Sermon 7/18/04
Cite Your Source - Luke 10:38-42
(view lectionary notes for this text)
"I come to the garden alone while the dew is still on the roses, and the voice I hear falling on my ear, the Son of God discloses. And he walks with me and he talks with me, and he tells me I am his own, and the joy we share as we tarry there, none other has ever known. He speaks, and the sound of his voice is so sweet the birds hush their singing, and the melody that he gave to me within my heart is calling. I'd stay in the garden with him though the night around me be falling, but he bids me go; thru the voice of woe his voice to me is calling. And he walks with me and he talks with me, and he tells me I am his own, and the joy we share as we tarry there, none other has ever known."
I'll admit that this hymn, "In the Garden", has never been a personal favorite, save for one reason - that it was the favorite of my late grandfather, Millard Mudge, and by default I like anything he liked, his preference giving something an extra edge in my mind. But on its own, the hymn has not had much appeal for me. The tune is pretty basic and sentimental, the words are cute, but I've never thought of it as a deep or challenging hymn, the kind I prefer. But this hymn enjoys widespread popularity - not only in this congregation, where it takes number 4 on our top ten list, but also in the wider community, where it is a favorite across the country.
This hymn was written in 1913 by C. Austin Miles, and it is based on the text from John 20:11-18, where Mary Magdalene encounters the resurrected Christ, but does not at first recognize her teacher. Miles wrote it after being asked by a music publisher for a hymn text that would be "sympathetic in tone, breathing tenderness in every line; one that would bring hope to the hopeless, rest for the weary, and downy pillows to dying beds." Miles flipped open his Bible and fell on the story of Jesus and Mary after his resurrection. He was filled with visions of this encounter. Miles shared about his writing process, recorded in the book 101 Hymn Stories (1): "I awakened in full light, gripping the Bible, with muscles tense and nerves vibrating. Under the inspiration of this vision I wrote as quickly as the words could be formed the poem exactly as it has since appeared. That same evening I wrote the music."
Our gospel lesson for today examines the story of a different Mary, not Mary Magdalene, but Mary of Bethany, Mary sister of Martha and Lazarus. It's a very short reading, but carries a strong message in its few sentences. Jesus enters the home of sisters Mary and Martha. Mary sits at Jesus' feet, listening to him, while Martha is distracted by what we read as "her many tasks," perhaps preparing a meal, straightening the home. She becomes upset that Mary does not join in her help, and asks Jesus to intervene. Jesus, however, responds saying, "Martha, Martha, you are distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her."
I have to admit that I come from this story feeling a bit sorry for poor Martha. She's gotten a bad wrap, I think, forever set in stone in our scriptures. Last week I mentioned that being called a "Good Samaritan" is a compliment with origins in that story from the Bible. Conversely, today when we say "so-and-so is such a Martha," we don't mean it in a good way, and we don't mean Martha Stewart!. We mean that a person gets caught up in the busy work, the details, instead of enjoying an event. So, for this one brief scene in the thousand plus pages of scriptures we have, Martha goes down in history with a bad reputation, much like "doubting Thomas" and "Judas, who later betrayed him."
And what, we ask ourselves, did Martha do that was so bad? She had company in her home. Who would not be bustling around, trying to make them feel welcome and ready, trying to make sure they were comfortable, well fed, and enjoying their presence. Imagine Martha's frustration, then, first at Mary's lack of help, then at Jesus chastising her not Mary. Jesus must have some reason, some deeper reason for saying that Mary has chosen the better part, since surely he would understand the everyday tasks that we all must do. I'm reminded of a metaphor my mother often uses when she's talking about scripture. She always would say that reading the bible for her is like reading a letter from a friend. If the friend shows up at the door, you don't say - come back, I'm busy reading your letter! You put down the letter, and enjoy the time with your friend. That's how she approaches her reading of scripture - sometimes she needs to put down the words, and just experience God present in her life. The scriptures are good - but experience God, being with the living Christ - who wouldn't choose that over the written accounts? I think this is a little bit what we see happening with Martha and Mary. Martha is taking care of responsibilities, but she is missing spending time with Jesus, time that is precious and short, time that she will regret not taking later, I bet. She could be learning, listening, like Mary, whose attention is focused on Christ, like a sponge absorbing as quickly as possible, like someone being refueled.
We have a lot to learn, I think, from Mary and Martha. Despite what we may think, we're all Martha-like in some ways. I look at this congregation, and I see a very active church. I only need think of the things we have done in the year I have been here. We've done Harvest Supper, we've done Crop Walk, and Relay for Life. We have a Sunday School program, our youth have done a 30 hour famine. We have men's club, and UMW. We've got choir and chimes and dancers and drama. We make health kits and school kits. We collect canned goods and work at Salvation Army. We're here, building community, and we're out there, ministering to God's children. And this work that we do is good, blessed work, work that God calls us to do, work that is fulfilling the gospel message, announcing God's reign here on earth.
However, all of our work is nothing if our source, our basis, our foundation, is not clear. Why do we do what we do? We must ask ourselves: what is the center, what is the source of our lives, the foundation for all that we do? If our actions are based on anything other than the love and grace of God who created us, then our endeavors will be empty of the kind of meaning that God desires for our lives. During her Episcopal address at annual conference this year, Bishop Violet Fisher said, "Church work is not singing in the choir, working at the spaghetti dinner, maintaining the church building. Church work is making disciples! We are not open to be a country club. We are not open to be a rotary. We are open to be the church of Jesus Christ."
In a program in elementary school, I briefly had the fun of learning some basic - very, very basic - skills in design and architecture. One rule I remember very clearly. You must always use your pattern when measuring. If you need 12 pieces of wood cut identically, you make one, mark it clearly as your pattern, and then always return to using that particular pattern piece as you cut each additional piece. Otherwise, each piece will turn out slightly larger than the first, slightly different from the shape you intended.
I think our faith lives function in much the same way. We must always return to the source or the pattern, or else we start to look less and less like the one who created us in the first place. Our source gives our life work meaning. Martha's contribution is important, and required. But if such work is not based in the source of Mary's resting presence in Christ, is it not enough, and cannot be sustained. Only one thing is needed - to be centered in God, fueled by God, sourced by God - this is the better part.
But, of course, we're not off the hook. We cannot simply stay settled, basking in Christ's peaceful presence. Like Christ himself, who spent time often with God in prayer, then returned to his work of teaching and preaching, we have a whole world waiting who needs to hear of God's loving grace. Returning to our hymn focus today, we can sense the strength received by the narrator from the time spent with Christ in the garden, but we are also aware of the final verse that prompts us: "I'd stay in the garden with him, though night around me be falling, but he bids me go, through voice of woe his voice to me is calling." With Christ as our strength, we are ready to go out and to serve, to do and to give and to love, as Martha sought to do.
Come, come to the garden. Here, let yourself experience the love of God, the peace of Christ, the moving inspiration of the Holy Spirit. Listen, as God calls you God's own beloved creation, God's precious child. This is your source, always our source, always our reason for living and being and doing. With Christ within us, we reach to the world around us - this is the better part. Amen.
(1) Quoted from "101 Hymn Stories" by Kenneth Osbeck. Kregel Publishers, Grand Rapids, MI, 1982.