It Doesn’t Have to Be Mary OR Martha

Seek balance.

Last Sunday, our pastor preached on Mary and Martha. When I saw the scripture in the bulletin, I heaved a great sigh. I get so sick of people praising Mary and putting Martha down. In part, this is because I identify with Martha. I’m a do-er. But it is also because I suspect that most of the people condemning Martha benefit from someone like Martha.

And our minister acknowledged this. In his mind, every successful church exists because of the women who serve meals, clean the building, help with mailings, or whatever.

That said, I had never considered the full implications of Mary listening at Christ’s feet. I had forgotten that women were not allowed to study the Torah. In fact, one rabbi who lived shortly after Christ stated that rather than let women study the Torah, it should be burned.

Now, think about that for a moment.

Female labor is good. Female knowledge is not. This is an idea that many of us are familiar with but we tend to forget that we’ve heard it all before when we listen to this passage. I only realized as I was writing this that although I identify with Martha, I am a lot like Mary. My curiosity knows no bounds. How strange that it was only today that I realized how like Mary I am.

Whether you naturally identify more with Mary or with Martha, what we all really need is to strive for balance. We need the Martha. There’s no doubt about that because it is Martha who gets things done, but we also need Mary to listen for the voice of Christ.

Without Mary, we have no discernment. Without Martha, we will be limited in what we accomplish. To be effective, we need to find within ourselves a bit of both.

–SueBE

Hurts Down to the Bone

I once heard a doctor describe illness as an external trauma that the body has absorbed. Literally, our bodies take in the bad things that happen to us and convert them into sickness. “What kind of New Age nonsense is this?” I wondered.

But he was right.

The trauma I experienced in the first three months of this year came home to roost in the second three. Cellulitis, respiratory infections, back problems, pneumonia — you name it, I had it. I was a fixture at my doctor’s office. I visited the ER. I underwent two ultrasounds and a CT scan. I took four courses of antibiotics, all different. I slept sitting up for two months.

I’m much better now. Really. But I’ve become a believer in the body-mind connection. If you don’t take care of the things that hurt you emotionally, your body will be forced to contend with them in various, very physical disguises. What hurts your soul can also hurt your body. My advice? Pour out your pain to any listening ear you can find. Ideally, you should find a professional, but barring that, talk to someone: a friend, a relative, a spiritual advisor, your spouse. And, of course, you can always pray it out.

I am the worse for wear.
So are we all, trapped as we are
in fragile flesh, prone to pelting
by the nettles of nature, the stings
of our very need for each other.
Bad love hurts to the bone.
Grace still heals, miraculous as mud
daubed on a blind eye, sudden as touching
the hem of a cloak. You will hurt,
but you will change, cell by cell,
into something stronger.
You may not see it now. But believe.
Bones ache as they grow;
so do souls.