Well, you don’t need to respond out loud or raise your hand to answer today’s question. It’s a very simple one: How many of you stayed up all night to read “Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows?” And if you did, please don’t tell me after Mass, how it ends. I still haven’t got my copy. Yes, this is the weekend when many of us find out what happens to Harry Potter and to Voldemort. For some, it’s been a ten-year wait. But for a lot of other people, they could care less. In fact, for some, the whole Harry Potter fad seems to be anti-Christian and they’ve avoided or resented the stories of his magical world.
However, I for one see, a lot of Christianity in the stories. After all, the major power in Harry’s world is the power of “sacrificial love.” And for me, this is also the focus of Christianity, the sacrificial love of the Father who sends his Son to us for our salvation. In Harry’s world, the greatest evil is represented by Voldemort, a name which could mean “Turning towards death.” Voldemort, who seeks and dispenses evil by means of his own fractured soul. But today’s homily is not about Harry Potter. Instead, I’d like to reflect on the biblical readings we heard. Readings which focus on “hospitality” and on “choice.”
Hospitality. Openness to others. The warmth, comfort, even an opportunity, for healing we give to others. In particular to the stranger who comes to our door. Hospitality was a vital part of the ancient culture of a nomadic people. Hospitality was a way of life among those who wandered the deserts of the Holy Land, either as herders of goats or sheep or as traders bringing goods from distant places. Hospitality was essential for these people in order for them to survive.
Our first reading tells of the hospitality of Abraham and Sarah to three strangers who approached their tent. Abraham, the father of the Israelites and of the Arabic nomads who later followed the prophesies of Muhammad. When the three strangers approached his tent, pitched next to a lonely tree, he could have hidden himself or prepared to defend his wife. Instead he rushed out to greet them and offered them his hospitality. Water with which they could wash off the dust of their travel. And food and drink to strengthen them on their journey. In return, they promised Abraham and his elderly wife the hope of a son.
And then we have today’s gospel reading in which Jesus and his disciples enter a village where they are shown hospitality by two sisters: Mary and Martha. We heard how Martha, following the culture of her time, offered the guests the usual hospitality of water for washing and food and drink to fortify them. We also heard of an unthinkable event. An extraordinary event.
We heard how a woman, the sister named Mary, sat down with the men to listen to what Jesus had to say. Two thousand years later, it’s difficult for most of us to realize the shock and dismay such a simple action would cause. A woman sitting down in a private home with male companions and listening to a wandering teacher was unthinkable. It might be acceptable for a woman to join with her husband or her family in an open field to listen to him; but it simply was totally unacceptable for this to occur in her own home. She was rightly chastised by her sister, Martha, for not participating in offering their hospitality to the visitors.
But she was not chastised, she was not criticized, by Jesus for this apparent failing. Instead, he seems pleased with her presence, with her listening to him. He tells Martha not to be concerned about the many obligations she perceived; but rather to allow Mary to continue to listen to him. Perhaps he implied that Martha, herself, should join them. Should give up the obligations she thought she had to fulfill, in accord with their customs and culture,
Today when we hear this story, many believe we might conclude that each one of us should become both Mary and Martha. That we must balance our need to do the work required of us and to listen to the teachings of Christ. After all, much of Catholic teaching is based upon the observation that we do not belong to a so-called “either/or” religion, but rather we are part of a “both/and” way of life.
In the first place, we believe our God is both “all just” and “all forgiving” – that He is not “either” a God of Justice, sometimes “or” a God of Mercy, sometimes, but rather our God is a God of both Justice and Mercy all the time, even if we, as humans, cannot understand exactly “how” this can be true.
We believe that his Son, the one we call Jesus the Christ, is “both human and divine,” not “either one or the other.” We do not believe he is divine one moment and human the next.
We believe that Mary, his mother, is “both a mother and a virgin.” Yet, in human thinking, the two terms are mutually exclusive. A woman is either a “mother” or a “virgin,” never both. Yet we believe that Mary is.
We believe that humanity is both mortal and immortal; that each one of us consists of a mortal body and an immortal soul. We, ourselves, are “both/and” rather than “either/or.”
And so we may rightfully agree that we are called to be “both Mary and Martha” – that we are called to be “of this world” and “not of this world.” As far as it goes, this is true. We are, indeed, both “of this world” and “not of this world.” We are to work for the coming of the kingdom at some future time and, at the same moment, to realize that the kingdom, the reign of God, exists now, at this very moment.
And so, perhaps, each one of us is, indeed, called to be both Mary and Martha. However, if we stop here, there may be a missing part in such an interpretation of today’s gospel reading. Or if not a “missing” part, perhaps an “incomplete” part. This can happen if we ignore, or skip lightly over, the response of Jesus to Martha’s annoyance with Mary. Jesus said: “Mary has chosen the better part …”
“Chosen.” Yes, Mary could rightfully have followed the cultural dictate of hospitality, of serving the guests in her home. However, she “chose” to go beyond merely following her culture. She chose to listen directly to Jesus the Christ. And we are called to do the same.
There are times when our culture, our usual way of thinking and of acting, must be put aside so that we, too, can listen directly to the words of Jesus the Christ. Our society may call for war and retribution when Jesus calls us towards peace and reconciliation. And yes, there is, as scripture tells us elsewhere: “there is a time for war, a time for tearing down.” But there is “also a time for peace, for building up.”
Our society may tell us that certain actions are not acceptable and must be punished. Yet Jesus may well urge us to welcome the alien, the lost, the homeless among us.
Today’s readings confirm that each of us has a choice. We can continue to do merely what our culture has said we should do, what is expected of us to do, even what might be necessary to do. We also can choose to set aside cultural imperatives and listen directly to Jesus the Christ, who speaks to each one of us and is delighted when we sit at his feet listening to him.
Indeed, sacrificial love is still demanded of us.
● The Love … to turn aside from our own self-interests and give our lives for the life of others.
● The Love … to avoid fracturing our own souls.
● The Love … to be both hospitable to others and to listen to the voice of our Lord who says: “There is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part and it will not be taken from her.”
Yes, we have been given the gift of free will, the gift to choose the “culture of life” or the “culture of death.” And perhaps, this is, indeed, the only “either/or” choice we have. Either to ignore Christ or to follow Him. We cannot do both. May each of us choose the “better part” – knowing that it will not be taken from us.
16th Sunday in Ordinary Time; July 22, 2007
Gn 18:1-10a; Col 1:24-28; Lk 10:38-42