FORGOT TO DO THE ONE THING

My usual morning devotional time got severely curtailed today. Having driven four hours home from Richmond yesterday, and having to unpack and catch up from being out of town, I was ruing that this was the weekend that an hour was being taken from everyone. I really could've used that extra sixty minutes of sleep, I told myself, as I rolled myself out of bed.

I had to return my rental car this morning, and, since I was helping serve communion, I'd have to put on a shirt and tie. After the morning service, I hit the drugstore on the way home to pick up some batteries for our smoke detectors. I got home and replaced the batteries, and checked the two fire extinguishers we have in the house. While I was on my way up and down the stairs, I used the opportunity to return things to their proper place: laundry down to the basement, measuring tape back to the toolbox, and a ladder up and then down the stairs, to reach one of the smoke detectors.

Finally, I sat down at my desk, at around 1:30pm. I opened my Bible to the place I had gotten to in Luke, even while I was considering what I wanted to eat for lunch and what other errands needed to be done before the day ended. I moved my eyes to the passage. Luke 10:38-42. Of course. The story of Martha and Mary.

Martha's doing exactly what a woman was expected to do back in the day when company came over: get something ready to eat in the kitchen, all the while doing a little tidying up. Mary's doing exactly what a woman was not expected to do back in the day when company came over: be among the men. She's at Jesus' feet, no less: not even not keeping herself from the group, but being right up front. Scandalous! Martha bangs the pots a few times to get everyone's attention, and finally, exasperated, appeals to Jesus: "Tell Mary to get in here and do what she's supposed to do!"

Far from doing so, Jesus gently assures Martha that she's doing too much, and that Mary, actually, is in the right. Imagine that. And me, after a Martha-like morning, in the midst of a Martha-like life, I had to pause myself and think about that. For all my responsibilities and worries and activities, do I really believe that the one necessary thing to do is to sit at Jesus' feet? As an urban Christian, I must; for the needs are great, and without time at the feet of our Master, we are destined to be as exasperated, frustrated, and embittered as Martha. May we be more like Mary, for the pleasure of our God and for the sustainability of our urban discipleship.

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