The Present of Presence

“The Present of Presence” was preached at First Presbyterian Church of Sterling, Colorado on Sunday, July 17, 2016. Inspirations for this sermon include Scripture, current events, commentaries, Clinical Pastoral Education experiences, and “Misery” by Anton Chekhov.

—————————————

Luke 10:38-42

38 Now as they went on their way, Jesus entered a certain village, where a woman named Martha welcomed him into her home. 39 She had a sister named Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to what he was saying. 40 But Martha was distracted by her many tasks; so she came to him and asked, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to do all the work by myself? Tell her then to help me.” 41 But the Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; 42 there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her.”

—————————————

I recently read a short story by late Russian writer and playwright Anton Chekhov as part of the curriculum for my Clinical Pastoral Education as a hospital chaplain. The story is titled, “Misery” with the tagline, “To Whom Shall I Tell My Grief?” The story – written in 1886 – tells the tale of the sledge-driver Iona Potapov as he struggles to tell someone—anyone—about the recent death of his son.  Throughout the night Iona gives rides on his large sled pulled by his mare. Three times Iona attempts to share his grief from the loss of his son. He tells a military officer, he tells a group of drunkards, he tells the young stable boy; all three dismiss Iona’s story and leave Iona to process his grief alone. His story is ignored; his grief builds up; his loneliness sets in. There’s no one to listen to Iona’s story until at the end of the story where Iona goes out into the cold winter stables to visit his mare that pulled his sled all through the night. It is then to her that he shares his grief. Listen to the end of Chekhov’s story:

“The old man sighs and scratches himself.... Just as the young man had been thirsty for water, he thirsts for speech. His son will soon have been dead a week, and he has not really talked to anybody yet.... He wants to talk of it properly, with deliberation.... He wants to tell how his son was taken ill, how he suffered, what he said before he died, how he died.... He wants to describe the funeral, and how he went to the hospital to get his son's clothes. He still has his daughter Anisya in the country.... And he wants to talk about her too.... Yes, he has plenty to talk about now. His listener ought to sigh and exclaim and lament....

"Let's go out and have a look at the mare," Iona thinks. "There is always time for sleep.... You'll have sleep enough, no fear...."

He puts on his coat and goes into the stables where his mare is standing. He thinks about oats, about hay, about the weather.... He cannot think about his son when he is alone.... To talk about him with someone is possible, but to think of him and picture him is insufferable anguish....

"Are you munching?" Iona asks his mare, seeing her shining eyes. "There, munch away, munch away.... Since we have not earned enough for oats, we will eat hay.... Yes,... I have grown too old to drive.... My son ought to be driving, not I.... He was a real cabman.... He ought to have lived...."

Iona is silent for a while, and then he goes on:

"That's how it is, old girl.... Kuzma Ionitch is gone.... He said good-bye to me.... He went and died for no reason.... Now, suppose you had a little colt, and you were the mother to that little colt. ... And all at once that same little colt went and died.... You'd be sorry, wouldn't you?"

The little mare munches, listens, and breathes on her master's hands. Iona is carried away and tells her all about it.”

My chaplain colleagues and I have a running joke as a lesson we took away from this story. When we visit with a patient or a patient’s family, we try to channel the mare. “Be the mare,” we often say, “Be the mare. Be attentive; be aware; be compassionate; be present. Listen to their story. Be the mare….. Be the mare.”

Then we turn to our Gospel reading for today: Jesus visits the sisters Mary and Martha. The story is relatable to Chekhov’s for there is one character that is attentive and aware and compassionate and present. There is one character that listens to the story. Similar to the mare, we have the character Mary. Be the mare. Be the Mary.  But what about Martha? Reading this story would cause one to think the Mary did everything right and Martha did everything wrong… but this isn’t completely true. Let me explain.

Chapter ten in the Gospel of Luke is filled with acts and challenges for Christians today to follow. It has the mission of the seventy where Jesus tells seventy of his followers to go into the towns ahead of them to evangelize, heal the sick, and spread peace. Jesus tells them to go into houses and to eat and drink whatever their hosts provide. “Go on your way,” he tells them, “Go.”

Then directly preceding Jesus’ visit to Mary and Martha is The Parable of the Good Samaritan. It is a well-known parable that tells the story of a man who during his journey from Jerusalem to Jericho fell into the hands of robbers. As the man laid there crippled on the road, two times was he passed and ignored. It wasn’t until a Samaritan saw the man, bandaged his wounds, and took him to the nearest inn where the Samaritan paid for the man’s recovery. Jesus’ lesson in this parable was for his followers to be like the Samaritan. “Go and do likewise,” he tells them. “Go. Do.”

So can we really blame Martha? She was going and doing, going and doing. She was being a good host. She was extending hospitality to her guest.  She was trying to listen to and follow the very advice that Jesus had just given to his followers. Going and doing. But Martha became distracted by this advice, and she became worried by Jesus’ teachings. In fact, in attempt to be a good host, Martha lost what makes a host a good host in the first place: attentiveness, awareness, compassion, and presence.

Mary, on the other hand, did not help her sister. She was not going or doing. Rather, she sat at the Lord’s feet and listened to what he was saying. She was present with Jesus, and Jesus was present with her. When Martha complained at the lack of her sister’s help, Jesus invites Martha to do the same as her sister Mary reminding Martha that his presence is the thing needed and the thing that will not be taken away from them.

What Martha did wasn’t completely wrong. What Mary did wasn’t completely right. Mary was just able to discern what was better in that moment, and in that moment the sisters needed to be with Jesus. They needed to sit at Lord’s feet and receive his words. They needed to be in his presence for at that moment; that was his gift to them. It was the present of presence, and I think we could all use that same gift today, a reminder that we are in the presence of one another and in the presence of the Lord.

This summer has been filled with pain and grief, sorrow and anguish. From the shooting in Orlando where 49 LGBTQ people of color were shot down to deaths of Alton Sterling and Philando Castile. From police officers lives that were lost in Dallas and Baton Rouge to terrorist attacks overseas. In Turkey, in France, In Syria. In the Middle East. Even this week on Wednesday, July 20 is the four-year anniversary of the Aurora movie theatre shooting.  It’s these events and these acts of violence that make me want to scream and cry and lament, “How long, O Lord? How long?”

And then I read a story like Chekhov’s where a man tells his grief to a mare or the story where Jesus invites Mary and Martha to be in his presence, and I am reminded that I am not alone. I am reminded that God—the Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer of all life—is present this day and all of days. This is promised, and this will not be taken away. The very presence of God, Christ, and the Spirit will not be taken away. They cannot be taken away. No worries or distractions can take them away. No amount of grief or sorrow or pain or anguish can take them away. Nothing. Nothing can or will take them away for it is written nothing in creation will separate us from the love and grace and presence of our Lord and Savior.

We live in a society where we believe our worth is measured by how busy we are, what we accomplish, or how well we meet the expectations of others. It’s okay to be busy and it’s okay to succeed… but when it feels like the world is falling down around us, we need to be reminded of something else. If it’s your world or the world of the people you love, if it’s the world of your neighbor or the world of the strangers across the globe, know this. When the world falls down around you, God stands taller and mightier and greater. Be reminded of this. We are called to be in the gracious presence of Jesus. We are called to listen to his words. We are called to remember that we are not valued for what we do or how well we do it, but simply for the fact that we are individually, wonderfully, and fearfully made children of God.

Our hearts may break, but they will be healed. Our souls may shatter, but they will be restored. 

Neither Mary nor Martha were wrong. Martha went and did. Mary listened and received. The challenge is to discern when one over the other is better in that moment. Listening and doing.  Being in the presence of God and serving our neighbor. Both are vital to Christian life. It’s like inhaling and exhaling. One is not better than the other, but both are necessary for us to breathe. Both work in partnership to fill our lungs with fresh air, so that we may continue on our way. Like the breath that fills our bodies, God’s presence fills our soul, so that we may continue to receive God’s Word and to serve our neighbors. Be the mare. Be the Mary. Be the Martha. Be you in the presence of God.

My friends, Jesus invites you to sit and rest at his feet and to hear his words of beauty and truth. He calls you to know that you are loved beyond measure and valued without comparison. You are a child of God; we are all children of God. Be renewed in your faith and be strengthened for your service. God is with you this day and all of days. It is the gift of grace. It is the present of presence. Thanks be to God.

—————————————

Gracious God, Merciful God, Loving God; we ask you remind us of your presence. Be with us in our times of grief and suffering. This world is filled with pain, but it is also filled with joy. Help us to remember that. Allow us to sit at your feet and receive your Word. Allow us to go out and serve our neighbor. Allow us to love the same way you love us. We know nothing can separate us from your presence, O God, and we give you thanks for that. Your love and grace are gifts of abundance to us. In Christ’s name we pray, Amen.

—————————————