An Homage To Saint Martha

The beginning of the semester is always a very busy time for me at work. Part of my responsibilities in my role is coordinating events, and I'll be the first to admit it's not my favorite. As anyone who has, say, planned a wedding in a professional or hired capacity knows it can be stressful with a lot of logistics, planning, coordination, and moving parts. As someone who suffers from anxiety to boot, it's an especially burdensome task. 

The weird thing is, I'm actually pretty well-suited for it despite the stress. I'm organized, plan and pull people together well, leverage contacts, and am time-conscious. I do get anxious about the things I can't control, but the things I can I do a pretty good job with. As with many things, sometimes the anticipation and the unknowns leading up the event are worse than the event itself, and the past couple months for me has been no exception. And like a wedding, no one really remembers that the centerpieces were missing a bow, or you ran out of plates. All they remember is they had a good time. 

And that's what happened tonight. Thankfully the months of planning and keeping things organized on my end helped, even when there were a few unforeseen glitches. There was a lot of running around and coordination. But in the end, everything went smoothly and it was a positive and memorable night for those we served.

What's strange is I found myself over the past day or two for the intercession of a new (O.G.) saint in my spiritual Rolodex, and that was St. Martha. 

Martha, like Thomas and Nathanael, aren't always portrayed in the most flattering light in Scripture. They are kind of like the supporting actors in Hollywood; not your typical go-to for casting calls. 

In Luke's Gospel, we see the busy Martha contrasted with her serene sister Mary, who sits at the feet of Christ as he visits their home. Martha is somewhat indignant that Mary is not pulling her weight in the service department, but Jesus lovingly admonishes her,

"As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him. She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet listening to what he said. But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, "Lord, don't you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!" "Martha, Martha," the Lord answered, "you are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her." (Lk 10:38-42)

Clearly there is a "better part" here, and Martha has settled for bronze. But I think she was just being who she was. One has to wonder how different the two sisters personalities may have been. It's also likely Martha was the older sister. It's always interesting when it comes to my wife and I how much birth order factors into our marriage; my wife is the youngest of four, and I am the oldest of three. As the oldest, I always felt a weight of responsibility--burden if you will--to "worry" about things that my brothers never gave thought to. My wife, by contrast, never worries about anything, and is used to just being "taken care of." 

The thing is, (needless) worry never really accomplishes anything; it's kind of like the mirage of social media where you think you are doing something noble and worthwhile and getting close to people, but you're really just wasting time in an echo chamber with internet strangers positing as friends. We spend a lot of energy worrying about the bad things that never end up happening, which falsely reinforces it's value in a kind of self-fulfilling prophecy: I worried--the bad thing didn't happen--worrying helped. It's not true. But it can be a real struggle to overcome that fallacy mentally. 

I'm not saying Martha of Bethany did this, but the always-perceptive Jesus is the one who says, she is "worried and upset about many things." Maybe she was concerned the bread was not rising fast enough, or that there wasn't enough wine, or the house was a mess, and all this was going through her mind in the other room while her sister, without a care in the world, took the privileged place on the floor at Jesus' feet. Mary is living in the world of the primary and macro, while Martha concerns herself with the secondary and micro.

Sometimes we want to be "the other sister." We may be a Martha that longs to be more contemplative, while a dreamy Mary might wish she had more practical skills in the kitchen. Personality wise, I have a "doer" shell while I think my core is in the realm of "being." I have a woman's brain but live in a man's body. I'm an introvert at heart, with strongly extroverted tendencies. 

But my work these past few months (and especially this evening at the actual event) had me solely in Martha's world. I was "worried and upset" about many (little) things. And so I found a soft-spot in my heart for St. Martha, for Christ loved her for who she was and sainthood was not beyond her. I thought she may understand my struggles, my anxious anguish, and could help me. So I prayed and asked for her intercession specifically. That's what's so great about the saints specifically, and Catholicism in general--there is a friend in Heaven for every occasion, every plight, every particular struggle and miracle needed. And I feel like she really came through in the clutch for me, because everything could not have gone better tonight.

So, this is my homage to the virgin Martha, whose less than flattering appearance in holy scripture is nonetheless honored and counted among the saints in Heaven and who had the privilege of serving the Lord Christ himself in her lifetime. We need Peters and Pauls. We need Teresas of Calcutta and Teresas of Avila. And we need Marthas in this life as much as Marys. 

Because, let's admit it: that food ain't going to cook itself.