Thankfulness: joy in the immediate and invested

Declaration 3:  The new creation that I am delights in her life in the present moment;

counting all of it as joy, whether immediate or invested. 

She is thankful for the totality of her life, and will delight in the treasures hidden therein.

Do not mistake me: there are times when joy is the furthest thing from the place I inhabit.  Or so it seems.   We’ve just concluded a series about elusive joy; the kind of joy that is solely the acknowledgment that God is sovereign.  There are seasons when this type of joy is the only rational response; when the present is so painful, so fraught with uncertainty, that all we want is for this season to end.  For resolution to come; for respite from our suffering.     

How will I feed the kids tomorrow?  Will they foreclose on the house?  What if he always chooses the internet over me?  Will the new cancer treatments work this time?  Will I ever see my son again?  What if tonight the phone rings, telling me that the tracks on my daughter’s arms finally took her life?

Conversely, it is easy to become lost in the day-to-day.  The mundane has such compelling power to pull one deep into mindless habit and joyless existence.  So that we seek to escape; we look for distraction from our lives, diversion from the space between the rising and setting sun.      

Make the bed, feed them breakfast, wash the dishes, rush off to school, do the laundry, buy the groceries, pick them up, make them dinner, get the homework is done, wash the dishes, mandate baths, get them into bed

Put on the tie, drive the same road, sit in the cubicle, listen to the same conversations, look at the same images, submit the same reports, drive home, mow the grass, take out the trash, go to bed

Just to do it over again the next day. 

How does one count it all as joy?  How do I find treasures hidden in my days, particularly when my days are monotonous or painful?

Cultivate a spirit of thankfulness (a la Ann Voskamp*). 

Now, I need you to know that I have spent years dedicated to one task alone: being the consummate perfect-joyful-Christian-woman.  The kind who rejoices over her laundry because it means her house is filled with family; or who prays over her dishes as she’s washing them because it means there was food to eat that day.  But I am not her anymore.  Because she wasn’t real in the first place.  Her thankfulness; this repetitive, resigned varietal formed in obligation and marinated in duty is not the kind of thankfulness of which I speak.**  For me, it was forced.  And fake.  It made me feel all kinds of inadequacy and guilt; because, in all honesty, I hate doing the dishes.  Plunging my hand into a sink full of dirty, food from someone else’s plate makes me gag.  Literally.  Laundry, cooking, cleaning all are activities for which I have no bent or desire.  And that’s okay.

No, the thankfulness to which I refer is one borne from a realization of whom I worship: the Almighty and Everlasting God.  And who I am: a sinner, in desperate need of saving.  Every day.  This truth  allows me to see the mundane as gifts, to find joy in the times of trial; to be genuinely grateful for every breath.  This thankfulness does not require that I enjoy every task before me; but allows me to rest in the knowledge that the God who spoke the universe into existence knows me.  Knows that I love the slivers of aspens with their twirling leaving dancing on autumnal winds and that they make me feel freedom in my chest and that I’d rather be out among them than cooped up inside up to my elbows in dish water.  Knows that words and music and touch are the ways in which my soul is revived from this dark and fallen world.  Knows my propensity for rebelling, for wandering, and loves me anyway. 

This kind of thankfulness allows me to be honest: if today sucks, I can say so.  But I can end like the psalmist, trusting in God’s sovereignty over the crappy times.  I can freely thank God for the mundane days, without treating him as the distant relative who really doesn’t know what I like, thus sends me gifts ill-fitting my person and personality; but for which I must be grateful anyway. It allows me to say, on the days of repetition, that God is enough; and His presence in my life is the greatest gift.  And when the days are good, I can rejoice with a pure heart; praising the God from which they came and for the delight they ignite in me.

 Know that some seasons are investments towards future joy. 

The hard times usually are for strengthening us.  For drawing me nearer to the throne of grace and the foot of the cross than I would have come in times of plenty.  When the tears I spill on brittle ground do not even hint at a coming harvest; and the waiting draws the strength from my veins until I cannot remember what life feels like anymore; so long as I stay mindful of whom I worship, and who I am, I can count every moment as an investment in a greater joy to come.      

And some are for immediate reaping.

When joy is all around you.  When you can feel it in your breath and catch hold of it in your bones.  When the sun delights upon your face; and snow rains love upon your head.  When you want to do nothing but dance and sing and hold perfectly still to keep this moment for as long as you can, all at the same time.  When the light playing off her hair mines tears from my eyes; and his laughter rouses my own.  When the kisses come soft and slow, dizzyingly true with perfect intent.  When laughter is the soundtrack of my days; and their pace marked by the comings and goings of beloved members; then the joy in my heart should overwhelm me, so that thankfulness is instinctual. 

 

I will find joy in every day, by finding God. 

I will be thankful for the moments which comprise my life,

for I have but the one. 

Knowing that if I seek first the Lord,

my life will be filled with the things in which my heart delights.

 

 

 

* Though as I read her blog today, I see she and I do not share the same view on monotony.  But that’s okay.  God made some wild and some meant to be domesticated; some delight in routine and take their rest in familiar practices.  Both are beautiful.

** By all means, if this practice will cultivate a thankful heart in you, do it!  And even if it doesn’t, I don’t think it’s a bad idea to be thankful for these things every once in a while, to attune one’s attention to how good we really do have it.  To find God’s handiwork even in the quiet and predictable moments. 

How a Servant is to Serve, a lesson from Mary and Martha

Martha and Mary by He Qi Chin

I’ve been Martha.  Not in the way you’d expect, the doing-all-the-things-because-I’m-a-beaver manner.  But in that I feel this unexplainable weight to meet the androcentric expectations of my more patristic brethren.  I’ve held my tongue, when I knew it was not what was being required of me at the moment, in settings where more traditional believers facilitated the gathering.  And I’ve relied on men to speak for me in similar settings, when I knew my job was to speak up for myself, or on behalf of sisters who had been belittled into silence.  I’ve hastily back-pedaled when asked if I desire to or was teaching God’s Word; and I’ve looked demurely at the floor, dying a little bit on the inside, instead of challenging the ideals spouted by denominational leaders. 

I’ve been Martha.  Distracted too much with the worry of how other people will react to my intentions or actions, to sit at my Master’s feet and quietly, though publicly, declare that I will be His student, so that I may be a teacher of His way to others.  Worried about the hard work of having to defend why I think what I’m doing is scriptural, why women should be permitted to behave thus.  Worried at the reaction towards my husband, who leans a little more closely to the traditional way of doing things than me.  Worried that my ministry or my voice or even the person for whom I’m advocating might suffer unnecessarily for my brazen speech.  Worried with the details of service, of how things will come off; because these events will reflect on me as a leader and my ability thereto.  Worried.  To the point of distraction, so that I’ve missed my Master’s presence in these beautiful moments. 

And because of this, I find that I might have more in common with Martha than Mary.

The Sisters at Bethany: Luke 10:38-42

As we mentioned on Thursday, By sitting at Jesus’ feet, Mary is signaling her intention to become a teacher herself; and Jesus declares that she is right to do so.[1]   However, if this is the sole intent of this narrative, Mary’s theological education comes at the expense of Martha.[2]  To counter the seeming unfairness towards Martha, Veronica Koperski proffers the theory that it is not Martha’s busyness that is being chastised, but her anxiety.[3]

The weight of this idea falls mostly on the translation of the Greek verb “diakouew” from verse 40.  According to Klaus Hess, in this particular passage, it means “service at a table;” however, this word occurs 34 times in the New Testament and in every use except this one, it implies “service, office, aid, support, distribution (of alms, etc.), office of a deacon.”[4]  In fact, Koperski contends that because of its usage in other New Testament passages, it is “not exclusively associated with table service, and the text gives no indication that a meal is involved.”[5]  In particular, she references a later passage in Luke 22:25-27 were this word expresses “the epitome of Jesus’ mission” and notes that “Jesus does not actually serve a meal, but charges his disciples to adopt the attitude of ‘one who serves.’”[6] Warren Carter asserts this position, noting that

in six of its eight occurrences in Acts diakonia indicates leadership and proclamation on behalf of God or of the church and the gospel.  In two of the six the administration and provision of material relief for those in need are indicated without separation of these tasks from the tasks of leadership and proclamation.  Partnership with others in the acts of ministry pervades all eight texts, as does the sense of ministering as the representative of God or of the church…thus [it] does not designate domestic or culinary activity.[7]

The question then becomes, why in this instance only does this verb refer to waiting tables?  Is it only because its subject is specifically female and could therefore offer no other service?  If this is the case, certainly Jesus’ words that Mary has choose the better portion indicates that becoming his student trumps domestic obligations.  On the other hand, both Carter and Koperski contend that Mary and Martha were involved, at some level, in local church leadership.  Carter posits that Martha’s anxiety stems from the exultant doing of this ministry, while Koperski attributes the worry to her feeling of being pulled away from her service therein, by the disapproval of others.[8]  While both theories certainly place more weight on Martha’s potential ministerial duties and make her seem less like a petulant child, neither can be adequately proven from the text itself. Yet, neither can a simplistic outburst concerning the unfair distribution of domestic duties.  What remains are Jesus’ words that Mary “has chosen the good portion, which will not be taken away from her” (10:42). 

Thus however you read this particular word for service, as domestic in only this one instance or as service for the kingdom, the good portion for which Mary is lauded is: being aware of her Lord’s presence, of abandoning what is culturally expected to spend her time with him, soaking up his presence and his teaching even if it is socially unacceptable.  Because those are the only things that will sustain a servant of any ilk. 

I must encourage you: sit at Jesus’ feet, soak up His presence, and learn from Him through reading God’s Word.  Be prepared to share what you have learned, to freely give what you have freely been given.  And when societal boundaries seem to rise up against what you’re doing, cross them.  Like a rebel who hails from a kingdom where your King delights in eliminating the walls that keep us from Him.    

Enjoying this study?  Here's a link to other articles in this series: The Women Who Knew Jesus

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[1]Wright, N. T., Bishop of Durham.  “Women’s Service in the Church: The Biblical Basis.”  Conference paper for the Symposium “Men, Women and the Church,” St John’s College, Durham, September 4 , 2004.   www.ntwrightpage.com/Wright_Women_Service_Church.htm
[2]Veronica Koperski.  “Women and Discipleship in Luke 10:38-42 and Acts 6:1-7: The Literary Context of Luke-Acts.”  A Feminist Companion to Luke.  ed. Amy-Jill Levine with Marianne Blickenstaff, 161-196.  New York: Sheffield Academic Press, 2002, page 183.
[3] Ibid, 195.
[4] Colin Brown, ed., New International Dictionary of New Testament Theology, vol 3 (Grand Rapides: Zondervan, 1986), s.v. “Serve, Deacon, Worship,” by K. Hess.   
[5] Koperski, “Women and Discipleship,” 183.
[6] Ibid, 182.
[7] Carter, Warren. “Getting Martha out of the Kitchen: Luke 10.38-24 Again.”  A Feminist Companion to Luke.  ed. Amy-Jill Levine with Marianne Blickenstaff, 215-231.  New York: Sheffield Academic Press, 2002.  Originally published in CBQ 56 (1996): 264-280, page 222.
[8]Carter, “Getting Martha Out,” 230; Koperski, “Women and Discipleship,” 185.

Scarring Culture

My mother works with wood.  She is  less carpenter, more artisan, who attends the warmth of her organic medium with the tenderness of, well, a mother.  Her handiwork fills the homes of our family in the form of beds and tables, desks and mantles.  She has asserted, as one who has seen the effects of this mistake, that when sanding a piece, bringing its glow to the surface, turning the wood satin beneath her fingers, that to go against the grain scars the wood.  It leaves the wood marked and sets it apart from the rest of the piece.  Thus the colloquialism, “against the grain” can be taken to mean a scarring of culture, a change that is counter to the status quo.  A way of doing, a way of being, that is revolutionary; and can change the culture in which the action occurs.

So it is with two sisters, in their home in Bethany.  One adhering to the normative cultural practices of her day; the other, flouting them.  And Jesus saying the later has chosen the better way.         

The Sisters at Bethany: Luke 10:38-42

Returning to the text, we find that immediately before Jesus dines at the home of Martha and Mary, 70 disciples have returned.  Jesus, having sent them out to tell of his works and mission, rejoices and offers a prayer of thanksgiving.  Then in answer to a  lawyer’s question, Jesus gives the parable of the Good Samaritan (10:17-37).  The thrust of this parable turns the expected worldview of a Jewish lawyer on its head by insinuating that the law requires one to love God and people, even one’s enemies.  Jesus, in verse 37 then admonishes the lawyer to “go and do likewise.”  The command of “do” insinuating action; which is important when considering that within a few verses it appears that Martha is rebuked for “doing,” where Mary is seemingly lauded for not doing.   Following this teaching, Jesus and his disciples leave their current town and head into Bethany. 

Once in Bethany, Jesus and his disciples are welcomed into the home of Martha.  There is some disagreement between scholars as to whether this particular abode is the location of a house church or merely her home.  (The Greek, οἰκίαν, means house and Luke’s use of the singular, feminine, genitive ending implies that the home is a possession of Martha.[1]  Therefore, if it is the site of a home church, Martha could be considered the leader thereof.)  Whether a house church or not, Martha opens her home to Jesus willingly.  With the Lord and his disciples inside, Martha’s sister, Mary, “sat at the Lord’s feet listening to what he had to say,” while Martha is “distracted with much serving” (10:39-40).  Martha then questions Jesus’ allowance of Mary’s seeming abdication of domestic duties; and Jesus responds to her by saying that Mary has chosen “the good portion which will not be taken away from her” (10:42).

source

This passage has been the crux of generations of debate regarding gender roles within the home and the church; both Mary and Martha having been cast as archetypes for contemplative and service-oriented lives, as well as exemplars of what women are not and are permitted to do within the context of ecclesiastical service, respectively.  (That the NIV renders verse 40 as “distracted by all the preparations that had to be made,” advances an a priori theory of a domestic origin, thereby subtly negating other legitimate catalysts for Martha’s distraction.)  However, most scholars do agree Mary’s reclining at Jesus’ feet is radical for the first century; and it is this behavior that causes Martha’s offense.  Bishop Tom Wright claims that “no doubt [Martha] was cross at being left to do all the work, but the real problem behind that was that Mary had cut clean across one of the most basic social conventions.”[2]  Why?  Because Mary would be sitting at Jesus’ feet in the male part of the house, instead of remaining in the back rooms with the other women.  Bishop Wright likens this behavior to a Western, twenty-first century guest following their host into his or her bedroom at night to sleep there, instead of staying in the guest bedroom made up for that very purpose.  First century Jewish women were generally not permitted in the men’s areas unless they were serving food.  Thus Mary’s positioning herself there warrants the audience’s attention.

By situating herself at Jesus’ feet, Mary is not only flouting her culture, but also asserting herself as a student of Jesus.  Mary would not act thus merely for self-fulfillment, nor simply to soak up her beloved teacher’s presence; instead, Mary is doing this in order than she may be a rabbi (“teacher”) herself.  Bishop Wright references Paul’s relationship with Gamaliel to illustrate this concept; emphasizing that in the first century, learning for the sake of learning was not an occupation entered into by the common person.  By sitting at Jesus’ feet, Mary is signaling her intention to become a teacher herself; and Jesus declares that she is right to do so.[3]      

As he illustrated in the parable of the Good Samaritan, Jesus allowing Mary to sit at his feet as a student and then telling Martha that her sister has indeed chosen the better way, the Lord is showing his followers how his Kingdom is to affect their comfortable ways of living.  In radical and counter-cultural ways.  Those who have been prohibited from learning and teaching now are welcomed as equals with their brethren.  Those who are unclean, as the Samaritan woman and the man in Christ’s parable, are now made equally clean and included in Christ.  Thus, Mary’s theological education does not come at the expense of Martha; rather the allowance of Mary to sit at Jesus’ feet is a liberation for them both.[4]  They are freed from solely domestic contributions to ministerial service that is unparalleled in their day.[5] 

A revelation which will become even more crystalline as we look at the Greek on Tuesday.

Enjoying this study?  Here's a link to other articles in this series:  The Women Who Knew Jesus

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[1] Warren Carter, “Getting Martha out of the Kitchen: Luke 10.38-24 Again,” in A Feminist Companion to Luke, ed. Amy-Jill Levine with Marianne Blickenstaff, (New York: Sheffield Academic Press, 2002), 215-231.  And Veronica Koperski, “Women and Discipleship in Luke,” in A Feminist Companion to Luke, ed. Amy-Jill Levine with Marianne Blickenstaff, (New York: Sheffield Academic Press, 2002), 161-196. 

[2] Bishop N.T. Wright, “Women’s Service in the Church: The Biblical Basis,” St John’s College, Durham, September 4 2004.

[3] Wright, “Women’s service in Church,” 2004.

[4] Koperski,Veronica.  “Women and Discipleship in Loke 10:38-42 and Acts 6:1-7: The Literary Context of Luke-Acts.”  A Feminist Companion to Luke.  ed. Amy-Jill Levine with Marianne Blickenstaff, 161-196.  New York: Sheffield Academic Press, 2002.” 183.

[5] Ibid, 195.

The Sisterly Squabble of Do-ers and Be-ers...Or is it?

Mary and Martha, origin

You know them; at least, you think you do.  They’re as oft mentioned as that woman lurking at the end of Proverbs.  Though, unlike her, they were real people.  These two sisters who have been the archetypes for Do-ers and Be-ers since the ink dried on the good doctor’s papyrus.    

                Mary & Martha: the Sister Servants, in Luke10:38-42

Not to be flippant (for this is God’s Word to which we attend), but there have been seasons in which I have heard more about these two sisters, in the context of women’s studies, than I have about Christ Himself.  And I will say, that as a quintessential Be-er, I always felt validated.  Those Martha’s out there needed to take note, stop doing so much.  The Lord Himself has said as much.  It made me feel, well, like I got it.  Haha.  But I have learned that when I feel this way about a passage of scripture, likely I don’t have it.  At all.    

But as I dig into the text, I don’t see two sisters, one the I-can’t-sit-still variety and the other a let’s-stop-and-smell-the-roses type, who are the archetypes against which we modern women should judge ourselves and one another.  When I look at the cultural and historical background of this story, I learn a bit more about who each of these women were; what they might actually have been doing, and why Jesus lauded one over the other.    

I know some of this may sound a little outside the traditional way this story is taught, particularly within the context of women’s studies.  But I think that may only be because that’s how our teachers have learned it, and how their teachers learned it, etc…  And when we look at the texts, dig into the original language, and place all of this against the first century Palestinian and Jewish backdrop, we see a little different picture.
   
For example…

What if I told you that the Greek verb “diakouew” from verse 40 is used 34 times in the New Testament, some of which are in reference to Jesus himself?  You’d probably look quizzically at me; until I mention that translators generally apply the following meanings to this word: “service, office, aid, support, distribution (of alms, etc.), office of a deacon."*  Except in this verse—the only time it is translated thus—translators say it means “service at a table."**  Domestic duties.  Why, when every other usage in the whole of scripture is does not mean that?  We’re going to address that question in our third session.     

For today, read the passage; read what comes immediately before these verses and what comes after.  Recognize that this story is only found in Luke’s gospel.  And like we did for our first reading of the Samaritian woman’s story, write a list of what is in the text; only facts that you can support with the words on the page—no suppositions, no inferences.  And then be prepared to look at what cultural and historical evidence tells us about the world in which these two women lived, and how the definition of one word turned one woman into a waitress for posterity. 

   

Enjoying this study?  Here's a link to other articles in this series: The Women Who Knew Jesus

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*Colin Brown, ed., New International Dictionary of New Testament Theology, vol 3 (Grand Rapides: Zondervan, 1986), s.v. “Serve, Deacon, Worship,” by K. Hess.

**Klaus Hess, "Serve, Deacon, Worship."