The Parable of the Two Sisters

Dear Old Friend,

I’m writing this to you Thanksgiving night.  I hope you had a wonderful time with your family.  I know that most of the responsibility falls on your shoulders this holiday, but I hope you were still able to enjoy the day!

I’ve just returned home from spending a lovely afternoon and evening with my son and his family.  I only had a few dishes that I was asked to prepare, and, although I offered my services today, I was set free to have a delightful time with my little four year old grandson while others slaved away in the kitchen.

The parable of Mary and Martha in Luke 10:38-42 crossed my mind a couple of times.  Yes, I said "parable", even though it is a story about real people in a real situation.  A man by the name of Fred Smith used to say that all of life illustrates Bible doctrine, and I happen to agree.  Oftentimes real stories about real people have a deeper meaning than what seems apparent on the surface. 

I am absolutely certain that you would be able to tell me how “The” sermon about the story of Mary and Martha typically goes.  Everyone who has attended church for any length of time has heard it.  It begins by telling us that Martha was too busy worrying about all of the "unimportant" things to be done, while Mary sat at Jesus feet; and, when Martha tried to get Jesus to make Mary help her, Jesus put her in her place and told her that Mary had chosen the right thing, while she had not.  

We are asked to ponder whether we are a Martha or a Mary, with the implication that being a Martha is bad and being a Mary is good. This leaves those who like to serve feeling guilty, while those who prefer to sit around and read feel virtuous.

Then we in the congregation are admonished to be intentional about putting Jesus first in our lives, primarily by having quiet time, preferably in the morning.  And we are encouraged to learn to say “No”, even to seemingly good things, so that our lives will be less busy, and we will have more time to sit at Jesus’ feet.  Right?  You could recite it with me, couldn’t you?

We have a problem, however, if this story was simply intended to be about practical tips for Christian Living.  Hospitality is listed as one of the spiritual gifts and, in real life, Martha was simply trying to be a good hostess, which was the hospitable thing to do.  It would have been rude for her not to do anything for her guest.  

Also, in real life, the right thing for Mary to do would certainly have been to help her sister with “all the preparations that had to be made”.  If both of them had worked together the tasks would have taken half the time and then both of them could have sat down and listened to Jesus. 

It was reasonable for Martha to be upset, because she knew this to be true and she expected Jesus to back her up; and, if this was just a real life story, Jesus would have backed her up.  He would  probably have talked to Mary about how we need to share the load, be sensitive to each other’s feelings and needs, and not just think of ourselves.  He might have pointed out to her that Martha could also have benefitted from sitting at his feet, but that Mary’s selfishness had robbed her of that opportunity.  And, he would have been right. 

So, why didn’t he?  And, what is it that we have missed by telling the story, ad nauseam,  in such a way that we shame all of the real life Marthas for trying to be good hostesses while making the selfish, insensitive Marys the heroines for not helping out?  I believe we have missed the point that this is a parable about works and grace, rather than a practical guide for Christian behavior.

Parable Martha represents all those who live as though they need to do things for God in order to earn his favor; those who believe that they have to have it all together and must work tirelessly in order to prove to themselves, to God and to others that they are genuine Christians.  They worry that if they rest for a moment, they will appear to be displaying a lack of commitment to the Kingdom. They are bothered because they look at themselves and see how far short they fall from what they know they should be and should do.

In that context, Jesus’ response to Martha makes sense, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and bothered about so many things, but only one thing is necessary.  Mary has chosen the good part, which shall not be taken away from her.”

Parable Mary represents those who understand that the “good part” is Jesus.  Not just making him their first priority, but realizing that he is everything; knowing there is nothing they need to or can do for God to earn his favor.  

Jesus has already satisfied every requirement.  We have nothing to prove to ourselves, to God or to others.  God is not looking for a display of our commitment to his Kingdom to be found in our endless good behavior; he is looking for the gratitude and amazement on our faces as we sit in humble awe at Jesus’ feet and finally grasp that when he said “It is finished”, he meant it.  Jesus alone is the “one thing” which is necessary and can never be taken away.

So, I say we need to hear more sermons telling all of the Real Life Marthas it's okay to serve with all of their hearts, souls and might, without shame!  And all of the Real Life Marys should be told to get up off their bottoms and help their sisters!

But, more than that, I think we need to hear more sermons telling the Parable Marthas that they can stop their striving to earn God’s love and approval and allow themselves to become like the Parable Marys who joyfully rest at Jesus’ feet, knowing that, because of what he did, the love and approval they have always longed for is already theirs.

I need to hear that every day! 

Love Always,

Bonnie

Naked

 Dear Old Friend,

Do you remember the Hans Christian Andersen story of The Emperor’s New Clothes?  It’s about a vain king and the two swindlers who decided to take advantage of his vanity.  These swindlers claimed to be able to weave magnificent clothing which would be visible to all who were wise, but invisible to fools.  They put on a great show of fashioning and creating these clothes, which no one could see, since there were no clothes; but, no one in the kingdom was willing to admit that they were unable to see the garments, for fear that they would be exposed to everyone else as the fools they now believed themselves to be.

The charade culminated with the king leading a grand procession through the kingdom, naked, while his courtiers carried his invisible train and the people ooohed and aaahed at the king’s magnificent attire.  No one wanted to confess the truth because of what they believed it would reveal about them; until, finally, a little child, who didn’t have a need to protect his reputation, stated the obvious, “But he hasn’t got anything on!”

 

There’s something about the way Christians have presented the concept of Sanctification that reminds me of this story; and, because I’m old and I’m tired of pretending, I’m finally willing to state the truth:  I’m naked.  And I’m definitely not the only one!  

I have been told my whole life that I not only had to get better, but that I most assuredly would get better as I got older, because I am a Christian and God wants me to be transformed into the image of Christ. To not get better would be the equivalent of either denying the power of God to change me, or admitting that I was choosing to block that power in my life. Fear of acknowledging either of those things has kept me from being honest.

But, the truth is, I don’t see that I’m much better than I ever was. As a matter of fact, I was better at pretending that I was good when I was younger.  The older I get the less able or interested I am in putting forth the effort to hide my faults.  I am still not as loving as I wish I was, I’m still arrogant and I’m still impatient – maybe more now than when I was young! My New Year’s Resolutions to be more generous or thoughtful have fallen by the wayside.  When I take a step forward in one area, I lose ground in another. It’s not that I don’t want to change, I truly desire to be the person I have always believed God wants me to be, but I just don’t see it happening.

I confess that my apparent lack of progress has been a growing cause of concern for me over the years, specifically because, as I mentioned above, I believed that God wanted and expected me to improve, and that he, therefore, must be offering me the power to improve, which must then mean that I have been disappointing him by stubbornly refusing that power, even though I didn’t mean to or realize that I was.  When I was young it was much easier to keep believing in the hope of personal Holiness, that next year or the next I would see real growth; but, at this stage of my life, it seems prudent to explore alternative possibilities. 

I hope that God truly has been working in me and that, in his wisdom, he has hidden his work from me because he knows I would just destroy it by being proud of it if I was aware of it.

But, primarily, my hope rests in the understanding that being “conformed to the image of Christ” (Romans 8:29), or “transformed into his image” (2 Corinthians 3:18), has more to do with the change that happens in my heart as I behold in humble gratitude and amazement what he has done for me—that he has satisfied all of God’s expectations on my behalf and has paid for all of my failures—than it does with outward changes in my behavior. As I continue to look at him and not at  how I’m doing, gratefully accepting my complete and continued dependence on him as my savior rather than expecting that I will need him less and less as I get better and better, I believe that his image will begin to shine through as my own recedes.

I don’t want to keep trying to appear wise and good by pretending to be something I am not.  I don’t want to boast about my own beautiful clothes when I am really naked.  I want to cast my lot as a fool with the Apostle Paul in 1 Corinthians 1:26-31 when he says,

²⁶ For consider your calling, brothers: not many of you were wise according to worldly standards, not many were powerful, not many were of noble birth. ²⁷ But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong; ²⁸ God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are, ²⁹ so that no human being might boast in the presence of God. ³⁰ And because of him you are in Christ Jesus, who became to us wisdom from God, righteousness and sanctification and redemption, ³¹ so that, as it is written, “Let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord.”  (ESV)

The only wisdom I have is Christ and the only clothing I have or need is the robe of His righteousness. I would be a fool not to admit it!  What boundless relief!

Love Always,

Bonnie

Mutual Blindness

 

Dear Old Friend,

Have you ever heard of the Johari Window Model?  Back in the touchy feely ‘70’s, I went on a weeklong workshop where I learned all kinds of things about myself.  Much of it I considered to be valuable insight, some of it was garbage; but one thing I learned about was Johari’s Window and it made such an impression that it keeps coming back to me all these years later, with a more biblical slant.

Joseph Luft and Harry Ingham, two psychologists, developed this model to help people better understand their interactions with others.  Picture a window with four panes. 

One pane represents what both you and others know about you; this is called the Open area.  Next to it is the Blind area, which represents what others know about you, but you do not know about yourself.  Then there is the Hidden area which represents what only you know about yourself.  And, finally, there is the Unknown area, which represents what no one knows about you, not even you (I would say this is what God alone knows about you).  The purpose of this model, according to the creators, Joe and Harry, is for you to increase the size of the Open area in your relationships, by sharing what you know about yourself with others, and receiving feedback from others as to what they see which you do not.

On the surface, that sounds like a great idea, but what bothers me the most about this window is the Blind area. I’m not comfortable with the thought that there are things which other people see about me of which I am unaware.  Since Johari’s window is a psychological window, these “things” aren’t physical, like how I look when I am walking; they are behavioral and relational things which others have identified as “that’s-how-she-is”, of which I know nothing. The very thought of it makes me feel vulnerable and self-protective.  I have no control over what I don’t know about myself.  On a feeling level, my assumption is that these “things” are negative and that I’m being misunderstood, misinterpreted and judged unfairly.  And, it occurs to me that, the reason for this assumption is because that is what I do with others.  We all do.

In every interaction, whether it is a onetime encounter or in a close relationship with a friend or family member, we observe and evaluate data.  If an unknown driver of a red car speeds up and cuts us off, he’s a selfish jerk.  If a so-called friend does all the talking and never seems to be interested in listening, she’s a narcissist and is soon no longer considered a friend. 


Sometimes, after observing and evaluating, we take it upon ourselves to expand the other person’s Open area by enlightening them with our knowledge.  In the case of the driver of the red car, it may be by a prolonged horn honk, or a brief hand gesture.  In the instance of the so-called friend, we may unceremoniously dump her and no longer return her calls; or, we may go the other direction and explain her faults at great length, complete with examples and illustrations, with the goal of opening her eyes to her Blind spot and “fixing” her to a degree where we will then be comfortable with keeping the relationship.

The problem with expanding someone else’s Open area by revealing what we believe we know of their Blind spot is that we could be wrong; we might misinterpret because of what the other person has kept Hidden or because of something that is in the Unknown area.  The red car might be on the way to the hospital due to an emergency; the person who is doing all the talking might be desperately lonely and have no one else who will listen.  The less than ideal actions we observe in others are only the outward manifestations of each person’s internal struggle.

The fact is, when it comes to our own Blind areas, we want others to be understanding and compassionate with what they see in us.  We don’t want them to simply assume the worst, but to view us through the eyes of love, or at least to give us the benefit of the doubt.  But when it comes to the Blind areas of others, our initial response is usually to observe, evaluate, judge and then to either reject or attempt to fix them.  We have very little patience with the inconvenience of another’s blindness.

The problem with that is, of course, we all have Blind areas which can be used against us.  No one is exempt; yet we cling to our double standard. Jesus, understanding that we are all broken and that the only faults which we can see clearly belong to others, told us that we are not qualified to expand anyone else’s Open area (Matthew 7:1-5).

Then he took all of our brokenness, both known and unknown, and died so that one day we could be completely whole; relieving us of the burden of "fixing" and freeing us to simply offer his grace and mercy to each other in our mutual blindness.

Thank you, my precious friend, for always being gentle with my blind spots!

Love Always,

Bonnie