A Hint

 My reading this morning was about Martha and Mary with Jesus. (Luke 10: 38-42) This is another Gospel story that annoys me.  Guests should offer to help.  The correct response would have been for Jesus to say, "You are correct Martha, Mary and I will help you.  Afterwards, all three of us will sit down and talk."

But that's beside the point.

The reading about Martha and Mary tells how important it is to be more contemplative.  Later, reading "Cloud of Unknowing, I read, " Think that those striving to be contemplative should not only pardon all who complain about them, but be so occupied with their own work that they do not even notice what is said or done around them."

That sentence is proof that the author of the Cloud of the Unknowing is male.  Men don't listen--especially when it concerns helping around the house. 

Maybe Mary was Prettier than Martha

There are certain scriptures that I'm pretty sure resonate with all women.  One is the poor woman who was suffering from hemorrhages.  I know that I thought of her every time I menstruated.  (Mark 5: 25-34) There is another story that comes to mind more often.  This is the story of Mary and Martha.  (Luke 10: 38-42) I know the point Jesus was making.  Faith is important and work can wait.  But I would have had a different ending.  I would have Jesus saying, "Oh Martha, you are right.  One person should not be left out of my teaching and company.  Let us all (including Jesus [after all, He broke rules, why not this one] and Martha) and prepare our meal together.  We can talk in the kitchen and carry on while we eat and enjoy each other's company.
     But alas, I'm not Luke relating the story.  This came to mind while I was cleaning.  My cleaning consists of cleaning out my magazines.  And that means I'm doing more reading than cleaning.
   In Adam Cooper's poem in January 2018, First Things, he depicts Martha as emotionally hurt.  Yes, Jesus wasn't on her side, even though she was correct.  She needed help.  She wanted to listen to Him.  She wanted to sit at His feet, too.  She wanted His companionship.  She felt ignored.  She felt left out. She thought Jesus would understand.  Instead...Jesus rebuked her.

Here's Adam Cooper's take:

Saint Martha and the Dragon

Never a housewife weary and embattled
Looked up with more heartfelt dismay to hear
Her Lord's rebuke.  Her eyes are startled blear,
And every straining nerve of her is rattled:
She'd fought and butchered cows and bucking goats,
And hammered out the gristled-knotted flesh
(She looked for burns and bruises and the rest),
But words so hard from his mouth catch her throat.
And yet she girds her loins for this one thing,
To sit beside her sister at his feet,
While dishes burn and stewpots, seething, spill.
And later, when the serpent made a spring
At her, she stood her ground, by one thing stilled,
Lassoed it fast, and watched its eyes go sweet.

Spiritual Triathlon

Last Sunday, I watched my daughter compete in a triathlon.  She did very well.  She is a very competent swimmer, and an efficient bicyclist, and runner.  She's in excellent physical shape.

You may think this is an odd confluence, but I connected this triathlon of physical events to a different kind of spiritual event--praying.  It is an odd confluence, because there are many ways of praying as there are people.  Just look at last week's Gospel (Luke 10:38-42) about Martha and Mary.  There's two different ways of praying (active and contemplative).  Now look at this week's Gospel (Luke 11: 1-13) where Jesus teaches his disciples to pray to their Father in heaven.  And even in the beginning of this Gospel, the disciples mention that John taught his followers to pray: Lord, teach us to pray just as John taught his disciples.

So maybe competing in a spiritual triathlon isn't such a reach.  In fact, when I was thinking over all the different methods of praying, I realized that I compete in a spiritual triathlon every day.  Yes!  I do.

Every morning I pray using Lectio Divina with Liturgy of the Hours with my cup of coffee.  Then I go to Mass.  Before Mass, I pray a rosary.  There, one--two--three.

Lectio Divina

Rosary

Mass

Mary Morphs into Martha

Somewhere during Advent, I change from my Mary personality into Martha (Luke 10: 38-42).  No matter what I do, it happens.  I've tried going on retreat during Advent, but that caused a worse transformation.  Mary became a raving maniac, Martha.  I had too much to catch up on.

Baking Christmas cookies, writing Christmas cards, shopping, wrapping presents, social obligations, and feeling guilty because Advent should be one of the holiest times of the year.  I should be growing closer to God, not the opposite.

Every year, I more or less try to not let this happen.

Well, this year, I found an aid.  It's the rosary.  I've started praying the rosary, a bit differently.

In the second part, "Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for" _____________, I add what I'm praying for.

It can be a person, a situation, whatever.  Two people praying, are better than one, especially one that has some "pull."

Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee.  Blessed are thou among women; and blessed is the fruit of your womb, Jesus.  Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray that I may grow closer to your Son, this Advent season.  Amen.