Me neither. But in reading Luke 10:38-42 this week, suddenly I pictured Martha turning to her sister Mary onstage and complaining, "Jesus always liked you better!"
After all, while on a vist to Martha's house, Jesus praises Mary for sitting and listening to him as he teaches, and when Martha complains that she is having to do all the work, and insists that Mary should help her, Jesus all but says to her, "Why can't you be more like Mary?"
Ouch!
Martha doesn't mention what kind of work she is doing. Yet many readers, including me, imagine that she is likely cooking a meal for the three of them, out in the kitchen, with pots and pans clanking and clattering.
Perhaps it was too taboo, not even thinkable, for Martha to ask Jesus to help her with the cooking? In another gospel account, Jesus cooks fish over an open fire on the beach and serves breakfast to the disciples. He cooks!
But taboos against women's equality were as strong back then as they are today. Martha doesn't invite Jesus to help with the cooking. Instead, she tries to get him to tell Mary to help her.
Then Martha dares to ask Jesus her most important question: "Do you not care? Don't you care at all about me?"
Jesus doesn't answer with a mere yes or no. He shows Martha then and there that he cares profoundly about her. Jesus has noticed how upset she is. Jesus is attuned to Martha's distress. He has been teaching Mary, who is sitting attentively at his feet. And now he is presented with an opportunity to teach Martha also.
"Martha, Martha," Jesus says, and I hear him say this to her in a tone of gentle affection and respect. "You are "worried and distracted by many things." Yes. Martha sounds anxious--and also at least a little angry. Jesus does care. And he wants to help. Jesus wants to give Martha a spiritual practice that she can call upon not only for that day but for all the days yet to come.
Jesus invites Martha to shift her focus from the "many things" to just "one thing." It's not that cooking is not as important as spiritual inquiry or teaching. It's that becoming immersed in whatever we are doing calms us and lets us connect with our joy.
Jesus reveals the world of difference between our getting caught up in the "many things" that pull at our attention and our getting connected with the "one thing" we are doing right now. Can we be so fully present with our "one thing" that we feel our breathing deepen, our jaw unclench, our heart rate slow, and our spirits rise?
One moment of true connection leads to the next, and the next, and this can interrupt our worry habits. Such an interruption can change us, and change how we relate to each other.
For instance, what if becoming absorbed in "one thing" at a time slows Martha's pace, and the meal begins to be delayed? What if Mary and Jesus begin to get hungry? And then... What if Martha looks up through the curtain of steam in her kitchen to find her two dear ones appearing at her elbows, ready to share in her work--and her joy? Once worry is no longer the center of attention, who can predict how life might begin to shift for this special threesome of friends?
Together, at table, blessed by their food and prayers and laughter, knowing for sure that each one cares deeply--this is how I picture Mary, Martha, and Jesus at the end of that day.