Who in your life is a stranger? The baby in the womb that has been judged unwanted? The person with a different political position or opinion? The immigrant next door who plays his music loud? The lady with a flat nose and thick ascent whom you hardly understand her gibberish English? Do you know that there’re blessings associated with tolerating or appreciating them, welcoming and treating them as fellow humans like yourself? The Psalmist declares, “Indeed, you shall receive blessings from the Lord and reward from the God who saves you” (Psalm 15). The blessings of Sarah, Abraham, Martha, Mary and Lazarus shall be yours.
When you listen to the scripture passages of this Sunday, the theme of hospitality clearly jumps out. In the first reading, Sarah and Abraham welcomed three strangers they didn’t know were God’s angels. The gospel recounts how Martha and her sister Mary welcomed the Lord to their home. The Psalm sings of righteousness as consisting of generosity, justice and goodwill toward others. And the second reading from Colossians encourages bearing others’ sufferings, especially the foreigners, the gentiles, and the weak. While some wall off the stranger and the weak, we learn from the Lord that welcoming the stranger always brings a blessing. We would be foolish, though, to care-freely throw our doors open this time when some are crossings our borders with the intent to hurt; yet, that does not excuse us from hospitality. We cannot hide under security to live as though charity to the stranger is something odd.
We must not only welcome the stranger but do so in love, with generosity and boldness, like Martha and Mary. These two women were clearly in love with Jesus, and he treated their crushes with respect and affection. I bet dirty minds gossiped about Jesus’ relationship with them. Crucial to the mystery of the incarnation is the expectation that Jesus, the incarnate Word of God, had to be found in a family context, in domestic scenes, with people he loved and who loved him. The parents of the girls were presumably deceased, leaving only their brother Lazarus to fend for all. At this visit, it was clear that Lazarus was not home; he worked so hard that he fell sick and died, prompting the Lord to come back and miraculously raise him from the dead.
In Jesus’ visit to Mary and Martha, a message is presented to us: that Jesus indeed had friends, and visited them. But the manner of hospitality for the two women differed. Without over-analyzing the perspectives, we easily notice that for Martha, service comes first, while for Mary, relationship is first. Who is right? Both are right. If the question, however, is: “which is better?” Jesus answers: “Mary has chosen the better part.” But the better part is not the only part. Martha’s kind of service is always admirable and even invaluable. It should however not become self-gratifying and an excuse to neglect being available to others or bending the knee in prayer. When my excuse for missing Mass on a Sunday is because I was helping with the pancake-breakfast, attending to a guest visiting from out of town, or working hard to feed my family, I’m a Martha. Service devoid of prayer is self-indulgent. The Greek philosopher, Aristotle warns that “the vice of doing too much is the enemy of spirituality.”
We are not to choose between a Martha and a Mary. True friends and disciples of the Lord are both Martha and Mary at the same time. Similarly, in our relationship with our children, our friends and spouse, we must balance the Mary and Martha in us. Don’t work so hard to provide for your children and spouse that you do not have time to relax, play, and pray with them. In a bid to put food on the table some have become total strangers to their family and to God. Service and prayer must go hand in hand. Prayer makes service humble and gratuitous. Service without prayer soon becomes prideful and self-serving.
Fr. Chukwudi Jo Okonkwo