Refusing Work

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 few things are needed—or indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.”

Luke 10:38-42

There are some nights when I go to bed, thinking I’m about to read a book for 10 or 15 minutes. I’m the type of person who always has a book I’m reading, a status made only more consistent because of how I can so quickly pull up a book from the library on my phone. Yet some nights, it’s not 10 or 15 minutes. Having made the wise choice to try to go to sleep at a reasonable time, to get my nine hours, I find myself instead awake in the early hours of the morning having instead just read an entire book. Hours and hours of reading. You might think, wow, good for you! Way to read! But I’d actually be a little more concerned, and have been, about how I’m stealing those hours of sleep just to have a little time to do what I love.

I’ve seen this phenomenon referenced. It’s these stolen nighttime hours. People aren’t always reading, mind you, but they’re certainly taking advantage of the time. There’s something about the freedom we feel late at night, after the work emails have gone quiet and the kids are sleeping, that suddenly, this is the uninterrupted time. People gleefully stay awake just to finally do what they want. This is the free time no one yet has commodified. And so there are people all over finally paying attention to what they want, watching that movie or reading that book or generally forgoing sleep just to have a focused moment, because who is going to call you at one in the morning?

I certainly know that feeling, to me which feels like the freedom to focus. Reading books is one of the great joys of my life and yet there often feels like little time in daylight hours to sit down and consume books in the way that I love. Instead, my daytime is about managing meal preparation, phone notifications, multiple jobs, and social and family connections.

There’s something a little depressing to think that my best reading is relegated to these midnight hours. I’ve often wondered if there was a way that I could use what is probably my best skill (reading quickly, joyfully, and broadly) to serve others. So far, that skill and attention surrounds the reality of what I actually do on a day to day. There’s just too much else. I’m distracted and busy.

It would be simple for me to think that this predicament is unique. Yet we can see the issues of attention and busyness in what is likely my favorite story in the bible, that of Mary and Martha.

At the heart of this story is the conflicting nature of attention and distraction. Mary, the one who is able to sit and listen. Martha, the one who simply cannot stand still. Jesus, who gently calls the sisters to their fullest, most attentive lives.

I wonder what that form of spirituality was creating in the lives of these sisters. Because there’s an interpretation of this story that falls in line with one of the traps of our current day. This is the lie of self-care. Here’s what I mean. We can look at unjust wages, or burnt out caregivers, or a world of inaccessibility and somehow think that the solution is on the individual. To just relax. To take a bubble bath or eat an indulgent meal. And suddenly all that stress would melt away. But of course that’s the lie of self-care, when what is so often needed is community care. To actually change the system that required so much work and burnout in the first place.

And so I find hopefulness in seeing that Jesus did not tell Martha to relax or just calm down. But instead he says this cryptic phrase, “Only one thing is needed.” This to me speaks more of attention, of focus, and moving from individual distraction to collective attention. For Martha to refuse labor perhaps then is less of a break for her to catch her individual breath, but to recognize what would be needed for the radical message of Jesus to actually take hold.

Think of it this way. We know that Jesus stood against much of the injustice of the Roman Empire. And yet, in his teaching, he did not simply organize a five step plan to take down the system (although I often wish he had). Instead he taught in parables! Parables! Long slow teaching that requires careful thought. He opened the door slowly but surely for people to find radical change through slowness, through one dinner, one story, one moment of patience at a time. Not to mention that he didn’t even really kick off his ministry until the age of 30! What was he even doing in the meantime? What was he cultivating? And yet somehow it was all at the right time.

There is a performance art piece called the Trainee by Pilvi Takala that I shared with you in the morning email–I invite you to take a look. In this delightfully subversive and honestly funny piece, Takala spent time integrating herself into a workplace, only after a month to cease acting in standard, productive ways. Instead, she did things like ride the elevator, up and down, up and down. Alternatively she sat in a single location just gazing off into space. How did she describe it to people when they would come up to her and ask what she was doing? Brain work. And unsurprisingly, her coworkers did not become cocospiritors, but instead panicked. In an inter-office email sent out about her behavior, a coworker described her actions as “weird and funny, but also scary to some extent.”

As it turns out, focused non action is weird, funny, and scary. There’s a power to stopping and focusing. Just ask anyone who has participated in a boycott or strike. Collective action is fundamentally about focus–about drawing attention away from individual distraction and constant movement and instead toward a singular focus. In recent years there have been many “die-ins”--moments of protesting police brutality. These often are large groups of people who find a public space and lie down on the ground, unmoving, blocking the typical movement of those who suddenly are drawn to focus, to pay attention.

This is not scrambling to find free time in the middle of the night. This is deliberate action, in the middle of what could be endless work.

To stop, focus, listen, redirect–in all of this is power. It’s more than a nice idea.

This simple story of two sisters reminds me of all these things. It reminds me of how to listen to Jesus’ voice, reminding, only one thing is needed. It is not a story, I believe, about shaming Martha. It is a story of rediscovering power.

Martha, too, can stop. And so can we.

Community Prayer:

Stop us, Lord, from what we are doing. Stop us from participating in unjust systems of hurry, where labor is exploited and workers are harmed. Stop us from believing the lie that the world needs our frenzy. Stop us from expecting unfair actions from others.

Call us instead to the attentiveness that the world needs. Time at your feet is not wasted, God.

Today I pray for each of those gathered in our community. You know all who gather by name. You can call each person gently, insistently, so that way they may know your teaching. Do so, Lord Jesus. Speak and be near to us. Let us hear your teaching so we are not guided only by our own wishes, but by your transformation of the worth.

Help us know you in this time of Holy Communion. Let it be for us an experience of the mystery beyond what we know, that we can taste the goodness of your Kingdom.

Challenge us to become your body, to know that there is no community unless we make it, unless we draw our attention to one another and your presence. Let us understand this sacred time as a chance to begin that practice anew.

Amen.