0223 MARTYR, MARTYR

MARTYR, MARTYR

Have you heard about Martha, the sister of Mary and Lazarus? She was quite a woman. A true disciple of Jesus, and the second person ever to give The Great Confession. Of course, Peter was the first, and he gets all the credit for it—on this rock, and all that. But Martha also said out loud that she believed Jesus was the Christ, and we don’t make such a big deal about it. (It’s like being the second man on the moon. Only she was a woman. And she wasn't on the moon.)

Anyway, I was saying that Martha was quite a woman. I imagine her to have been the oldest of twelve kids in her family. And Martha, being firstborn, helped her momma raise all of them from the time she was three. She was always the responsible one. Responsible to a fault, you might say. Working like nobody's business. Sometimes getting a might touchy about it, too. Some of the disciples got to calling her Martyr. Just for fun. They weren’t laughing at her, understand; they were just laughing with her. Except she wasn't laughing. Or smiling, for that matter, come to think of it.

Anyway, Somehow Jesus knew the family well. Perhaps they had been neighbors and friends with Jesus and His family back in Nazareth. Or they met through Johnny the D or the yearly visits to Jerusalem that Jesus made with his family.

Martyr’s little brother, Russell, was real good buddies with Jesus when they were growing up. Now, Russ, well, Russ was good at lots of things, but watching other people work was what he did best. He was lazy, to say it straight out. The only sport he ever played in school was chess. By then, he was lying around so much that everybody started calling him “Lazy Russ.” Later church history knows him as Saint Russell the Incliner. Now you know.

And then there's the baby sister of the family, Mary. Now, you couldn’t exactly call her lazy, like her brother. Not exactly. Mary spent all day reading the scriptures and praying. You might say she was working. She just wasn’t moving. All her work was between her ears, I guess you’d say. That’s how she gained a nickname of Prayery. Little Prayery in the house. Prayery loved Jesus like Martyr and Russ did, but it was easier to tell, because she hung on every word He said.

As I say, they were close to Jesus growing up. But they lived down in Judea, near Jerusalem in Bethany. There was Martyr working like a mother, with Russ and Prayery reaping the benefits day after day. But Martyr never complained. And never smiled. 

By the time Jesus turned thirty, he had become what you might call a traveling rabbi. A rabbi, in case you’re wondering, is a Jew who tells people what God wants them to do, except he wasn’t a mother. That was the other Mary. Mary Fullagrace.

Anyway, Martyr invites Jesus to come on down and spend a day or two, just like always. She always looked forward to visits from Jesus. He always had time for her and made her feel special, like somebody was actually listening to her when she talked. 

Except this time when the Lord comes, he walks  in with His twelve new pals. And Martyr, who had warmed up exactly four frozen chicken pot pies, was a might pressed at how to make them stretch to feed sixteen. She cut up the little pies into quarters, but those little pieces looked pretty pitiful lying all by themselves on the plates. So she’s scrambling, looking for some lettuce in the garden to add some greens, maybe finding some potatoes to cut up, setting out pretzels for the boys and having them all eaten before you could say, “Sorry I ate all your pretzels!” By now, the pot pies aren’t steamy any more, but Martyr, she is.

What’s more, Prayery-Mary is just hanging around with Jesus. Sitting there. And Russ is, well, doing what Russ does best. Being a man, I suppose. 

After an hour or more of this, Martyr can’t take it any more, and she comes out, trying to seem calm, but anyone could see she’s irritated. She strides into the room, and she says, “Jesus, make Sissy come out here and help me!” 

But the Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but only one thing is necessary.” (verses 41-42)

Jesus stands up and walks over to Martha. "Martyr, you pray with your hands. Mary prays with her ears. It’s all prayer, and it’s all good.”

So, of course, Prayery stays right there. Martyr grits her teeth and forgives Sissy (again) and goes back to fixing and cleaning. Somebody’s still got to do it. And you know she was led by the Holy Spirit, because she didn’t put a hot pepper in the Lord’s pot pie.

It’s true that Mary chose the better thing when she prayed with her ears. But, remember, Martha was faithfully praying with her hands. It’s all prayer, and it’s all good.