the first few words of this text, “and a woman named Martha welcomed him into her house.” You know what sermon is coming, and it’s going to be one during which you are shamed for being a Martha and for getting things done, but while getting things done, you miss Jesus. And this text has often been used to shame you and to shame the gifts you bring to us as a church. 

Let me assure you of this: we need you; we need Marthas because it’s the Marthas in this world who help the rest of us to see Jesus. Without you, we are all lost. So, to those of you who are the ones who actually bring food to the potluck, organize meetings, take notes at the meeting, volunteer here at the church, cook Midweek meals, teach Sunday school classes, basically keep things going… let me tell you this: First, thank you. You are doing exactly what you are supposed to be doing and I am not going to shame you or call you out this morning, and I apologize that this text has often been used as a weapon against you and your goodness. 

And while I am apologizing for the way we have often preached this text, let me offer this apology as well: I am sorry that we often view this text in such a binary fashion that it pits female against female; Mary against Martha. It seems in our very nature that we can’t have two women highlighted in a story without having some central conflict between them. Thus, our failure of imagination has resulted in a ‘Betty and Veronica fighting over Archie’ reading of this text instead of the ‘Ride or Die Thelma and Louise’ dynamic that is so present. 

This text is a non-binary text; a text that calls forth Mary and Martha, not Mary or Martha. 

What if we dive into this text refusing to shame Martha, refusing to pit woman against woman and acknowledging that our Christian journey takes both action and contemplation, doing and being? I think this is the way Jesus would have heard it since his ministry honored women, shamed none and was founded on the dynamic of both action and contemplation. 

We are in Luke’s Gospel and the pivotal phrase has already been used, Jesus has turned to head to Jerusalem, heading to what will be the climax of this story – a cross and an empty tomb. At this point in the text, the divine hourglass has turned over and the sand is falling as time runs out. I think Jesus knows something is on the horizon; there is an urgency to his ministry, and he is traveling fast now. Pay attention to Luke and look at the red letters. It’s the line from Hamilton, “why do you write like you’re running out of time?” Jesus begins to speak and teach and travel like he is running out of time. 

And I think his followers notice the difference. This happens when someone begins to truly live because they know their time is running out. We have all seen this before. It’s this sacred mix of taking delight, savoring each moment, sharing only the truths of life that must be shared and ignoring the mess and distraction. It’s the way we should all live every day. 

I had this experience once with a woman named Kathy who had severe cancer. Her sister was a dear friend of mine and active in church. Kathy was not, and vocally inactive in church, but to make her sister feel better she started letting me visit her once every two weeks. We would sit on the porch and talk. When it finally become inevitable, there was no further treatment, it was then she started living. She took all her friends to New Orleans and they did it right in terms of hotel, food and travel and staying up all night dancing on Bourbon Street and getting up way too early for beignets and brunch. I watched her stop caring about a great deal of things. She would tell me about something, say, a fight her friends were having or something she used to get anxious about, and then would say, “you know Griff, I just don’t have the time for that nonsense” (although the word she used was certainly not nonsense; I’ve cleaned it up a bit). And she started telling some profound truths, like one afternoon she said to me, “You know I’ve been praying. I say each night ‘God, I am far from perfect, but I think I did my best. Now it’s your turn to do your best with me.’” It might be one of the best prayers I have ever heard.

 It’s living as we are supposed to be living. 

So, when Jesus walks into the home of this family he so loves, he is living like that and the folks who know him best know that he is living like that. 

Which is beautiful to see, but also hard to experience because it means that something is on the line – a difficult truth that must be faced.

And sometimes we are really good at trying to do everything we can to avoid facing difficult truths. It’s why marriages can fall apart and end way before the divorce. It’s why we can sit at a family gathering and no one can talk about what is really going on. It’s why someone can be terminally ill, and we try to cheer them up by making plans for the future. We are really good with distractions; we actually thrive on them.

Just think about distracted driving. Who in here would rationally think about it and say, “you know, while driving my car 75 miles per hour down Mopac rushing to get to a meeting, I think that is the best time to look at Facebook and see my friend from elementary school who I have not seen since then. Let’s see how their vacation is going.” No, we know that is absurd thinking and yet I am not even about to ask for a show of hands for how many of us have used our phones will driving in the past month.

We distract easy. We fall for distractions. We create them, because we don’t like to face the hard and difficult truths. And don’t think of distractions as just food and booze – they certainly can be, but let’s be more honest – so is endlessly scrolling through our phones because nothing says distracted thinking like our endless scrolling and the fact that we touch our phones more than we touch one another. Or look at what we do here: we can talk about what God is doing in our world today and how we join God, or we could write a new committee manual on how we arrange the flowers for next year’s Easter service. Or look at our own lives – we can be nagging and criticizing someone else instead of looking in the mirror.

When faced with a difficult reality, many of us will always choose the easy distraction, or create the easy distraction. 

So, Jesus walks into this home – really, his home; this is the place he calls home, to relax and be restored. This is a place he knows well with a family that he can be himself around. It’s home. And yet, this time there is something different because of that divine hourglass and the way he is living.

Mary and Martha both notice it. 

And Martha decides that instead of acknowledging it, she is going to do everything she can. She goes to her drug of choice, which is a to-do list (this I know well. If you want to know my mental state, here is my litmus test: look how many items are on my to-do list and if it’s over 5, there is a good chance I am doing everything to avoid one thing).

Martha knows Jesus’ favorite foods; he loves olives on crusty bread and then pan grilled fish with rice flavored with saffron, and like all of us. he loves key lime pie. So, she will make him all those things and from scratch, including the pie crust. Martha wants to change the linens on the bed Jesus is sleeping in, so she goes to do that. Martha needs to change the towels in the guest bath. Martha wants to make sure the guest room is clean. Martha knows Jesus loves fresh flowers by the bed and that his laundry has not been done in a few weeks. Martha wants to create a space where Jesus can relax and restore. So, the minute he walks in, she notices something is different, and instead of turning to face the hard truth that this might very well be the last time Jesus is in her home, she instead starts her to-do list.

And her sister Mary senses it. too, but she chooses not to distract herself with a to-do list. Instead, she sits and faces the hard truth, and decides to soak up every minute she has left. The dishes can be done later. 

Martha does not like this, and finally she marches in because she has found one more distraction, her very sister. “Jesus, do you not care that my sister has left me to do everything all by myself? Tell her to help me.” 

And Jesus pauses, and I personally think this pause makes all the difference in the world. Jesus looks up and with those eyes that can see right to the heart, Jesus knows exactly what Martha is doing. It’s a pause I know well, because I have experienced it when I am finally at my wits end, and instead of adding to the to-do list, I finally surrender and pause and pray, and there I find Jesus looking straight into my heart: “you poor fool, you’ve done it again.”

And after the pause, “Martha, Martha you are anxious and troubled about many things, but only one is necessary.”

You see, the sermon I have often received about this text is that busy is bad and we need to pause and be still and sit at the feet of Jesus. Which I think probably has its merits but is better preached in other places in our book. Also, sitting at the feet of Jesus is part of what we are to do, but if we all only sit, we are not going to get anywhere. 

I don’t think Jesus is scolding Martha for being busy; I actually don’t think Jesus is scolding her for anything. Instead I think Jesus sees her distraction and sees what she is missing and calls her to more. 

I wonder how often Jesus looks at our lives and our calendars and journals and checkbooks and says to us, “Oh sweetheart, sweetheart you are anxious and troubled by many things, but only one is necessary.”

I wonder how often Jesus looks at 901 Trinity and our calendars and checkbooks and committee manuals and strategic plans and shakes his head saying to us, “Oh beloveds, beloveds you are anxious and troubled by many things, but only one is necessary.”

And that one thing… well, it’s the same one thing Jesus spent his life and ministry teaching us to do: love God. Love others and love ourselves. It takes both being and doing; action and contemplation. It takes a single mind free of distractions.

Which means putting down the phone. It means not creating something else to do. It means choosing not to go to the easy numbing buttons we all know so well in our lives. It might even mean saying ‘no’ to something here at church that might distract you.

Because here is how I see this scene playing out today. I see Jesus walking into another home – this one is a bit bigger but it’s just about as non-traditional as three grown adult siblings living together – this one is at 901 Trinity Street. There is a hodge-podge of people who are a lot like Mary and Martha – some are distracted, and some are sitting in the sanctuary space. And there are a lot of hard truths to face; the world around them is not quite close to the Kingdom of God. In fact, it seems to be falling apart.

It’s a world where children continue to be separated from their parents and some might never be reunited. A world where, if the family does get into our country, they are going to be put on a long list of immigration cases facing the court, almost 825,000 cases, and we don’t seem concerned about finding funds to pay more judges to get folks the justice they deserve. It’s a world where we are more worried about the mess some of our neighbors might make instead of the fact that they don’t have a bed to sleep in tonight. It’s a world where nuclear war that could end us all is always a possibility, and yet we do nothing. It’s a world where we are seeing and hearing every form of ism: sexism, racism, heterosexism, classism, genderism, ableism – and we are seeing way too many churches and so-called Christ-followers remaining silent; too distracted by the many things to care about the one thing.

It’s not easy to face. 

And Jesus might walk in and see the same problem – distraction after distraction to avoid the one thing.

And the words might come out of his mouth once again: “Beloveds, beloveds you are anxious and troubled about the wrong thing… only one thing is necessary: my Kingdom on this earth. So, come let me hug you and then get out there and go about the work. You have sat at my feet enough and there will be times to gather and sit at my feet once again, but today is the time to do.”

Or maybe he would point us to the words of Paul in our Epistle reading this morning:  

“There’s a lot of suffering to be entered into in this world—the kind of suffering Christ takes on. I welcome the chance to take my share in the church’s part of that suffering. When I became a servant in this church, I experienced this suffering as a sheer gift, God’s way of helping me serve you, laying out the whole truth.

This mystery has been kept in the dark for a long time, but now it’s out in the open. God wanted everyone, not just Jews, to know this rich and glorious secret inside and out, regardless of their background, regardless of their religious standing. The mystery in a nutshell is just this: Christ is in you, so therefore you can look forward to sharing in God’s glory. It’s that simple. That is the substance of our Message. We preach Christ, warning people not to add to the Message. We teach in a spirit of profound common sense so that we can bring each person to maturity. To be mature is to be basic. Christ! No more, no less. That’s what I’m working so hard at day after day, year after year, doing my best with the energy God so generously gives me.”

First Austin, First Austin you are anxious about many things, distracted by many things… but only one is necessary – Christ! No more, no less.

Amen and Amen.

*artwork: One Thing, Painting by Scott Freeman, freemanartgallery.com

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