Tuesday of the Twenty-seventh Week in Ordinary Time

Lectionary: 462

Mary has chosen the better part

and it will not be taken from her.”

Who would not sympathize with Martha in her predicament? Overwhelmed by an unexpected household of guests who have come to listen to the Lord, she knows they expect to be fed. They will be hungry. They have entered a house large enough to accommodate a significant crowd; it's obviously a residence for wealthy people. A silent question lurks in the assembly, "When do we eat?"

Perhaps, when they arrived -- maybe only a few which number unexpectedly grew as others appeared -- she had offered to feed them. But that was a handful. This was a houseful!

And there was her witless sister Mary sitting at the Master's feet, rapt in devotion and blissfully unconscious of Martha's distress.

It was too much!

Perhaps Jesus sensed something was up. The banging and crashing in the next room kitchen might be a signal. So he was not completely caught off guard when the Wrath descended.

Saint Luke doesn't tell us how Martha responded to Jesus' gentle rebuke. He was more interested in the teaching, "the better part would not be taken from Mary." I suppose we have to leave her there, confident that the Church has canonized both women because they loved the Lord and he loved them.

In the hospital ministry, I meet people who have suddenly, unexpectedly been handed Mary's "better part." In most cases, the Veterans I meet are well cared for. Some live with disabilities and chronic illness but do not face imminent death. With longer life expectancy and subsidized retirement, they have been given the unwanted gift of idle time. They might feel useless, unneeded and unnecessary. They knew how to play the role of Martha; now they are invited to play Mary's part, to sit beside the Lord at his feet, listening to him speak. 

Listening is a learned skill and challenging work. In its purest form listening creates space for another person in one's heart. We don't listen to agree or disagree. We might learn something but we're not especially interested in facts, data, or information. The listener wants knowledge; not so much about the person as of the person. A listener says, "Tell me yourself."

We find Mary sitting at Jesus' feet. She listens but she doesn't seem to be asking questions. She wants to know whatever he will say. He fascinates her. She is fastened to him.

Prayer is like that. I see it in the congregation when they attend Mass. I remind myself, "They're here to love the Lord in the attentive silence of their hearts. They're not here for the homily. That's like a commercial break, necessary perhaps, but don't drag it out. " 

The rosary is like that. We recite the words over and over, we glance at the mysteries as they go by, but mostly we just like to pray. We're with our Lord and the Lord is with us. Perhaps, as we pray, the Spirit of God is rearranging the furniture in our heart, and healing old wounds. We might never notice, or only years later, that we forgot that grudge and dropped that opinion. They were too much baggage and the Silent One threw them out while we weren't looking.

With the growing population of retired septuagenarians, octogenarians, nonagenarians, and centenarians, millions of people now sit with Mary at the feet of Jesus and listen to his words. This is an enormous blessing for the whole church for they have chosen the better part.