Balance - Redeemer Episcopal Church

This sermon was originally preached at Redeemer Episcopal Church on July 21, 2019. To listen to the sermon (with infusions from the Spirit), click this link.

Photo by Leio McLaren (@leiomclaren)  
on Unsplash

Luke 10:38-42

³⁸Now as they went on their way, he entered a certain village, where a woman named Martha welcomed him into her home. ³⁹She had a sister named Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to what he was saying. ⁴⁰But Martha was distracted by her many tasks; so she came to him and asked, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself? Tell her then to help me.” ⁴¹But the Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things;⁴²there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her.”

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Grace and peace from our Lord and Savior Christ Jesus who invites us to sit at his feet to listen and learn so that we might have purpose to our actions. 

I spent this past week with my parents in Ohio. Most of the week was spent preparing for our son’s first birthday party. There was a lot of cooking, cleaning, and hosting happening. Even my aunt came into town, my grandmother came to the house they could have an assembly line of food preparation. 

When my mom asked what I was preaching on this week, I told her it was the story of Mary and Martha, when Martha fusses at Jesus to make Mary help with the cooking and cleaning and hosting. My mom, unsurprisingly, said, “I’m obviously a Martha. And I totally understand why she was upset with Jesus and Mary! Mary should have gotten up and helped! Couldn’t she see her sister was overwhelmed?” 

This is a common reaction to Bible stories like this. We usually identify with one or the other in this story. We either feel more like a Martha or more like a Mary. How many of us did that as I read the gospel text? 

I think there is a misconception about this text that we must choose one or the other. That Mary and Martha are mutually exclusive to one another’s way of living life. I often hear this story told and preached when a priest wants to tell her people to be less busy. I’m not going to do that because, for one— I have no business telling you all to do something that I myself am terrible at doing. My middle name is busy. 

I was recently talking to my therapist and I told her that I felt really great in many aspects of my life, but that my spiritual life seemed lacking. I felt like I was wandering without a clear path forward. I feel like I can’t slow down, that I’m always in high gear, running from one thing to the next. And it is making me lose direction in other parts of my life because I feel ungrounded. It’s a hard sensation to describe. And she doesn’t speak the spiritual language that we speak in church, but she said, “Are you resting? Are you giving your spirit rest?”

And it immediately made me think of this story.

This gospel story falls in the lectionary between the story of the Good Samaritan— which seems all about action— this last Sunday. And Jesus teaching about the Lord’s Prayer, which we will hear about next Sunday. 

As a church, we are called to action like the Good Samaritan. We are called to faithful, difficult work in dismantling systems of oppression and powers that harm the most vulnerable in our society. We must do these things, because faith without works is dead and we are called to bear good fruit in our lives. 

But we are also called to faithfulness, to prayer and centering. If you go full speed in the direction of these works, without being rooted in prayer, without being grounded by listening, then we can run into real trouble. 

I don’t believe we have to choose between being Mary or being Martha.  It’s not about one or the other. It’s about balance. We must sit at Jesus’ feet and listen to his teaching so that we may know the clear path forward. Otherwise, we will just be wandering— without any idea of where we are supposed to be going. 

Radical hospitality is so important, and providing for others, and welcoming strangers. This about how much Jesus says about doing the right thing for our neighbors, providing for the sick, poor, needy, refugees, and most vulnerable. Jesus knows the importance of being a good host to strangers and teaches on it and demonstrates it regularly throughout the gospels. So I don’t think he’s condemning Martha for being a good and faithful host. But he is inviting her into the learning, the listening, the stillness as well. 

We have to learn how to do both, because without both, neither will have direction or meaning. They cannot be contradictory or mutually exclusive. 

In the first reading this morning, we heard about the story of Sarah and Abraham when they were receiving God as a guest in their home. 

Sarah got to work hosting the mysterious visitor when he showed up. But Sarah also listened to him. Even though she didn’t believe him and laughed at his declaration, she stopped to listen because she knew that what God said was important and had the ability to give her and her life direction. 

I invite you to continue the hustle and bustle of your life, but not at the cost of your life at the feet of Christ. When you’re feeling that tug, the pull, like the one I have been feeling lately— that feeling like you’re wandering and directionless. When you look up one day and realize that you haven’t listened to God in a while, I invite you to stop. Really, truly stop. What grace is that. How radical is that, in the face of a society that tells us we can’t and shouldn’t stop— I invite you to stop. Jesus invites you to stop. And sit at the feet of Jesus to listen and learn.

I don’t know what stopping looks like. Maybe it is less busyness. Maybe it is busyness with a purpose. Maybe it is more time in prayer or reading the Bible, but maybe for some us it is action rooted in our faith in Christ. 

I’m not sure what listening and sitting at the feet of Jesus means for each of us, and I haven’t mastered it myself yet. But I think both Mary and Martha have something to teach us in that what looks like laziness or even rest could be listening. And what could look like busyness and bustling around, could actually be listening as well. 

A friend of mine puts it this way: It’s not about how we serve, but remembering who we serve. When we work, we work for God, when we listen, we listen for God.

I’m going to say that again, because I think it is the core of what Jesus is trying to teach us in this story: It’s not about how we serve, but remembering who we serve. When we work, we work for God, when we listen, we listen for God.

Life is a balance of action and prayer, movement and rest. We must be conscious of this balance, we must attend to it. And when we feel restless and drained, bustling around with no purpose, we are able to come back to this place, this congregation, to be nourished by this word and meal, to be reminded of our baptism in these waters, and be renewed with the prayers for one another. 

We do this because God’s grace is the better part that Jesus speaks about, and despite the ways of this world saying otherwise, God’s grace cannot be taken from us. Amen. 

No guilt

Today I woke up around 9am when my FitBit started buzzing on my wrist. My husband asked if I wanted breakfast, I mumbled "yes," and I rolled over and went back to sleep until noon. And I don't feel guilty about it at all.

It has taken me a really long time to be okay with taking care of myself. I used to feel guilty for wanting to stay home when others went out (especially in college). I used to apologize when people asked me out to lunch and I didn't want to go. In fact, most of the time I would go anyway, even if I didn't really want to just because I felt guilty about it.

We are so conditioned from an early age that we must put our family first, we must put our husband first, we must put our children first. And if we don't we are "bad" in any (or all) of those roles. The Bachelor recently showed a clip of Amanda (single mom) talking about how difficult it has been to use the last few weeks to take care of herself because she's not used to focusing on herself since she has two daughters. She feels guilty for pursuing something she wants and for taking care of herself.

There's a lot of guilt that surrounds self-care nowadays. I don't know if it was always there, but I have noticed it a lot as I have become older and more comfortable in my own routine, my own skin, and with my own needs. It seems that a woman, especially a woman with a husband or children, is not supposed to take even a few minutes out of her day to care for herself.

I first recognized this guilt and judgement in myself my first year of seminary. I had a really hard time figuring out if I was in the right place during those first few months. I was missing home, missing my friends, and the novelty of a new place and new people had worn out. So I got back into my routine of running. I'd often run during our chapel and lunch hour, enduring glares and comments from people on their way to chapel. I made excuses, I apologized, and I felt super guilty about it. And then I thought, you know, this is how I am taking care of myself. And even though other people might not be okay with it, I'm sure God understands.

Since then, I have had a long uphill battle with self-care. But I no longer apologize about weekly (or daily) milkshakes with my roommates. I no longer feel guilty about sleeping in when I have nothing to do. I don't judge myself for seeking refuge in my bed for several hours at a time, binge-watching a horrible Netflix series (looking at YOU Vampire Diaries). When someone asks me to lunch and I don't want to go, I simply say, "no thank you" with a smile and don't give it a second thought.

It has taken a lot of self-discovery to be okay with self-care. The more I learn about myself and the more in-tune I am with my body and my needs, the easier it is to not only care for myself, but translate that to others. I'm an introvert through and through so my self-care often looks a bit lonely, a little quiet, and sometimes awkward - sitting in the same room with my husband without speaking. My parishioners (and husband) joke that I nap a lot, but I don't feel guilty about it anymore. I need a three hour nap after Sunday's service.  Without sleep I'm grumpy, unproductive, and not a fun person to be around.

Self-care is vitally important to me because it not only allows me to care for myself, but it gives me the energy, patience, and courage to care for others. And with service to others being my love language, it is important that I have the energy to do it often and well. Not to mention, self-care is biblical. There's a reason Jesus went into the wilderness and into the mountains to pray.

I'm also learning that it's important that my self-care be public and unapologetic. I have so many friends who struggle to take care of themselves and continuously "pour from an empty cup" until they are exhausted, burned out, and bitter. Not to say that this hasn't happened to me (to the point of panic attacks and total withdrawal), but if I am able to be a positive example for self-care even half of the time, I am inadvertently giving other women permission (something we so desperately seek) to also care for themselves.

Although the guilt and judgement associated with self-care is something I'm still struggling with on a daily basis, I'm being encouraged by women and pastors who view self-care as not a "treat yo self" kind of splurge, but a daily, precious, and necessary part of our vocation. And I hope to pass that encouragement on to others and my ministry continues, by not feeling guilty, being unapologetic, and napping to my heart's content.

In preparation for Haiti

Most of you know this, but I went to Honduras for eleven days in January.  I haven't been able to go more than about 20 hours without thinking about that experience and how much I want to go back.  I might not get the opportunity to go back to Honduras, but I'm hoping to travel again this January.

The professor with whom I traveled takes a group to Haiti on the years he doesn't go to Honduras.

I am elated about Haiti.

I loved my experience in Honduras so much that I cannot even imagine how much fun I'll have in Haiti.  I just want to hang out with kids again.  Sweat in the sweet heat and giggle with some kids on the front porch of a school.  I've been Googling things about Haiti for the last week in anticipation. 34% of the population is younger than fourteen.  I couldn't be more excited.

Haiti intimidates me.

I don't know how to speak even a tiny bit of French.  And French Creole sounds even more exhausting.  How am I going to connect with people when I can't understand anything? When I can't speak anything?  But if I learned anything while I was in Honduras, it's that laughter and silliness are languages without distinctions.  I might be alright.

My heart breaks for Haiti.

Haiti was the first post-colonial black-led nation in the world.  They endured so much persecution by the Spanish and French over the years that their government has been pretty unstable for its entire existence.  It is currently the poorest country in the Western Hemisphere.  Poorer than Honduras? I think to myself. How my heart breaks for the people there.

Haiti is hurting.

In 2010, an earthquake struck Haiti, killing over 300,000 people and leaving over 1.5 million people homeless.  Four years later, they still haven't recovered.  They may never fully recover.  Their environment is subject to extensive deforestation and soil erosion.  And there is barely enough potable water to provide everyone with enough throughout the year.

Haiti can teach me so much.

Over 95% of Haitian citizens are black.  Over half of the population practices voodoo (although the census says that they are 80% Roman Catholic).  I am so incredibly interested in the culture there.  Not as a specimen of study, but as people I'd love to have relationships with.

I am so excited to meet my brothers and sisters in Haiti.  I'm going to be hitting everyone up for money soon.  It makes me ill to ask for money like this, but these trips are formational and completely priceless to the ministry for which God is calling me.

Lent: Take Two

Most people are pretty familiar with fasting, even if they don't practice it on a regular basis.

There are periods of time when Jewish people are supposed to fast (usually from sun up to sun down), Catholics like to fast from things like meat during Lent. Lutherans pretend they get to choose what to fast from during Lent.

The disciples mostly fasted during religious holidays and festivals (you know, because they were Jewish) and women fasted when they were in a time of mourning.

I don't really know if any other denominations or religious groups make use of fasting during certain periods, so I won't go making anything up.

Anyway, I was thinking about how Ronnie and I fasted for a few weeks more than Lent this past Spring (go us, right?) and how amazing it was to take superfluous things out of our lives and focus on prayer and meditating on the Bible.

Let me in on a little secret: I am happy. I'm doing pretty good right now. I can't really think of things to complain about besides the amount of gas I have to put in my car. I'm doing alright.

Do you know how much harder it is to talk to God when you don't have anything to complain about? It's sad. But it's true. I feel like I go to bed every night think, "well geez, I don't have anything to ask for. And today was pretty much the same as yesterday. So... yeah..."

So mix my really crappy prayers, neglecting to continue our Bible Study, needing to learn Greek, spending way too much money this month, and my Lutheran Guilt... and I've decided to fast for the month of June. 

Now please don't think I'm this pious nun or anything. I'm anything but. I never used fasting as a means to "reset my life on God's tracks" until I read some pretty fantastic books about women who used it in the same or similar ways.  One woman fasted with her husband during the entire time they were in the process of adopting their third and fourth child. Awesome. Another woman fasted (mostly for the book) and in celebration of Jewish holidays and traditions (even though she's Christian). That's pretty cool too.

So I'm fasting.

I'm still trying to figure out what to fast from... most of the time I think about what is hindering me at the time. What is keeping me from God? What do I need less of so that I can give God more?

I'm thinking it's going to be something like this:

1. Absolutely no coffee.
2. No spending money except on gas.
3. No browsing Pinterest.

I also try to make myself DO things instead of just restricting myself from things:

4. Continue Bible Study on Psalms with Ronnie.
5. Start Bible Study on Fruits of the Spirit with Alex.
6. Continue working on Greek translations.
7. Nurture my relationships.

Seven is a pretty holy number. I'll leave it there.

Although I know I'm not challenging myself as much as I should be, I think it will be a good change for the month. Hopefully it will get me back on track with all the things that are especially important in my life, namely God.

Maybe it will give me more motivation to write this month too. I've been particularly neglectful in that area of my life as well. 

It would have killed me.

Part of the preparation for a Lutheran (ELCA specifically) seminarian is to go through a psychological assessment.  With real psychologists and real counselors.  For two whole days.  It sounds a bit intimidating right? It is.

But it is necessary to the process of discernment - a type of inward journey to find out how/what God is calling you to do.  One of the main objectives of the psych assessment is to help you recognize and "treat" your weaknesses or vulnerabilities.  They focus on your strengths toom but typically you have a good idea about your strengths before you go in.  Sometimes your vulnerabilities are harder to identify - or at least admit.

One of my flaws/weaknesses/things-to-work-on is my business.  I always feels like I have to have a new project.  This wouldn't be so bad if I handled this compulsive behavior in a healthy way.  But my other vulnerability is feeling it necessary to care for other people before - and often in place of - caring for myself.  I neglect my own needs for the needs of others.  So much so that I make it my eternal project.  If I'm not constantly doing something for someone else (solving a problem, editing a paper, being a helper), I feel like I am failing.

This probably doesn't sound so bad, right? Pastors and volunteers are supposed to think of others before they think of themselves.  The problem is that it has manifested into unrealistic expectations for myself. I push myself to the point of exhaustion and then I take out my frustration on the people I care about most. It's not healthy. I don't know how to rest.

A few weeks after my psych assessment I had a full-blown panic attack at the Shrove Tuesday pancake supper at church. Uh yikes. That opened my eyes to the problem and made me accept it as a reality.

The second step after the psych assessment and before my entrance interview (on April 11th!!) is to work on my vulnerabilities.  The psychologist and counselor diagnose me, and prescribe me actions to take and books to read (just as a medical doctor would prescribe medication and exercise to a person with heart disease.)

Identify the potential problem (or completely manifested problem in my case).

Take action to treat the problem.

Although I still have a long way to go, I have started to do some of the things on my to-do list from the psych assessment:

I am reading three books about resting, taking time for yourself, and self-care in pastoral vocations.
I have started observing a sabbath every week. (This is so hard!)
I am trying to take time out of every day to relax and sit down.
I am praying every night with my (very) patient boyfriend.
I reevaluated my priorities and uncommitted from some things at church and work.
I am continuing Bible study of the Old Testament.
I am talking with people, pastors, parents, friends about what it means to care for yourself and take time for yourself in a society that is so concerned about doing the next big thing and always being on the move.

I'm convinced that if I hadn't identified my vulnerability it would have killed me. Maybe not tomorrow or next year, but eventually I would have died of exhaustion.

My plea to you is to identify your vulnerability.  Grasp it. Caress it. Love it. Then work on it and treat it like a disease that is bound to kill you.