“Now it happened as they went that [Jesus] entered a certain village; and a certain woman named Martha welcomed Him into her house. And she had a sister called Mary, who also sat at Jesus’ feet and heard His Word. But Martha was distracted with much serving, and she approached Him and said, ‘Lord, do You not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Therefore tell her to help me.’ And Jesus answered and said to her, ‘Martha, Martha, you are worried and troubled about many things. But one thing is needed, and Mary has chosen that good part, which will not be taken away from her'” (Luke 10:38-42).
I’ve been thinking about this Scripture a lot lately. I have long been like Mary—always reflecting on God’s Word whether in the study of Scripture, writing about it on this blog, writing poetry as reflections on Scripture, preaching from the pulpit as a Lutheran pastor, or pondering the right use of Scripture in pastoral care. I haven’t spent a lot of time behaving like Martha because, as an autistic person, I struggle with executive functions—tasks that are simple for neurotypical people, such as washing the dishes, cleaning the house, doing laundry, going grocery shopping, and so forth cause me extreme exhaustion, so I often put them off till the last minute. When I used to think of this as laziness, now I understand that these are problems with executive functions common amongst autistic people.
For an autistic person, executive function struggles are like having 20 browser tabs open in your brain, but none of them are loading properly—and you’re expected to finish all the tasks on those tabs right now. Executive functions are the brain’s management skills—things like planning, prioritizing, starting tasks, switching between them, and remembering what you were doing. For many autistic people, these skills don’t come automatically. Every step—getting dressed, making a phone call, starting homework, washing the dishes, getting in the shower, or transitioning from one task to another—can take enormous mental energy.
Imagine if every decision you make—what to eat, when to start, what to bring—felt like solving a math problem in your head. It’s both mentally and physically draining, even for small tasks, especially when there’s pressure, noise, or change. The result? Exhaustion. Not laziness. Not avoidance. Just a brain that’s working twice as hard to do what seems automatic for others. And over time, that constant mental strain wears you down.
Anyway, I’ve been thinking about this Scripture a lot lately because I’ve only recently come to realize my struggles with executive functioning these past couple months, and my therapist brought me to ponder on Mary and Martha—that, again, I’ve spent most of my life being like Mary, and being like Martha is a struggle for me, at least until the very last minute.
The story of Mary and Martha has often been told in a way that paints Martha as the “bad sister” and Mary as the “good sister.” Martha is anxious, busy, and distracted, whereas Mary is calm and spiritually focused on her Savior. But this interpretation misses the deeper beauty of the story. It misses the true point Jesus makes, and it ignores the full richness of Law and Gospel. It also forgets a critical biblical truth: there is a time and a place for both Mary’s resting and Martha’s working. As an autistic person, that working functions much differently for me than it does for neurotypical people.
Let’s consider the context. Jesus is on His way to Jerusalem—to the cross. He stops in the village of Bethany (see John 11:1), where Martha welcomes Him into her home. This is no small thing. Martha is practicing the sacred gift of hospitality—a service Scripture elsewhere praises (e.g., Genesis 18:1-8; 2 Kings 4:8-10; Romans 12:13; 1 Peter 4:9). She is doing what any of us would likely do if anyone (especially Jesus) walked into our house—getting busy, preparing, making sure the house is clean, making things just right.
Mary, on the other hand, sits at Jesus’ feet and listens. She chooses what Jesus calls “the good part.” And Martha, stressed and overwhelmed, asks Jesus to intervene. “Lord, do You not care that my sister has left me to serve alone?” Sure, she reprimands her Lord, but it’s not hard to hear the weariness, frustration, and sense of unfairness in her voice. And Jesus gently corrects her: “Martha, Martha, you are worried and troubled about many things. But one thing is needed, and Mary has chosen that good part.”
Notice Jesus does not scold Martha for serving; He doesn’t say what she’s doing is bad. He doesn’t say Mary should never help. What He does say is that in this moment, with the Son of God present and teaching, the one thing needed is to receive—to listen, to be still.
Martha’s Distraction is Ours
And now, we must hear the Law, because Martha’s distraction is ours. Her anxiety is ours. Her preoccupation with doing, fixing, arranging, and accomplishing—it mirrors our lives in this fallen world. We fill our days with busyness and burdens. We obsess over what needs to be done. And even our service—yes, even our church work, hospitality, and vocations—can become distractions if we place them above the Word of Jesus.
We live in a Martha world. We are people addicted to motion. And deep down, we often believe that our worth—even our righteousness—comes from what we do. The Law confronts us: when we neglect the Word of Christ for the work of our hands, we risk losing the one thing needful. When we treat the Gospel as secondary to our duties, even noble ones, we’ve flipped the script of the Gospel and the order of faith and life.
Martha is not condemned for serving, but she is gently rebuked for allowing her service to obscure the Savior. As a pastor on CRM status (candidate ready for ministry) and without a congregation, I’ve understandably been preoccupied with trying to find a job to remain financially solvent until I receive a Call to another congregation. But it’s been increasingly difficult. No one wants to hire an over-educated pastor. I can’t even get a job at Walmart. Like Martha, I’m worried and troubled about many things—not just continuing my ministry as a pastor, but also finances.
On the one hand, I need to worry about these things because I need to not only take care of myself but also my wife, which I can’t do without a job. It’s even more difficult with how exhausting executive functions are for me. But like Martha, I’ve been so distracted with these anxieties of life that, yes, I have forgotten to be like Mary—finding rest in the Lord.
Mary’s Rest is A Gift
Mary chooses the good part, which is Jesus. It is His Word. It is sitting at His feet with empty hands and open ears. Mary does not bring Jesus anything; she simply receives. She listens to His lovely voice. And Jesus says, “It will not be taken away from her.”
That’s the Gospel. The world can take away your health, your job, your reputation, and your loved ones, but the Word of Christ, received in faith, cannot be taken from you. Not by sin, not by the devil, not even by death. Verbum Domini manet in aeternum—the Word of the Lord endures forever (Isaiah 40:8; 1 Peter 1:25). And His Word brings life.
Jesus did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give His life as a ransom for many (Mark 10:45). Mary’s rest at His feet is a picture of faith. It is not laziness. It is not shirking duty. It is simply trust—trust that Jesus is enough. Trust that we do not live by bread alone, or by accomplishments, or by perfectly kept homes, or “successful” ministries, or ideal schedules—but by every Word that proceeds from the mouth of God (Luke 4:4; cf. Deuteronomy 8:3).
Both Sisters Belong in the Household of Faith
But let us not forget the beginning of the story: Martha welcomed Jesus. It was Martha’s home. She did what many of us might not dare to do—invite Jesus in. She loved Him and served Him. We must not despise that. The point of the story is not “be Mary, not Martha.” The point is: At the right time, be Mary. And at the right time, be Martha. But never forget which comes first. Receiving comes before service. Rest comes before labor. The Word of Christ comes before action.
Whenever I visit a shut-in at their home, almost always they apologize for how “messy” their home is, and I always make it a point to tell them, “I didn’t come here to see your home; I came here to see you.” Luke 10:38-42 is always at the forefront of my mind when I say this, because Jesus did not come to see how clean Martha’s house was, but to see them. We are not justified by how well we serve, or how clean our house is, or how sacrificially we work. We are justified by Christ alone—His work on the cross and His resurrection from the dead. Only when we rest in that do our labors become free and joyful.
Remember, the Law tells us what we must do, but gives us no power to do it. The Gospel tells us what Christ has done, and gives us His righteousness as a gift. That’s what Mary receives at the feet of Jesus, and that’s what Martha needed to be reminded of—the same reminder we often need in the busyness of our lives.
There Is a Time for Both
There is a time to sit, and there is a time to serve—a time to rest, and a time to work, just as Ecclesiastes says, “To everything there is a season, a time for every purpose under Heaven” (3:1). But the order matters. Faith first, then works. Grace first, then service. Receiving first, then giving.
Beloved, this is not a call to abandon our responsibilities; it’s a call to reorder them around Christ. It’s a call to remember that when your to-do list is overwhelming, when your ministry feels exhausting, when your life seems stretched thin, Jesus does not need your work. He invites you to His Word and welcomes you to rest. For the Lord of the Sabbath has said, “Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light” (Matthew 11:28-30).
He still speaks today—in His Word in your Bible, in the preaching of the Gospel at the pulpit, and in the Sacraments. He speaks forgiveness, peace, rest, and life. Sit at His feet. Listen. Be still, and know that He is God (Psalm 46:10); for this is the one thing needful.
And then, when your heart is filled, rise and serve with joy. Be a Martha who has first been a Mary. Serve in freedom. Love in freedom. Work in the peace of knowing that Christ has already done all for you. “Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and supplication, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God; and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus” (Ephesians 4:6-7). Amen.
