Extreme Hospitality
Martha has troubled my soul. Rather, my perceived kinship
with St. Martha, as in the sister of Mary and Lazarus, has resulted in an
insidious hatred of the thing that a devotion to this saint purportedly should
develop: hospitality and the giving over of oneself to assist others in their
mundane needs. Over the last few years, as part of my self-prescribed spiritual
development, I have dedicated parts of my inner and outer selves to certain
saints. Martha has been a central character in this practice and I have
recently discovered that this beleaguered saint needs to be reconsidered.
Don’t get me wrong; Martha is not all bad or even bad at
all. I have even previously written about Martha as being able to “… hold faith and get a job done.” Her abilities
in these arenas have made her one of my favorites. But something was just not
quite right.
Dishes need to be done? Sure! I will tackle them! Laundry?
No problem! Need a refill on that wine? Why not? After all, I was attempting to
invite the spirit of Martha into all of my entertaining and caretaking.
But wait, what is this? Screw the dishes! Do your own damn
laundry! Need more alcohol? Get it yourself! The shadow side of Martha! Oh,
poor Martha! Even Jesus said she had it all wrong. Seriously, even Jesus? And
the resentful feelings crept in. A dark cloud was reigning over my hospitality
and at times souring my perception of my family, friends and guests. This was
not right and I knew it.
Some feminist theologians have mused that Jesus was actually
cautioning Martha to not take the “traditional” female role and to instead
branch out just as Mary, at his feet listening, did. He was encouraging her to
be a true disciple and that his admonishments were only to help her see the
bigger, revolutionary picture of the Gospel.
With this concept I began to consider the woman with the
alabaster jar who showed up in Bethany to anoint Jesus’ feet with expensive oil
and her tears. Some speculate that this was Mary Magdalene, often being
portrayed as the sinful woman holding a container of nard. This Mary gave all
she had. Not only did she pour out an entire jar of costly oil but also gave up
her shame to show her love of the incarnate God. Ultimately, not only was she
forgiven but was praised by Jesus, a total juxtaposition to Martha. The woman
with the alabaster jar conferred the type of hospitality that I had been
searching for. A whole sacrifice to the personified God, at a dinner party no
less.
No shame.
No concern for expense.
No resentment.
Complete acceptance and love pouring in and flowing out.
Poor Martha.
I have pondered this story and torn it apart and found that,
presently Martha should be reverently shelved. My bastion of extreme
hospitality is currently the sinful woman in Bethany with that empty vessel,
who loved the God in human form to give Him everything without bitterness.
I hope to feel the same way about those who enter my home.
