Digging Deeper for such a time as this: - from: Hastings, J. (Ed.). (1915). In The Greater Men and Women of the Bible: Mary–Simon. Edinburg: T&T Clark. ____________________________ MARTHA AND MARY Now as they went on their way, he entered into a certain village: and a certain woman named Martha received him into her house. And she had a sister called Mary, which also sat at the Lord’s feet, and heard his word. But Martha was cumbered about much serving; and she came up to him, and said, Lord, dost thou not care that my sister did leave me to serve alone? bid her therefore that she help me. But the Lord answered and said unto her, Martha, Martha, thou art anxious and troubled about many things: but one thing is needful: for Mary hath chosen the good part, which shall not be taken away from her.—Luke 10:38–42. THE Gospels show us our Lord in public—in the Temple of Jerusalem, in the high priest’s palace, in Pilate’s judgment-hall, on the green hill outside the gate, or on that other hill where He delivered His sermon, or in the meadow where He fed five thousand, or in the synagogue of Capernaum, or on the lake where the eager people crowded the shore. We see Him as a Prophet, Reformer, Teacher, Martyr, as the Messiah and Redeemer. But the same Gospels lift the veil from Jesus’ private life, so that we know some of the houses where He found a home in the hard years of His ministry, and some of the friends who comforted His heart. There was one house in Cana where there would ever be a welcome for Him, because on the chief day of life He had turned the water of marriage joy into wine; another in Capernaum, because there He had changed sorrow into gladness, and given a young girl back to her father from the gates of death. He had stayed in John’s modest lodging at Jerusalem, as well as used the “Upper Room” of a wealthier friend. There was a room in a publican’s house in Capernaum which was sacred because Jesus had feasted there and sealed as in a sacrament the salvation of Levi; and Zacchæus, to the last day of his life, saw the Master crossing his threshold that night He slept in Jericho. The family of St. Peter could have told many things of Jesus—a fifth gospel of what He said and did at His ease. But the home of the Gospels dearest to the Christian heart is that of Bethany, where the Master found a refuge from labour and persecution, and constant sympathy with Mary and Martha and their brother Lazarus. We meet with that most interesting of all New Testament households, the Bethany family, on three occasions in the course of the gospel history. Twice the sisters are brought together on the scene; in the third case the younger alone appears. This statement goes on the assumption that the Mary and Martha of St. Luke are the same two sisters whom St. John brings before us in his account of the raising of Lazarus; it also rests on that Evangelist’s identification of the woman anointing Jesus with the costly spikenard, whose name is not given in the two Synoptic accounts of the incident—Matthew and Mark—with Mary of Bethany. ¶ The connexion of the three incidents with the same family is not so absolutely certain as is commonly supposed; at least there have been careful readers to whom it has appeared more than doubtful. St. Luke, it may be observed, gives us only the earlier incident,—that in which Mary sits at the feet of Jesus while Martha is cumbered with much serving, an incident which we meet with in his Gospel alone,—this evangelist neither mentioning the raising of Lazarus, which is not referred to by any of the synoptists, nor giving the anointing in the last week at Jerusalem, which the other two Synoptic Gospels record. In introducing his story he does not fix the locality at Bethany; he simply says that “as they went on their way” Jesus “entered into a certain village,” not naming the place, apparently for the reason that he does not know where it is. But since he inserts the incident in the course of his account of a tour in Galilee, the impression left on the mind of an unprejudiced reader would naturally be that the unknown village was situated somewhere in that district. Hence harmonists have suggested that the family had been living at the earlier period in Galilee, and had subsequently moved to the neighbourhood of Jerusalem, while, on the other hand, there have not been wanting critics who have pounced on the seeming discrepancy as an evidence of the untrustworthiness of the Fourth Gospel, the author of which, they have suggested, has arbitrarily transported Mary and Martha from the north country to Bethany. But surely it is enough to suppose that St. Luke inserts his incident where it occurs in his Gospel, with its vague indication of locality, because there was nothing in the source from which he derived it to determine where it occurred. It may be remarked that immediately before this he gives the parable of the Good Samaritan, the scene of which is laid in the neighbourhood of Jerusalem, and which therefore would be most appropriately spoken by our Lord in that locality. May it be that both of these paragraphs come from some fragmentary notes of one of Christ’s visits to Jerusalem which failed to state the locality to which they belonged? There is not only the fact of the names being the same, and Martha is by no means so common a name as Mary. The distinctive traits of character which come out with startling vividness in the Third Gospel are repeatedly suggested by more delicate hints in the Fourth, raising the probability practically to a certainty that we have the same pair of sisters introduced to us in each case. I BETHANY Bethany is mentioned neither in the Canonical books nor in the Apocrypha of the Old Testament; it makes its appearance for the first time in the New Testament, and is not named in Josephus. Its situation is relatively easy to determine. We know that it was on the road from Jericho to Jerusalem, at a distance of fifteen furlongs from the latter, lying thus on the east, or rather south-east side of the Mount of Olives. Origen asserts that in his time the position of Bethany was known. In the fourth century, the Bordeaux Pilgrim mentions a place where the “crypta” of Lazarus was to be seen. Eusebius records that “the place of Lazarus” was shown, and Jerome adds that it was two miles from Jerusalem. The village still exists. As the traveller leaves Jerusalem upon the Jericho road, he arrives, after about half an hour’s walk from the Damascus gate, which takes him into the Kedron valley, and then upward around the southern shoulder of Olivet, at the houses, grey, dilapidated, and not beautiful, of Bethany. Or he may take another line, and ascend Olivet to its summit, past the obtrusive structure of the huge Russian convent at the top of the road, and then find his way over fence and field to the minor hills of the eastward side of the mountain, where it looks down upon Bethany. There is a charm about the surroundings, certainly when seen in spring, as there always is a charm over the rural landscape of that land of many-hued soil and of thronging flowers. But the villages of Palestine are seldom if ever in themselves pleasant to the eye, and certainly Bethany is not; actual or impending decay seems written upon its dwellings. Yes, but still it is Bethany. The immortal memories dignify and beautify it all. For, indeed, there is that wonderful peculiarity about the memories of Palestine, that they are memories and so much more. In Rome, and in Athens, our thoughts are with “the great departed” in “the silent land.” At Jerusalem they are with Him who was dead, but behold He is alive for evermore; His very name is life and hope; He is Lord of the future even more than of the past; He is, above all things, Lord of the present, “with us, all the days.” ¶ There are particular times when the name has a particularly soothing music in its sound for the Christian. Whisper to him of Bethany, when he sits in his desolate home, and, wandering back through the past, thinks of a face that is vanished, a voice that is mute, and a sacred mound in the churchyard,—whisper to him then of Bethany, and his grief is assuaged, as he thinks that Jesus wept there, and his face brightens, as he gets a motto from the Lord’s own lips which faith can inscribe on the tombstone, “I am the resurrection and the life: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live.” Whisper to him of Bethany in those moments of half-unbelief, when doubts and fears about the grounds of his religious opinions, and the reality of things unseen assert themselves—when suspicions which he thought had been shorn of their strength, rise again Samson-like, and, laying their hands on the pillars that support his hopes, threaten to shake the whole fabric into ruins; speak to him of Bethany then, and his faith again triumphs, as he sees Him who had been crucified rising up through the parting clouds into heaven to be alive for evermore, as His people’s friend and guardian. Whisper to him of Bethany when he is wearied with his daily toils; when the wrinkles of anxiety come out on his brow; when losses, and crosses, and failures have made him peevish and morose; and he can enter the house of Martha and Mary, and sitting down at the feet of Jesus, have all his vexations dissipated, as he hears about the “good part that shall never be taken away.” II THE HOME IN BETHANY 1. One of the most pathetic utterances which Christ ever made about Himself is the single reference to His homelessness. “The foxes have holes, and the birds of the air have nests; but the Son of man hath not where to lay his head.” Christ never had a home of His own. From the time when He left His father’s home in Nazareth where He was brought up, He was a wanderer. To all the comfort which the word suggests, to all the sacred joy associated with the name, He was a complete stranger. That His nature craved for fellowship is evidenced by the references He made to His loneliness, and by His frequent communion with the Father. That He needed the quietness and peace which others find within the privacy of their own homes is proved by His frequent retirements to the solitude of the desert or of the mountain. The home at Bethany appears to have been to Christ a haven of quiet and rest, where He sought refuge from the storms and tumult to which His Judæan ministry exposed Him. It was a land-locked harbour protected from the wild gusts of fierce passion and bitter malice which confronted Him as He steered His course amidst the angry billows and sunken rocks of the neighbouring Jerusalem. In Bethany there was always a home which offered a loving welcome, and there were hearts which responded with a sincere affection. It was, as the whole history shows, a wealthy home. It consisted of two sisters—the elder, Martha (a not uncommon Jewish name, being the feminine of Mar, and equivalent to our word “mistress”); the younger, Mary; and their brother Lazarus, or, Laazar. It was a beautiful friendship that united the Lord with this family. Their home was very evidently one of His favourite resorts. He turned to it for its friendly peace. Perhaps He found in this little circle a love that was not tainted with interested ambition. Perhaps He found a friendship that sought no gift and coveted no place. Perhaps He found a full-orbed sympathy, unbroken by suspicion or reserve. Perhaps He found a confidence which was independent of the multitude, and which remained quietly steadfast whether He moved in public favour or in public contempt. At any rate, Jesus was at home “in the house of Martha and Mary,” and here all unnecessary reticence was changed into free and sunny communion. He loved to turn from the heated, feverish atmosphere of fickle crowds to the cool and restful constancy of these devoted friends. When the eyes of His enemies had been following Him with malicious purpose, it was spiritually recreating to look into eyes that were just quiet “homes of silent prayer.” After the contentions of the Twelve, and their frequent disputes as to who should be greatest, it was good to be in this retired home where friends found love’s reward in love’s sacrifices, and the joy of loving in the increased capacity to love. It is therefore no wonder to read that Jesus went out to Bethany. He was not there simply to eat, drink, sleep, and be let alone. He could not be hidden in that way. The overflowing soul must find expression. And among friendly hearts and kindred minds it would be a veritable “saints’ rest,” a “heart’s ease,” a garden of delights, refreshing to the soul as the work of Eden, to hold converse concerning the things of the Kingdom. Such work and fellowship, so like to those of heaven, would also be allied thereto in the rest involved. The fellowship of kindred minds Is like to that above. 2. The Gospels give us three scenes in the family life of the two sisters and their brother, in each of which Jesus is the central figure. (1) The first is a picture of quiet life, and shows us that the Master was not always working at the highest pressure, but had His hours of rest. Weary with the discussions of Jerusalem, which He had been visiting at a Feast, Jesus, who had no love for cities, escaped to Bethany for rest. Whereupon we see the kindly Martha showing her affection in much serving, impatient with her sister because she thought she neglected the offices of a genial hospitality. We see there, too, the pensive and spiritual Mary sitting at Jesus’ feet, earnestly drinking in the words that fell from His lips. We seem to hear the gentle but serious rebuke addressed to the one, and the language almost of benediction in which He commended the other who, He said, “hath chosen the good part, which shall not be taken away from her.” (2) The second visit of Jesus to Bethany is associated with one of those swift and unexpected family calamities which affect the imagination by their poignant contrast, and invest life with a profound seriousness. Lazarus lay dead; the light of his sisters’ domestic life seemed extinguished for ever, and the whole world seemed desolate and blighted; their hearts sank within them under the cruel weight of a great sorrow. And in that hour of anguish and distress to whom did their thoughts turn? To the Man whom Martha had received. But the long hours creep slowly away, and still Jesus does not appear. “Oh, if He were here our brother would not die!” And then when the funeral is over, and the first intensity of the anguish has passed away, a rumour reaches them of His approach. Martha hears it. The Master is coming, and Martha, with her natural impulsiveness, rushes out to meet Him, and salutes Him with the words which had been rising in her heart over and over again all the time—“Lord, if thou hadst been here my brother had not died.” And there He stands gazing at her—oh, how tenderly—and she hears Him groaning in His troubled spirit. Mary has joined them now, and tears are flowing fast all round, and His eyes are dry no longer. What a moment it must have been for Mary and Martha when they knew that He who loved them so truly was weeping as with their tears, and sharing their sorrow! “Jesus wept”; and the friends around said, as well they might, “Behold, how he loved him!” Another moment and Jesus was standing by the closed tomb, lifting up His heart in that wonderful prayer, “Father, I thank thee that thou hast heard me.” They stood looking on, wondering what was to come next. Then was heard the voice of power, “Lazarus, come forth,” and he that was dead came forth. The king of terrors yields his prey and gives back his victim to the glories of a new, a resurrection life. There he stands before them, the very Lazarus that they had lost, their own dearly loved brother still. What a moment it was when the man whom they had mourned as dead clasped his sisters to his bosom! One can imagine the joy too deep for words that filled their hearts and welled up in their brimming eyes, while He who was the Resurrection and the Life looked on, smiling on all the ecstasy which He had caused. ¶ Those who believe in Jesus may weep for their dead, for Jesus wept. But they may not doubt His love in suffering them to die; they may not doubt that for them the transition is blest. Still may we treasure that of them which is dear. We make them a hidden, quiet room Far in the depth of our spirit’s gloom: Thither, O thither, wrung with woe, In yearning love we often go: There, O there, do the loved abide, Shadowy, silent, sanctified! But they in their true life are with the Lord. It is they who lament for us who are From the eternal life so far. And therefore we will take up the language of faith and hope, and say— If this be so, we shall look no more At the night of the former gloom: We shall not stay and make sad delay At the dark and awful tomb, But rather take to our mourning hearts The balm and blessing this trust imparts— What the Scripture saith in the ear of Faith Of the excellent joys that crown the head Of every one of the faithful dead. (3) Once more we see Jesus with His friends, and now the circumstances are less harrowing, and still more beautiful. As Jesus has arrived for the Passover—His last feast before all things should be fulfilled—He goes to stay with them during Passion Week, so that, whatever may be the controversy and dispeace of the day in Jerusalem, He may cross the Mount of Olives, and rest in Bethany. To celebrate His coming, and as a sacrifice of thanksgiving for a great deliverance, the family give a feast, and each member thereof fills a natural place. Lazarus, the modest head of the household, now surrounded with a mysterious awe, sits with Jesus at the table; Martha, as was her wont, was superintending the feast with an access of zeal; and Mary was inspired of the spirit of grace, and did a thing so lovely and so spiritual that it will be told unto all time, and will remain the picture of ideal devotion. With a wealthy family it was customary to have in store a treasure of fragrant ointment for the honouring of the dead; but there came into Mary’s mind a more pious use for it. Why pay the homage to a dead body, and render it when the person can receive no satisfaction? Far better that in their lifetime our friends should know that they are loved, and should be braced for suffering by the devotion of loyal hearts. Before His enemies have crowned Him with thorns, Mary will pour the spikenard on His head, and before they have pierced His feet with nails she will anoint them with her love, so that the fragrance of the precious ointment may be still on His hair when He hangs upon the cross. The odour of ointment filled the room, and two persons passed judgment. One understood and condemned—Judas, who was arranging the betrayal of Jesus, and had lost an increase for his bag. One understood and approved, and that was the Master, who, with the shadow of the cross falling on His soul, was comforted by a woman’s insight and a woman’s love. Her own heart taught her the secret of sacrifice; her heart anticipated the longing for sympathy; and so beautiful in its grace and spiritual delicacy was her act that Jesus declared it would be told to her praise wherever the Gospels were read. ¶ The Onyx is the type of all stones arranged in bands of different colours; it means primarily, nail-stone—showing a separation like the white half-crescent at the root of the fingernail; not without some idea of its subjection to laws of life.… Banded or belted stones include the whole range of marble, and especially alabaster, giving the name to the alabastra, or vases used especially for the containing of precious unguents, themselves more precious; so that this stone, as best representative of all others, is chosen to be the last gift of men to Christ, as gold is their first; incense with both: at His birth, gold and frankincense; at His death, alabaster and spikenard.… These vases for precious perfume were tall, and shaped like the bud of the rose. So that the rosebud itself, being a vase filled with perfume, is called also “alabastron”; and Pliny uses that word for it in describing the growth of the rose. ¶ The vulgar irritation of the apostles at the “waste” involved in this beautiful and significant act of the anointing of the Messiah—those very apostles from whom had come Peter’s confession and who had seen the Transfiguration ecstasy—gives us the measure of the disharmony, the utter want of comprehension, the creeping conviction of failure, now existing amongst them. Romantic enthusiasm has been transformed into prudence and “common sense”: perhaps the worst form of degeneration with which any leader of men has to contend. Through their unworthy and unloving criticisms strikes the solemn and tragic comment of Jesus on this, probably the greatest spontaneous acknowledgment of Messiahship which He received—“She hath done what she could. She is come aforehand to anoint my body to the burying.” They are the loneliest words in literature. Removing their speaker by a vast distance from the common prudent life of men, from all human ideals and hopes, they bear within themselves the whole mystery of the Cross, the “King reigning from the Tree.” III THE SISTERS The three scenes in the house at Bethany are not all related in the same Gospel, yet the sisters are true to their character throughout. Now, if we were to read even a small part of the literature that has been written on Martha and Mary, we should be astonished and perhaps bewildered by the variety of ways in which their characters are contrasted. 1. “Martha,” says an American author, “is the ritualistic Episcopalian, proper, orderly, devout, reading her prayers from a book, and worshipping in silence her acknowledged Lord. But Mary is inclined to be an unconventional Methodist, zealous, impulsive, careless of precedent, praying the prayer that springs to her lips from an overflowing heart, and expressing her gratitude in most unexpected ways.” To complete the picture, Lazarus is offered as “the Presbyterian of the family, solid, sound, silent, philosophical.” 2. By mystical writers Martha has been taken to represent the active and Mary the contemplative life. If, for instance, yon were to turn to Madame Guyon’s Commentaries upon the interior sense of the Scriptures, you would find her discoursing something like this: “Martha receives Jesus into her house; that is as much as the active life can attain to. But Mary, who signifies the contemplative life, was seated. That ‘being seated’ expresses the repose of her contemplation; in that sacred rest she does nothing but listen to the voice of her dear Master, who teaches, nourishes, and quickens her with His own word. Oh! Mary, happy Mary, to hear that word! It made itself heard because you put yourself in a state to hear it: you listened for it, and you rested in that silence and that peace without which it is not possible to hear that word which is heard only in heart-silence!” St. Teresa, however, whom Dr. Rendel Harris calls “the most practical and level-headed of the ascetical school of mystics,” shows an inclination towards Martha and away from Mary, as commonly interpreted; and we can perhaps read between the lines and conclude that she had been a little overdone with those in her convent who practised too exclusively the cult of the younger sister. “Martha,” she says, “was a true saint though she did not achieve Contemplation. What more could one wish than like her to have Christ often in one’s house, and to serve Him and to sit at His very table? Had Martha been rapt like Mary, who would have given the Lord to eat? Those of the Active life are the soldiers who fight in the battles; those of the Contemplative are the standard-bearers who carry aloft the banner of humanity, across which lies the Cross. And remember, if the standard-bearer drops the standard, the battle has to be lost.” Oh, when those mystic barriers Our Maries pass, we dream That in some fair Elysian Their thirst has found the Stream; But the Marthas are our cottagers Who make our fireside bliss. The Beatific Vision— She never talked of this. A sudden mist our seeing blurs, Such sacramental grace Hath poured its revelation Into that patient face; And neighbour-hand toward neighbour stirs, Her sainthood to confess By love’s own consecration, Memorial kindliness. 3. A more modern conception, but somewhat akin to the last, is the contrast that is seen in the two sisters between the busy, practical person and the quiet, thoughtful, or sentimental. Martha is clear-headed, practical, serving in many things, never resting so much as when serving. She would work, and keep others working, and nothing pained her so much as dust and grime. Mary, her sister, was quiet, thoughtful, and studious. She was good as gold, and she also could work. She had been busy all the morning helping her sister; but when Jesus came, she would throw up all work and sit and listen to Him, and Martha had to prepare food and serve it. Martha supplies the business-like prose, Mary the poetry, of religion, which—though some may ask, as did Sir Isaac Newton, when Paradise Lost was read to him, “Very good; but what does it prove?” and others, “What does it do?”—soars into a region too high for evidences, and performs service too refined and subtle for ordinary tests. Martha rears the needful things of life in the garden of the Lord; Mary cultivates its flowers. Martha “serves” the meals of “the household of faith”; Mary brings the costly spikenard. In the Divine ceremonial, Martha gives the sacrifices, Mary the sweet incense; and as “the house was filled with the odour of her ointment,” so the spiritual temple of God is fragrant with her perfumes. Yea, Lord!—Yet some must serve. Not all with tranquil heart, Even at Thy dear feet, Wrapped in devotion sweet, May sit apart! Yea, Lord!—Yet some must bear The burden of the day, Its labour and its heat, While others at Thy feet May muse and pray! Yea, Lord!—Yet some must do Life’s daily task-work; some Who fain would sing must toil Amid earth’s dust and moil, While lips are dumb! Yea, Lord!—Yet man must earn And woman bake the bread! And some must watch and wake Early, for others’ sake, Who pray instead! Yea, Lord!—Yet even Thou Hast need of earthly care, I bring the bread and wine To Thee, O Guest Divine! Be this my prayer! 4. But it must not be forgotten that the difference which our Lord Himself points out is between one who has many things on her mind and one who has few. The words in which He rebuked Martha are, according to the margin of the Revised Version, which probably represents the best manuscripts: “Martha, Martha, thou art anxious and troubled about many things, but few things are needful, or one.” The “few” things would be in contrast with the “many” things with which, as St. Luke tells us, Martha was troubled. Jesus thinks that Martha is preparing a needlessly sumptuous meal, one much more elaborate than is necessary, especially considering the cost of it to the hostess in trouble and temper. Then the few things would be a few dishes. Jesus really does not care to see a great display of viands got together in honour of Himself. Much less would suffice; nay, a single dish would be enough. That was all He had been accustomed to at the frugal table in the carpenter’s cottage at Nazareth. He has no inclination to be the object of lavish hospitality. Had He not said on another occasion, “My meat is to do the will of him that sent me, and to accomplish his work”? and had He not warned His disciples not to toil for the meat that perisheth? It was another thing when the labour was lovingly bestowed by generous hands for the sake of honouring Him. Still this was not the sort of honour He cared for, and He certainly could not accept it at the cost of a spoilt temper and a family quarrel. Wordsworth’s ideal of “plain living and high thinking” is much nearer to the mind of Jesus. It is true that many resent the emphasis which is in this way put upon simplicity of life and occupation. They dislike the new reading, “a few things, Martha, or one.” They dislike the abandonment of an old interpretation, which has certainly had gracious results attaching to it. “You have spoiled my best sermon,” said one of the Revisers when the change was agreed on. And certainly it does sound much higher to say that the one thing needful was to choose Christ and attach oneself to Him; and it looks like a bathos to make Christ peep into the kitchen and say to Martha not merely that three courses are as good as ten, but that one course is as good as three! Why should our Lord trouble to simplify life and our ideas of what life consists in? The answer is that both our happiness and our usefulness depend upon the simplifications which we introduce into life, or which He introduces for us. And the limitation works out in this way: it relieves us from distraction, and it finds us the leisure which is necessary for the cultivation of the spiritual life. But, whether the “many” and the “one” refer to dishes at the table or not, Martha was wrong in being anxiously worried over many things that might be done, instead of attending faithfully to her single duty of the hour. This Jesus recognized, and therefore He reproved her. Mary was right in doing the one thing that was to be done, when her Divine Master and Guest wanted just that duty done, and for this Jesus commended her. (1) One danger of giving attention to many things is to neglect the distinction between things that are important and things that are unimportant. The secret of the highest and purest success in life lies in the ability first to choose and then to make effort after those things which are of really greatest worth. Of course, together with this choice, there must be a ceasing to strive after things of no intrinsic or permanent value. This is what Jesus meant when He said, “Seek ye first the kingdom of God and his righteousness.” ¶ Much time, and thought, and means are expended on the merest framework of life; on house and dress; on excursions and evening gatherings; on useless accomplishments, and the acquirement of artificial manners and movements; while what should gladly be our great subjects of thought, if we are honest in claiming to be immortals, are too often relegated to a narrow corner of the week. (2) Another danger is restlessness, fuss, and discontent. How clearly, how vividly we see Martha, the good-hearted, bustling, over-anxious mistress and very-much-manager of the household! She is so very busy about so very many things; and all the time she is firmly convinced in her own mind that all she does and all she would provide is absolutely necessary. Not one of all this multitude of things must be wanting. Custom, and her own reputation in her own eyes and among her neighbours, demand them all. The amount of mental and physical energy which she consumed in providing and preparing and arranging the “many things” which she deemed necessary, she probably never computed, nor did she stay for a moment to consider whether she had forgotten one or two things which in intrinsic worth might be of far greater value than the sum total of all the other things about which she was busying herself. Her mind was too divided to think clearly: part of it was running on this thing and part on that, and yet another part on something else; and her bodily movements were a reflection of her mental ones. As we say, she was all the time in a bustle, running here and there, anxious, distracted, worried; and because she was so she was much inclined to blame others, even the Lord Jesus, who were really guiltless of the cause of her unhappiness. Each to his own: yet surely I have read How of two sisters (each to Him was dear), One listened but to what the Saviour said,— Thought to be near The Lord Himself were best:—the other ran Laid plates, clashed dishes, filled and set the can; And all to serve Him. Yet the Lord preferred A quiet face, and that turned up to read The reason of His silence or His word; And said indeed Somewhat, I fancy, of a better part Near to His Feet, but nearer to His Heart. Choose thou, then, Martha, if thou wilt; perchance The joy of serving is enough for thee. Let me choose Mary; yea, love’s arrogance Is all for me: Nay, more than Mary—let me seek His side And sit by Him in penitential pride. 5. Is it not possible to combine them? May there not be a Martha and a Mary in one person? At least may we not desire to have both in the happy home? It is a grateful thought, says Dr. John Watson, that Jesus, who was homeless and a wanderer, who was often hungry and thirsty, who was soon to be shamefully used and tortured, had Bethany with its two hostesses. One of them cared for His body, and this is woman’s work, so that Martha is the patron saint of all good housewives and careful mothers and skilful nurses; and the other entered into His thoughts and plans, so that Mary is the chief type of the women who see visions and understand deep things, and show us the example of saintship. Within this haunt of Jesus were found the two people who make the complement of religion—Martha, the type of action; and Mary, of meditation. They stand together in the great affairs of the Church: St. Peter and St. John, St. Francis and St. Dominic, Erasmus and Luther; they are in our homes: the eager, strenuous, industrious people on whom the work falls, and the gentle, gracious, thoughtful souls, who are the consolation and quietness of life. Between the two kinds no comparison must be made, upon neither must any judgment be passed; both are the friends of Jesus, and the helpers of the world. ¶ Do not let us forget amidst the sweet perfume of the unguent that the Lord Jesus Christ sat at meat. I am right glad that Mary brought the alabaster box to anoint her Lord. But I am glad, too, that busy Martha had taken the trouble, as I am sure she would, to get for Him just that which she thought He would relish most. That He should sit at meat was quite as important as the anointing, and even more necessary. l cannot choose; I should have liked so much To sit at Jesus’ feet,—to feel the touch Of His kind, gentle hand upon my head While drinking in the gracious words He said. And yet to serve Him!—Oh, divine employ,— To minister and give the Master joy, To bathe in coolest springs His weary feet, And wait upon Him while He sat at meat! Worship or service,—which? Ah, that is best To which He calls us, be it toil or rest,— To labour for Him in life’s busy stir, Or seek His feet, a silent worshipper. - via Logos 5 #diggingdeeperforsuchatimeasthis #christjesus #vineofchristministries #theword #studyscripture #god #biblestudy #bible #jesus #faith
Posted on: Sun, 06 Apr 2014 18:37:51 +0000
Trending Topics
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015