Mary’s example is great. We need to focus on being devoted to God; but Martha will keep us honest and remind us that we still live in this world, with its physical needs, concerns, and with people who don’t yet know how great it is to sit at Jesus’ feet.

Have you ever watched a movie and, as watched it, you knew that you were being manipulated to "root" for one character while wishing that another would be punished, or have things go badly for them; but as you watched, you found yourself wishing that that tables would be reversed? Maybe you found yourself hoping that the guy who is obviously not going to get the girl really would get her; or that the thief would get away scot-free; or that the woman who threatens to ruin the romance of the leading lady would succeed in stealing the man from her? Maybe you wished the couple never would get together; or that the evil genius would end up ruling the world?

Sometimes in reading a book or watching a movie, I have felt that way. Maybe I felt some sympathy or affinity for the person who was destined to be the "loser" of the story. Or maybe I could see myself in their shoes, so that person then became an "underdog" in my eyes — and like most people, I’m a sucker for rooting for the underdog.

I almost hesitate to admit this to you this morning, but there are a few Bible stories that have always made me feel much the same way — where I know what the lesson being taught is, but I cannot help but have some sympathy for those that appear in the story in other capacities.

Jesus’ parable of the Prodigal Son is one of these. From the time I was young, whenever I would hear or read that story, I would find myself thinking about the older son. You know him, he’s the fellow who didn’t ask for his inheritance early and then go off and squander it, but who stayed at home, worked the family farm and spent years just being the "good son." Think about it from his perspective: he’s been doing what he should do all these years and his black-sheep brother comes crawling home after throwing life away, and Dad is all of a sudden ready to get out the good china for a welcome-home party!

When I read that story, I’m reminded of the time a Sunday school teacher read the same story in class and then asked, "Was anyone sorry when the prodigal son returned?" One little boy piped up and said, "Yes, the fatted calf." No doubt, the calf was sorry, all right, but the other brother was treated like yesterday’s news. Maybe he thought to himself, "News flash, Father: ‘Oldest son still faithful after all these years.’"

I know what the parable is about: the Father who loved both sons, no matter what they did or did not do. However, the story elicits within me a "gut reaction" of sympathy for the older brother.

I have another confession: I also have a gut reaction to empathize with the "wrong" character in the story I want to look at today. In Luke 10, starting at v. 38, there is a short account of Jesus’ visit to the home of two sisters, Martha & Mary. If you want to, you can follow along as I read about what happened that day… [Read vv. 38–42].

I’m sorry, but when I read that, a part of me cannot help but feel for poor Martha — she was just trying be a good hostess, doing nothing more than what most men would have expected of a good woman back then, and yet she gets rebuked by Jesus for focusing on the wrong thing.

I’m not disagreeing with the teachings of Jesus — I know what He was telling her, and we’ll get into that — but when I think of Martha fussing over the food and other arrangements, it brings my grandmother to mind. She’s getting up in years, but ever since I can remember, she has always been concerned that everyone around her eat well and enjoy their food, especially if she prepared it. In fact, to this day, theirs is a certain Jell-O salad that, when she makes it, I make sure that I have two conspicuous helpings. I like the salad, so I’m not lying to my grandmother, but I am sure to have two helpings because she’ll still say, "You’d better have more of that; I made it just for you…."

There is no doubt that way too much of my grandmother’s self-worth is tied up in her cooking; but to be fair to her, you have to remember that in the world she was born into, women were valued almost exclusively for how they kept their homes, raised their children and their cooking. This was even truer in Martha and Mary’s world. Back then, women were treated as little more than children. Most rabbis would not give the time of day to women. So the fact that Jesus even allowed a woman to sit and listen to him as he taught, much less that He encouraged another woman to do so, instead of busying herself with "woman’s work," says lot about what He thought of women.

Of course Mary is the sister who is held up as the example to emulate in this story. She recognized opportunity here and the importance of just being in Jesus’ presence and learning from Him. However, I think Martha’s also has something to teach us here. If Mary represents the person who just loves to worship, pray and think deep thoughts about God, then her sister Martha is the person who balances that out with everyday concerns.

As I said, Mary is the traditional "hero" of this story. You don’t have to look very far to find her praised and Martha put down. To be honest, most commentators aren’t too hard on Martha — after all, she didn’t really do anything wrong, just not what was appropriate for the situation. Jesus said that Mary "has chosen what is better." Commentator Darrel Bock put it this way, "It is a great temptation to serve at the expense of being fed spiritually. That is what Jesus’ remark to Martha means. Some activities can wait. There is a time for work and time to listen."

Eugene Peterson, in his book The Contemplative Pastor, makes much the same point. He says that in his desire to not get consumed by all the little details of life and ignore what is most important, he strives to be an "unbusy pastor." By this he doesn’t mean that he tries to get out of work, but that "the word busy is the symptom not of commitment but of betrayal. It is not devotion but defection" ^{(p. 17)}. Busyness, he says, is not a sign of godly service, but of the avoidance of something more important, as it was in Martha’s case.

Of course, we live in a busy world. The necessary and expected activities of life just sort of lend themselves to us always going and doing. It’s hard to have jobs, kids, be involved in church, in sports or in some other group function and not be exceptionally busy at times. Plus, I doubt that any of us would deny that our egos don’t enter into it. The truth is that, in some ways, it feels "good" to be busy. Stephen Covey, in his book First Things First, says this: