𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐚 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐉𝐞𝐬𝐮𝐬: 𝐀 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐃𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲

 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐚 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐉𝐞𝐬𝐮𝐬: 𝐀 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐃𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲

The brief but powerful episode of Martha and Mary, found only in Luke 10:38–42, has long offered the Church a mirror into its own soul. Though often overshadowed by more dramatic gospel stories, this quiet moment in a small village—likely Bethany—has sparked centuries of reflection on what it truly means to welcome Christ.

Luke tells us that Jesus, still traveling, enters a village where a woman named Martha welcomes Him into her home. The familiar dynamic between two sisters—Martha bustling about, Mary sitting still—is more than just a tale of sibling contrast. It's a moment thick with meaning, especially when viewed through the lens of Acts 6:4, which speaks of the apostles devoting themselves to prayer and the ministry of the word. Martha and Mary, in this moment, are not merely hosting a guest; they are revealing two possible ways of responding to the presence of the Word made flesh.

A Story About Martha—Not Just Mary

Although we often call this “the story of Mary and Martha,” Luke introduces it clearly as Martha’s story. She is the host, the one who opens her home to Jesus. The focus is on her interaction with Him, her choices, her frustrations. Mary, her quieter sister, plays an essential role—but she remains silent and still throughout. The central tension arises from Martha’s concern that she is doing everything alone, and her plea for Jesus to correct Mary's apparent inaction.

This is not a parable. It is a snapshot of real life, a moment preserved with tenderness and subtlety. And in it, we see Jesus gently rebuke not action itself, but a kind of action that has become anxious, noisy, and resentful—what we might call “religious busyness.”

Hospitality, Then and Now

In Jesus’ day, hospitality was a sacred duty, especially toward itinerant teachers and prophets. The act of receiving someone into your home was a way of receiving them into your heart, and of acknowledging their significance. That’s what Martha does. Her mistake isn’t in serving—it’s in being pulled away, distracted by “many things,” as Jesus puts it. Her concern is real: she wants to provide, to be a good host, to honor her guest. But somewhere along the way, the act of serving the Lord became a burden rather than a joy.

Mary, by contrast, sits at Jesus’ feet—a posture not just of reverence but of discipleship. To “sit at someone’s feet” was the standard position of a student to a rabbi. That Jesus allows and affirms this is extraordinary. In first-century Judaism, while not strictly forbidden, women were rarely encouraged to study Torah or to take on the role of a disciple. Yet Jesus welcomes her attention. He affirms her choice not just as acceptable, but as “the better part.”

The Better Part

The “better part” Mary chose was not simply contemplation over action, or listening over working. It was the recognition of what was truly essential in that moment: the presence and teaching of the Lord. Jesus is not diminishing Martha’s service; He is putting it in its proper place. Service must flow from the word, not replace it. Martha’s mistake was not her hospitality, but her distraction. Her good intention had become self-focused and anxious, causing her to resent her sister and subtly accuse Jesus Himself of indifference.

Jesus’ gentle response—“Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but only one thing is necessary”—is not a condemnation, but an invitation. An invitation to reorder her priorities, to let go of her agitation, and to join Mary at His feet.

A Deeper Teaching

Some in the early Church saw this story as a metaphor for the contemplative life being superior to the active life. Others saw it as a balance between liturgical ministry (Mary) and diaconal service (Martha). Yet neither interpretation quite captures the heart of the story. Jesus is not ranking one type of service over another. Instead, He is pointing to the danger of letting activity—even in the name of ministry—become a substitute for relationship with Him.

Martha was not wrong to serve. But her complaint, her desire for Jesus to “tell Mary to help,” reveals a heart overwhelmed and distracted. The Greek word used here—periespato—suggests a kind of dragging about, a splintering of focus. She is pulled in different directions, no longer centered. The following words, “anxious and troubled,” underline this inner fragmentation. Jesus sees it and calls her back to peace.

Luke’s Subtle Radicalism

It is no accident that this story follows immediately after the parable of the Good Samaritan. Just as that parable redefined neighbor-love, this account redefines hospitality. True hospitality is not about the performance of hosting, but about the posture of the heart. It is about receiving the guest—especially when that guest is the Word of God Himself.

And let us not miss the quiet radicalism of Jesus’ actions. He teaches a woman in her own home. He affirms her place as a disciple. Luke, more than any other Gospel writer, emphasizes Jesus’ inclusion of women in His mission. Mary is not only permitted to listen—she is praised for it.

Martha Revisited

To see Martha only as the “rebuked” one is to miss the fullness of her story. In John’s Gospel, it is Martha who runs to meet Jesus after Lazarus’ death. It is she who makes the great confession of faith: “Yes, Lord, I believe that you are the Christ, the Son of God” (John 11:27). Martha is no lesser disciple. She is strong, faithful, deeply devoted. But in Luke 10, she needs to be reminded that devotion must be rooted in listening. Even service must begin at the feet of Jesus.

Conclusion: The One Thing

The heart of this story is not about choosing between contemplation and action, between Mary and Martha. It is about keeping the main thing the main thing. Only “one thing is necessary,” Jesus says. That is, to be attentive to His word. Everything else—even our well-meaning service—must flow from that.

In a world of spiritual noise, religious activity, and even ministry burnout, this small story shines like a beacon. It reminds us that we can be busy for Jesus and yet miss Him entirely. But if we begin by sitting at His feet—truly receiving His word—then our service, like Martha’s, becomes a joy again.

Let us not let the “many things” drown out the voice of the One who speaks life.