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SERMONS
Proper 11C
July 22, 2007
By The Rev. David Johnson
ONE SENTENCE: The idolatry of “doing” needs to be transformed by the riches of “being.”
Some years ago, while still serving Church of the Resurrection in Starkville, I placed a call one Saturday morning to a public radio game show. I was a regular listener of the show called Whad’ya Know?
As chance would have it on my one foray into national phone-ins, I found myself on the air with host Michael Feldman. I was the first caller in a cue of potential competitors for the grand prize: The Big Keilbasa.
I answered the qualifying question correctly – a question I know longer recall. I was paired with my fellow contestant located in the studio in Madison, Wisconsin.
The contest works like this: The contestants work together to answer five off-the-wall questions from offbeat news and other zany sources. If we got all five correctly, we both would win The Big Keilbasa. If we missed even one, but correctly answered three, we would win the smaller prize.
So it was with great enthusiasm that I anticipated the questions. I was experiencing my Andy Warhol 15 minutes of fame.
Michael Feldman had engaged me in conversation at the very first. I had outed myself as an Episcopal priest to him and the national radio audience.
So, it was with some chagrin that I heard the first question: Who is the patron saint of cooks?”
I was completely flummoxed – and so was my partner in the contest. My response was ironic: “Michael, that’s a question for St. Jude, the patron saint of hopeless causes.”
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I did not win The Big Keilbasa, but I did win the smaller prize.
And the answer to the question: St. Martha, whom we encounter in our gospel lesson today. In the kitchen.
This is an interesting passage of scripture which challenges us today: Which is better – doing or being?
Martha is clearly the workhorse of this family. She prepares the house, the food, the drink and the table. All of this while her sister, Mary, sits at Jesus’ feet, absorbing his every word.
Martha pleads with Jesus: Lord, don’t you care that Mary is leaving me to do all the work alone? Tell her to help me!
But Jesus sides with Mary: Martha, Martha, you are so worried and concerned about so many things. Only one thing is needful…
This points to a tension which exists in our world today – the tension between being and doing.
It is my perspective that one of the greatest idols of this age is the idolatry of doing. Many of us live lives as human doings instead of human beings.
There are many addictions present in our culture today. We are all aware of many of them – alcohol, drugs, gambling, pornography, among others.
Yet one addiction is almost universally applauded. It is frequently seen as a certain road to success: workaholism.
We praise those people who spend 60 to 80 hours per week in devotion to their vocation. We see them as dedicated, high achievers. Constantly reaching for the elusive brass ring – in whatever form it may come – is their endless quest.
Typically, that quest is essentially no different from other addictions. It is an attempt to fill a hole in our spirit or psyche that causes us to feel insecure, unloved, empty, or wounded in some significant way.
As an alcoholic medicates himself or herself with drink, a workaholic salves that internal wound with the pursuit of success or approval.
And we applaud that quest – giving reinforcement to the unhealthy behavior.
It is true, in many cases, of our expectations of self. And it is true, in many cases, of our expectations of clergy.
I recall working with a search committee one time. They were talking about their expectations that their new priest would have a solid work ethic. We were talking about the specifics of that work ethic. It boiled down to this: We want our money’s worth! We want our priest to take care of us.
Now, depending on clarification and appropriate definitions, that may be an appropriate expectation on one level. The surprise for me came when I asked whether the search committee had an expectation of a priest being devoted to a disciplined prayer life.
The response was stunning: “I think the priest should pray on his own time.”
Now, I am not here to contend that all priests are workaholics. But I have seen the brokenness and exhaustion – physical, emotional, and spiritual – of those who been priestly doings rather priestly beings. The results are empty spirits, shattered dreams, alienation from their sacred call, and hollow family lives.
Imagine the trouble clergy would be in if we ignored all the other nine commandments in the way we ignore God’s call to Sabbath rest.
Now think about that applied to yourself.
It is true for the laity, too. The idolatry of the idea that by doing more and more, we may find ourselves whole and complete is a shear fantasy. We cannot work our ways into self-worth.
I think all of this is profoundly spiritual and theological. Our behaviors only reflect our theology – not the theology that we may intellectually embrace, but the emotional theology, which is at the core of our being.
I think that many of us carry a burden within ourselves that says: “If I work hard enough, if I am good enough, then I will be worthy of God’s love.”
The presumption is that we can and must earn God’s love. And we carry that assumption over into our other relationships.
To put it bluntly, that belief is heretical. It is contrary to the essential Christian doctrine of grace. The grace of God is not something we may earn; it is freely given. It is the wondrous act of God embracing and loving us first – even before we were aware of his presence.
That theology is summarized in the sacrament of baptism: “The bond established by God in baptism is indissoluble.” Our connection to God is established by God and not by our own efforts. It is pure gift.
Labor is like all other elements of God’s creation – in its portion and in its place, it is a good part of the created order. Still, like any other part of life or the cosmos, we do not find salvation or ultimate meaning in it alone. Relying on it for our meaning in life is destructive – just as it is destructive to rely on anything else as our ground of being.
Come, be like Mary. Sit at my feet, Jesus says. There you will find comfort for your soul.
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