Martha, Martha

 Image from http://dreamers.marthastewart.com/photo/new-years-eve-2011-thirty-three/prev?context=featured

No, not that Martha, although they're very similar and ironically named the same.

I mean, Martha, the sister to Mary and Lazarus, friend of Jesus, who was so busy serving that she forgot that Jesus was a guest in her house?

That one.

I'm a Martha. Anyone else? Let's see a show of hands.

I don't see any, but that's okay. If you're like me, it means you're too busy writing out the week's grocery list, cleaning dishes, folding laundry, and getting that stubborn stain off the bath tub floor.

We Marthas like to get things done.

But often, like the first Martha, I forget that Jesus comes to visit. Well, let's put it this way, I guess I don't forget that someone's coming to visit (that's why I'm cleaning in the first place--one of the reasons I have company over, to remind me to clean!), but I often forget WHO is coming to visit. And by that I don't just mean Jesus.

Seldom have I met Christ the Lord donning Chacos and jeans to come through our front door. I don't weekly have a choir of angels sing in lieu of our doorbell to announce His arrival.

Instead, I might have a rescue cat, sometimes a neighbor, frequently a family member or friend dropping something by. Occasionally a dinner party.

But Scripture says they're all pretty much the same. Jesus said, "in as much as you have done this unto the least of these, you've done it unto me," or the writer of Hebrews, "be not forgetful to entertain strangers; you may entertain angels unaware."

And yet, as soon as I know someone is coming over, whoever that might be, my attention is radically turned to the kitchen floor that hasn't been mopped, the bathroom without towels or toilet paper, and the weeds that have been growing at mutant speeds in the front flower beds. I fling myself into overdrive, frantically panting as I try to whip the house into shape before the first knock on the door.

But I've forgotten who's coming over.

During my cleaning frenzy, my state of keeping up appearances, I often lose sight of the actual needs and gifts bundled up the flesh and bone of another human being.

I forget that their dog died as I cheerfully call out, "Hey, how's it goin'!" as I busily light the scented candles. I neglect to ask how that work project last month went as I dash about sweeping up dust bunnies. I'm so blinded by that spot on the wall that I barely notice how tired my guest looks, or perhaps how radiant, that maybe they have news to share.

I forget not only where my ministry lies, as in, what I have to give, but I also forget, as Martha did, that my guests have something to give me; that I need their wisdom and insights; I need their humor, help, and love.

I am a Martha, I'll own that. I love hosting people at our house, and I'm grateful for a husband who enjoys the same. But even as we seek to provide a clean and comfortable space for our guests to be (sometimes more than others), I have to remind myself that my focus is to be on who comes to visit; the preparation, the service, is not an end in of itself.

This is likewise a good reminder for us, as it was for the first Martha, about worship-- that the things of Christ, the work of Christ, is not the end-- Christ is. That is where our vision lies. So it is with hospitality. The Soft Scrub, the Windex, the tile cleaner and vacuum are all good tools, all  important things for hosting, but they are not the end: the guest and our relationship is.

And don't let a Martha tell you anything different.