[10/26/10-10/28/10]

For the next few days, I shall have my attention on Martha. Nothing sums up Martha so well as this comment from the ISBE article on her sister. “Martha serves. Of course she serves. She always serves.” Every picture we have of this woman finds her doing acts of service. The actions do not change. The woman thus acting, on the other hand, has changed rather a lot. I don’t really need to say much about the story of Martha. It’s quite familiar. What I prefer to contemplate are those lessons I might take from the sketch of her progress as we have it laid out before us.

Consider that earliest encounter we have record of in Luke 10:38-42. Here we see a Martha driven to distraction by all her efforts to serve. That, indeed, is the issue Jesus brings home to her. The problem, Martha, is not that you are trying to serve others. The problem is that your efforts to serve have become a distraction rather than a service. They are a distraction to you and they are a distraction to those you seek to serve.

How is it that Martha is so thoroughly engrossed in these efforts? Maybe it’s to do with coming to the responsibility of adulthood too early. Maybe, as the eldest child, she has been thrust into this place of responsibility before the due time, and has had to just deal with it ever since. She’s grown used to dealing with it. She’s grown used to being the matriarchal stand in for this family, and maybe even patriarchal to some degree. But, in doing so she has come all but unmoored from any spiritual foundation. When Jesus answers her demand that He tell Mary to get off her seat and help, He is actually pulling her back to that foundation. Martha, there’s nothing wrong with what Mary is doing. She’s chosen the one thing that matters. You’ve chosen to serve. Nobody made you do it, nor ought you try to make anybody else. But, Martha, if it is your choice, then rejoice in serving. Serve as unto God.

Indeed, on that first occasion it could easily be questioned whether Martha served with an eye to being helpful to the kingdom or whether she served because it was customary. What we are shown as we contemplate the full sweep of this Martha sketch is a woman that has moved from the latter to the former. She has come to this role either of necessity, as I have suggested, or of custom, which is little different, really. It could hardly be expected that Lazarus would do the housework, now could it? And Mary is younger. She might be expected to help, certainly, but to take charge? No. That’s Martha’s place. And she’ll show them, too! They thought she wasn’t ready for this role, but, she’s ready. Why, she’ll serve like nobody else has served. She’ll be such an incredible hostess that they’ll never find the like.

She is distracted by her works and her works are a distraction to those who would really prefer to be in pursuit of kingdom purposes. Therein lies a question we do well to contemplate, a ministry self-check if you will. Ever and always there is the question of motivation. Why am I part of this? Why have I signed up? Is it simply because this is what’s expected of me? Is it because I feel I must do so, a question of status or some such? If the answer to any of these is in the affirmative, then I’ve got issues. I may be in the right place, but I’m there for the wrong reasons, and all my efforts are not only of no use, they are having negative consequences. They are distracting me from things that matter, and they are distracting those I claim to be serving!

At present, I am between ministries, as it were, not actively involved in any specific aspect of church life. I don’t expect it to last, but it’s an interesting place to stop for a moment. Indeed, it’s a good opportunity to consider how these questions of mine might apply to those things I had been doing. As a worshiper, why was I up there week after week, blowing my horn? Was it because that seemed the thing I ought to do? Sometimes. Was it a chance to say, ‘look at me’? Sadly, yes, that was sometimes the case. No, it wasn’t always that way, but towards the end, it seemed something had changed. Whether it was just me, or whether it was the team itself, the change was there. I suspect it was a bit of both. For my part, it became painfully clear that I could no longer be in that position. Was it that my skills weren’t up to the task? No, although they’re sure a bit rusty just now. The issue isn’t skill. The issue is motive. Once the mindset becomes skill-promotion rather than God-honoring, the whole deal just falls apart.

What of other efforts, for I’ve been out of that particular ministry for some time now, however much my heart may desire to once more play before the Lord. (Honestly, I really need to assess whether those are just words or truly the reflection of my heart.) What of that period behind the soundboard? Was that for God? I don’t suppose so, really. It was for His servants, not Him. It was because there was a need. People needed me. Doesn’t it feel nice to be needed? But, what has that to do with ministry? Ministry isn’t about feeling needed. It’s about being called. It’s about doing the thing God has given us to do because it’s for Him and for no other reason.

Teaching? Hmm. It’s been a rarity in recent times that I actively teach. Perhaps that is well. It has allowed me to mature a bit, I think. It has allowed me to approach the task with a degree of humility that is, truth be told, rather unusual for me. I think on that last assignment I had at men’s retreat. The only non-minister given time, and in the end, given more time than any of the ministers. It would have been so easy to get puffed up over that. Hey! Look at me, I’ve arrived! But, the proper response was humility. Who am I to be sharing the microphone with such as these? By the grace of God I was able to deliver what He had given me to deliver with that proper mindset. But, then it gets hard! Then, there’s the kudos being handed to me, and by the very ministers I felt so unequal to being counted among. How hard the battle for humility then? I think I managed to hold my course through that, but you know what? I could feel a change in myself. I could feel a shift, and it wasn’t necessarily for the better. It was that old companion pride trying to slide back into his accustomed place. Ever vigilant! That I must be, if I am to ever win the battle against pride.

As I consider how I might best serve in this new house I am in, this I need to consider prayerfully. I need to consider it not so much in light of where I see my talents, or where I would like to serve, but where would God have me – if He would have me? Where am I being called into place by the One I serve? If I can hear that clearly, then I know I shall be a blessing in the place He sets me, and this is all I could ask. If I can then serve as serving my King, serve for the joy of contributing to the kingdom, rather than for any sense of personal gain whatsoever, then I know that these efforts will truly serve to keep men’s attention on what God is doing and not distracting them from focusing upon Him and His great goodness.

Looking at that first encounter with Martha, it would be easy to come away supposing that her willingness to serve is being decried as less holy or less righteous than her sister’s attentive idleness. But, this really is not the case, as can be seen by the later images we have of Martha. Martha was not being called to stop serving, only to serve rightly, with an eye towards making attentiveness easier. There is no distinction in the blessedness of service and the blessedness of stillness. Neither is more or less good than the other. Neither necessarily displays a lesser love, a lesser faith.

What we are shown in Mary and Martha is a contrast of character. Martha’s natural tendency – whatever psychological reasons we may deem the cause of her tendency, it remains natural – is to serve, to be active, to contribute to the necessities of provision. This doesn’t mean her faith in God the Provider is any less. Not at all! It could easily be argued that her urge to work is tied to the fact that she sees that God is always working. In that sense, her efforts glorify God by making His ways evident. Even as Mary’s stillness displays a reverent awe for God’s greatness, so Martha’s service displays an ardent desire to be like Him. And, aren’t both of these things commended to us as a way to live?

You know, this may come as a bit of a shock, but God did not create you bad. Neither did He create me bad. Or, look at that one with whom you just can’t see eye to eye. God didn’t make that one bad, either. God doesn’t create badly. His own verdict upon mankind is that He created us very good. Do we suppose that He didn’t, in that moment, realize what would come of this mankind He had created? Of course He did! From before the first moment of Creation, He knew. He knew that you would be created, that you would be created the you that you are. He knew that you would be in need of a savior, just like the rest. And, He knew that you would be called to the Savior that He provided against your need. He knew, my friend, that you and I would be flawed in the extreme, and yet, He looked upon us as He looked upon that first Adam, and He said, “Ah! Very good!” Stunning, isn’t it?

Of course, God’s view of us, in that place before Creation, did not (does not) stop with the you and I that are here in this moment. His view looks right on forward to the day that we join Him in eternity, His work upon us finally completed, and we standing before Him, seeing Him as He truly is, and finally (to our great relief) fully grown into the very image of Him we come to worship.

This is what we need to recognize in that other brother that so bothers us, and in recognizing it about him, we must surely recognize it about our own situation. We are not even, at this point, diamonds in the rough, I don’t think. We may be somewhat progressed beyond being the lump of coal that will someday, given the right pressures, become a diamond in the rough. We are as yet a lump of clay that is barely set upon the potter’s wheel. Our annoying brother is but another lump on another wheel. In both cases, a shape is emerging, but that shape is different for this one than for that one. Perhaps one is being fashioned to serve in a way not far different from the alabaster jar of this dinner; a thing of beauty, but a thing whose purpose cannot fully be realized until broken. There’s something to look forward to, no? Perhaps another is being fashioned a serving bowl, fashioned to be filled, but only so as to have that which fills dished out to others. Both vessels of honor, in this case, and yet the honor of the vessel is so different.

In our present, half-formed condition, it would be easy to despise what we see forming in the other, because he is not yet fully formed. We focus on the imperfections that remain; the edge that is not yet smoothed, the face of this stone that is not yet polished. Of course, when we look upon ourselves, well; maybe we’re too close to see the imperfections. Vision blurs. It looks pretty good to us! But, the reality is our edges are in just as great a need of smoothing, or faces in just as great a need of polishing. We are all of us Martha.

There’s good news in that. For, the Martha we meet in these later narratives, the Martha who mourns the loss of her brother, and the Martha serving at this meal honoring the One Who restored her brother to life, is not the same. She serves, true. It is her nature. But that nature has had the benefit of Godly nurture, and now, she serves not out of duty, not out of any sense of necessity or propriety. She serves for the joy of serving God. As such, her service has long since ceased to be a distraction to those who would seek and serve Him, as well. It is an aid to that very same end. All of her effort does no more than to say, “look at Him!” Even in her service, you see, Martha has found that one thing that Mary had at the outset. She has found Jesus and His inestimable worth, and this is now everything to her.

I know it’s a theme I hit upon often, but there is this great message to be had from Martha’s story. She has done as we must do. She has moved from the “Why me, Lord?” of that first dinner to the “How may I serve You, Lord?” of this last dinner. How we need to have this mindset in us! How we need to break free of this tendency to whine about our circumstances! I need to do this. I like to think I’m free of such things, but the reality is I am not. When things turn sour, I am forced to face this in myself.

Now, let me say this much: I am not advocating that we stuff these negative responses. Not at all! But, we neither can we afford to wallow in them. I draw my model from David, that man after God’s own heart. He did not fear to bring his pain and confusion before the Lord. “How long, God?” You know, we catch sight of David’s humanity in the psalms he has left us. I can only barely imagine the consternation he must have endured. I mean, here he was, anointed to be king of Israel and what’s his lot? He’s on the run, hunted by a mad (though anointed by God) man, and living in a cave! This is how You bless me, God? Yikes!

Understand this! David’s strength lay in the fact that he didn’t pretend. He didn’t work up his holy mindset before he came to God. He came to God with his heart on his sleeve. This, I dare say, is precisely what caused God to call him a man after His own heart. It wasn’t that David was somehow perfect in holiness. Far from it! But, David was honest. He knew God well enough to know that there was no risk in his honesty. Indeed, far less risk in coming before God with honest emotions than to play this game of pretending we don’t feel the way we do. How can the doctor treat the symptom you keep hidden from him? How can God heal the spiritual wounds that you refuse to admit even exist?

So, David complains before God. Martha complains before God. Job complains before God. But, in each case, it doesn’t stop with complaining. It moves onward to, “even so, I will trust Him.” My problem is that I too often stop at the complaint. It’s not fair! How can this be good? And, You call Yourself a good God! Explain this, then! But, we don’t want an explanation. We just want to complain. There is such a huge distance between “not fair” and “I don’t understand”. There is a huge distance between “how could You” and “how can this be”.

For us, that distance lies in, as our Ephesians study on Sunday has made the point, changing our perspective. We need to see things not as obligations but as opportunities. We need to see our hard places not as trials but as training. We have got to move on from complaint to seeking the purpose God has in our situation. If we can move from “How can You allow this to happen to me” into a spirit that says, “what is it You have for me in this”, what a difference! If we would stop complaining about how bad it is, and seek instead to see the good that God is working, what a difference!

It is, after all, in the hard places that faith really shines. It is when everything seems to be falling apart, spiraling down the drain, that we are given to discern how fully we believe that God is good and works all things for good. Joseph in a fancy coat shows no particular strength of character in saying God is good. Joseph imprisoned on false charges with no real hope of reprieve, when he maintains that God is good, demonstrates faith unshakable.

This is part of what we see Martha facing at the grave of her brother. “Do you believe this?” I cannot, for the life of me, look at that question Jesus asks her without feeling a strong emphasis on the final word. It’s not enough to believe in God. It’s not enough to believe in Jesus. Demons believe, as we are reminded, and tremble at what they know is true. But, when your brother is dead, do you believe? No, don’t regurgitate the doctrinal point of resurrection. That’s not what I’m asking. It’s true, yes, but it’s not what you need to lay hold of right now. What you need is this: “Who believes in Me shall never die.” Do you understand this? Do you believe this? The grave means nothing! Chronic disease, dare I say it, means nothing! This is but a moment. I AM forever, and you, though you deal with these physical maladies for the brief days of earthly life, are forever with Me. If there is mourning in the night of this life, there is such an abundance of joy awaiting in the eternal morning of the next as will leave you laughing at the need you felt for such tears.

When we face the sorts of trials that Martha faced, we need to hear this same question from our Lord. I find this to be the case when my wife is dealing with the illness that so besets her. Yes, I know. God can heal. Maybe He even wills to in this case, but apparently not, for He has not, and what would prevent His will being done? But, this understanding of the situation comes of hearing the Word of God with ears that are listening with filters on which only hear the ability of man. Yes, yes. I know He can. But, in this specific case at this specific moment, I AM your Healer. Do you believe this? Truth is, most of the time, I’d have to say no. The evidence before my eyes seems too strong. But, faith is stronger. God is stronger. He is able, and honestly, my biggest problem is that, just like Martha, I need to believe Him not just on the theory, but on the application.

Another quick lesson from Martha, one I’ve touched upon already. Martha’s initial words to Jesus when He came to the place of mourning were not welcoming in the least. They were wholly accusatory. Where were You? What took You? The messengers we sent have been back for days, but not You, oh no! And, You call Yourself a friend of this family! Ha! If You hadn’t dawdled for so long, this wouldn’t have happened. It’s all Your fault God!

Ever been there? Ever dared? Ever really felt that way about how things are unfolding, but been kind of afraid to admit it? I mean, He is all powerful and all, which can make it a bit scary to consider lashing out. And, besides, there’s that within us which knows full well that these accusations can’t be right. But, they are honest expressions of what we feel in that moment. They are an exposing of the heart that really needs His attention more than ever in that moment. As such, it’s really something of an invitation to Him to come and touch that exposed, tender heart of ours and bring the Light of understanding. We are so afraid to be this brutally transparent with Him because, really, we’re kind of afraid it might reflect a loss of faith on our part. But, this, too, is a misunderstanding, a mis-assigning of responsibility for that faith.

If faith is by His grace, and not of ourselves (that no man may boast), then our faith is as solid as He is reliable. This outburst is not the evidence of a weak faith as we might suppose. In truth, it could be seen as evidence of a particularly strong faith, a faith brave enough and strong enough to question God. For the faithless, to question God might come naturally, might even be comforting. After all, if the atheist can successfully remove God from the equation of his life, who else is left to point out the error of his ways? Who else is left to pass judgment on him one way or the other? There is only his own opinion, which is necessarily going to be pretty good, no matter how awful the man. But, for the faithful, the idea of God being wrong, the least hint of a possibility that He is wrong in one matter, that He is inconsistent in even one matter, is terrifying. For, we understand that if this were ever to be true, He would cease to be. God cannot be God and fail of God’s perfections. Understanding this and yet to face Him with such questions upon our hearts, in a fashion, it demonstrates a faith that is so firmly established as to recognize that our questions, as strongly as we feel them, must be wrong. Whatever we may accuse Him of, at heart we know that we shall be found liars and Himself found True. In that light, then, the cry we cry is one after understanding. Please, Lord! Please, prove me wrong, or I am the most wretched of men! Though I rail against You at the moment, yet I love You. I want nothing so much as to be shown the error of my ways, the error of my thinking. I want nothing so much as to see You vindicated of the very charges I lay out. This is Martha’s great desire as she complains so bitterly of His lateness. I’m telling You it’s all Your fault, but I really want You to show me that it isn’t so.

I wonder if we recognize just how many would have walked away from Jesus for less cause than the death of a brother. Of course, I should have to argue that those who did so were never truly walking with Him in the first place. But, how many have found their faith tested by circumstances quite similar to Martha’s? And, how many of those have not had that resurrection experience at the other end of the trial to comfort them? I think back to that period when my dad was just finishing seminary and my mother was taken from him by cancer. For my part, I could see nothing in that situation to recommend this God he was planning to serve. This is your reward for joining His team? I’ll pass, thanks.

It took many long years to recognize the rightness of his choice in that trial. I remember, years later, when I had come to faith myself, that he told me his favorite book of the Bible was Job. Yes, I should certainly think so. So much has been taken from him over the years, and yet he still loves the Lord Who saved him. And, I have seen some of the story of his life. God truly saved him on many occasions, not solely on the spiritual level, but in earthly intervention. I have seen those same circumstances in my own past: the times that I would have done what could only have proven self-destructive, but God would not have it so. While I was yet His enemy! How I have lived that truth!

So, that question comes, the one I heard in song those years ago: What would you do if He said to give it all away? What if He were to decide that the healing my wife so longs for would be found in proceeding directly to His side? Would I sorrow for the loss? Oh, absolutely! Would I rejoice for her eternal liberty? Certainly, when once pain had subsided. Would I complain? Doubtless. But, would I lose faith in this God Who has so watched over my life, so shaped my development? Would I love Him any less? No. I honestly believe I can give that answer. No. None of this is to say that I would hope for such an outcome. Far from it! Far better, in my selfish view, that she be freed of these symptoms here in this lifetime, and thereby enabled to be at my side for many more years to come.

Nothing I’d like better, Lord, and You know that full well. But, my trust in You is not resting on that outcome. My trust in You is resting on You, and on nothing else.

Listen. This is the parting thought on Martha. Martha knew God better than we do ourselves, I think. She knew it was perfectly safe for her to express her real feelings to Him. She knew she could be honest with Him without fear of reprisal. Do we know Him that well? I don’t mean that we can come before His throne with nothing but disrespect and expect to be well received. But, God is not afraid of our honesty. He is not offended by our honesty. He hungers for our honesty! He wants nothing so much as for us to be as real with Him as Martha was, as David was.

I have been contemplating, of late, that promise we have that God is willing and able to do more than we even think or ask. Indeed, we may as well simply say that He already does more than we even think to ask. How often do you ask Him for breath? How often do you start out on the road mindful to ask His company? OK. Maybe you’re better at this faith stuff than I am. Me, I don’t remember nearly so often as I should. Yet, there He is! I’m breathing. I arrive safely at my destination. I am sustained day to day.

So, how is it that I consider so many things to be too trivial to bring to His attention? Honestly, is this consistent? For those we love, is there anything about them that we think trivial? What, you may be asking, does this have to do with Martha’s story? Only this: Martha wasn’t afraid to ask. She wasn’t even afraid to ask the impossible. She was open and honest with God. Now, I will balance this by noting that she certainly didn’t demand of God that He act in accord with her wishes. But, she made her wishes known. Isn’t this what Jesus Himself teaches us is right? Yes, God knows before we even ask. But, He loves us. He wants to hear from us. He wants us to share our hearts with Him, even knowing that He already knows our hearts better than we do. It’s not the knowledge He’s after. He already has that. It’s the intimacy. It’s the fellowship. It’s us opening up to Him.

You know, we sing that song, “This is my desire: to honor You.” I think God is singing another song in reply. “This is My desire: to hear from you.” Not to hear platitudes and polite honorifics, but to truly hear, to have me share my deepest feelings with Him. I suppose any husband must have heard similar desires from his wife at some point. They want that deep, emotional connection from a relationship that we, as men, may not find so necessary. Indeed, we may not even find it interesting or desirable. But, God does. We have, I think, been granted wives that we might come to understand Him better through them. It’s not just what she wants. It’s what He wants. Practice, practice!