"An Invitation to the Better Part" by Rev. Jillian Hankamer, 3/16/2025

A sermon for Northminster Church

Luke 10 :38-42

My grandaddy was tone-deaf. I always thought he was trying to sing badly to make the family laugh, but no. He was just that bad. His tone-deafness would have been little more than a family joke, however,  if it wasn’t for Grandaddy’s career as an Army Chaplain during which he spent years planning and leading worship services.  My mom told me the family would remind Grandaddy on a weekly basis to turn off his mic before hymns started because his voice was enough to throw the entire congregation off key. In addition to being tone-deaf, Grandaddy didn’t read music and so had a habit of choosing hymns based on their words rather than how singable they were.

Now, all pastors are guilty of this from time to time. I know I’ve chosen a few stinkers, but I never have and never will choose one of Grandaddy’s favorite hymns, “God of Concrete, God of Steel.” Written in 1964 by Richard G. Jones Written “it was inspired by a realisation of ‘the way in which all the symbols of the exciting modern world had become unrelated to our normal conception of God’, and by a complaint from a youth group that the imagery of hymnody was old-fashioned…It was a bold response to these perceived needs: it caused something of a sensation…”^[1]

Now I don’t know about this hymn being a sensation but here’s the first verse, “God of concrete, God of steel, God of piston and of wheel, God of pylon, God of steam, God, girder and of beam, God of atom, God of mine, All the world of power is Thine.”

I would like to defend Grandaddy as a fellow pastor and point out that the message of the hymn is nice, even if the words are quite niche. The problem Grandaddy faced was that he was the only one who liked the hymn, and he chose it way too often. So often, in fact, that my Grandmother told him he wouldn’t include it again if he wanted her to keep coming to church.

Grandaddy eventually began to ask for help with hymn selection, and “God of Concrete, God of Steel” was deleted from the rotation. But to this day, if you mention that hymn to my mom and her younger siblings, they will roll their eyes. It’s become part of our family lore, but I think there’s something sweet and very human about my Grandaddy’s inclusion of this hymn no one else liked.

Because haven’t we all enjoyed things that make other people roll their eyes? Haven’t we all seen value in something our family members would rather we get rid of? Like the stuffed Big Bird I’ve had since I was 5 or my best friend’s baby blanket, which she still sleeps with at night. Don’t we all have our own way of doing things? For example, my definition of a correctly loaded dishwasher and Erich’s effective but more higgledy-piggledy approach have led to several marital conversations. And haven’t we all been so caught up in doing what’s right, in doing what needs to be done, that we miss out on what’s happening around us?

Falling immediately after the Parable of the Good Samaritan and right before Jesus’ teaching of the Lord’s Prayer, this story of Martha and Mary has too often been used as a litmus test for modern believers. Particularly for women who can either be a Mary - the good sister who sits and listens to Jesus - or a Martha - the bad sister who can’t stop long enough to notice the Lord. One graphic I saw this week used descriptions like “focused on one thing,” “free,” “peaceful,” and “concerned with Godly things” for Mary, while Martha’s descriptors were “indignant,” “trusting her own abilities,” and “concerned with worldly things.” It’s clear from this list and many others like it that women in particular should strive to be more like Mary. We should push away our Martha-like qualities that keep us from being good disciples and sit quietly at the Lord’s feet. Interestingly, I couldn’t find any similar list of male disciples.

But rather than diluting this story to a good and bad sister, let’s keep in mind that from a societal and cultural standpoint, Martha is working hard to do exactly what’s expected of her; offering hospitality to a guest. As commentator Elisabeth Johnson points out, Martha “busies herself with the tasks of serving...(diakonian)”^[2] from which we get our work deacon. Most likely she’s preparing a meal^[3] with which her sister lifts not a hand to help with.

Now, we must be careful with Mary, who’s not given a voice in this story. We don’t know her motivation, whether she’s lazy or desires to learn from Jesus. Most commentators point out that Mary ignores cultural expectations by assuming “the posture of a student learning at the feet of a rabbi, a role traditionally reserved for men.”^[4] The reality likely lies somewhere in the middle, with Mary being captivated enough by Jesus to let her sister take on the brunt of the work.

For her part, Martha’s gracious hospitality is given a bit of a black eye by her demand that Jesus make Mary help her, though who can blame her for being frustrated? But here’s where we need to reframe this story. For instead of understanding Jesus’ words as a rebuke, we should see them as an invitation. An invitation for Martha to put down her distractions, her cultural demands, any and all tasks that would separate her from him in this time they have together.

Because maybe, just maybe, in her “dutiful labors to be responsible and hospitable,” Martha has, as Pastor and commentator David Lose points out,

“lost something...herself. She has forgotten...that ultimately she is valued and loved not because of what she does, but because of who she is. That is not her intent, of course, but amid her concern to care for Jesus, she forgot to listen to him, the One who might remind her that she is a beloved child of God.”^[5]

Now let me be clear to all you worker-bees out there that “there is nothing wrong with doing.”^[6] After all, “the previous story of the Good Samaritan end[s] with Jesus telling the lawyer, ‘go and do likewise.’”^[7] But amid all our doing, all our work, all our efforts to be useful and productive, we can forget ourselves. We can forget who we are and how to understand our value.

Like us, Martha isn’t valuable to Jesus because she makes a fine meal; she is valuable because she’s a beloved child of God. That’s it. That’s all she has to be, and what Jesus is inviting her to do is come and sit in that identity. To stop doing long enough to be who she is, God’s beloved daughter, relishing alongside her sister Mary the joy of being in God’s presence on earth.     

That, my friends, is the Good News in this story, that the “better part” Jesus is talking about has nothing to do with favoring one sister over another or “lifting up one way of living the Christian life over another.”^[8] Rather, the “better part” is, as David Lose says so beautifully,                                      

“[getting] caught up in the joy of being in [God] presence such that we forget, if only for a little while, all the usual things that hold us back, all the usual worries and headaches and concerns, and simply be, as the Apostle Paul was wont to put it, “in Christ.”

Keep in mind that Jesus has this encounter with Martha and Mary on his way to Jerusalem. This being the first Sunday of Lent, you well know what Jesus will soon go through. But as unrelenting as the march toward Holy Week is, in this story we encounter a Jesus “who tarries, lingering in the presence of his friends and inviting them to do the same.”^[9] Jesus seems to say in this moment, rich with the anticipation of completing a life-defining mission and stakes that will be life and death, that “there is still nothing more important than to live in the 'eternal now' of one’s relationship with God.”^[10] 

            So I invite you this Lenten season to look for ways to sit at Christ’s feet. To put away what keeps you distracted and busy, and even useful, for the sake of spending time with God. This will be particularly tough for those of you with children and demanding jobs. I suspect even those of you who’re retired might not be very good at being still, but know that as you make this attempt, I’m joining you in the effort. For I’ve discovered that work is an excellent distraction from grief.

            But let’s all, as a community of faith, work to take up Christ’s invitation to the “better part” and remember that we are valuable and our company is wanted by our God just as we are.

^[1] . "God of concrete, God of steel." The Canterbury Dictionary of Hymnology. Canterbury Press. Web. 15 Mar. 2025.<http://www.hymnology.co.uk/g/god-of-concrete,-god-of-steel>.

^[2] Elisabeth Johnson, Commentary on Luke 10 from Working Preacher, https://www.workingpreacher.org/commentaries/revised-common-lectionary/ordinary-16-3/commentary-on-luke-1038-42-3

^[3] Ibid.

^[4] Ibid.

^[5] David Lose, “Mary, Martha, and the Search for a More Useful Faith,” from Working Preacher,https://www.workingpreacher.org/dear-working-preacher/mary-martha-and-the-search-for-a-more-useful-faith

^[6] Ibid.

^[7] Ibid.

^[8] Ibid.

^[9] Ibid.

^[10] Ibid.