Sermon, Proper 11C, Luke 10:38-42

Once upon a time there was a woman with a very large extended family. She had four children, six grandchildren and a bunch of cousins, nephews and nieces who nobody really figured out who they belonged to. And every year she would have the family over to her house for Thanksgiving dinner.

The week before Thanksgiving she went into high-maintenance mode. Windows would be washed, carpets cleaned, lamps dusted, floors vacuumed and the good dishes pulled out. The basement would be reorganized and rearranged to accommodate the large table with two leaves and chairs and the obligatory card tables for the kids.

As the week went on, she would bake pies, rolls and that green bean casserole that just screams "Thanksgiving!" She brined the turkey, bought cranberry sauce and generally spent the time making sure that every last detail was accounted for.

When the big day came, she had the turkey in the oven, snacks at the ready, a variety of games set out and lots of places for people to sit and catch up with family members. Eventually, while people were playing games or talking or looking unsuccessfully for the TV that had been hidden to watch the game, she began bringing the food out and preparing the table. Someone would carve the turkey and they all moved downstairs to eat.

"Find a place and sit down," was the order.

There there only two rules to the seating arrangements: 1) the kids were always at the card tables, and 2) she always sat in the chair by the stairs. The reason for the first was obvious -- kids get bored with adults. The reason for the second may also be obvious.

She reserved that seat so that she could run up to the kitchen when anything on the table ran out. She spent more time running upstairs to fetch rolls, drinks, cranberries, finger pickles, olives and turkey than she did sitting down and enjoying the company of her family.

It's one thing to be a gracious host. I think we all try to do that. But it can be taken to unhealthy extremes. In this case, although she certainly made every effort to make her home presentable and her family welcomed and cared for, she missed the whole point of the gathering.

People don't go to their families homes on Thanksgiving for turkey and green bean salad. if that was the extent of it, we could do the same thing at Perkins. We go to family at Thanksgiving to catch up, to hear stories, to learn what's happening with those lives we share. At least that's how it is in the ideal world; because we all know that those visits can be times of great stress as well. But in the ideal situation, we go to get reconnected.

And that's what this woman missed. She missed the fact that the relationships were more important than whether there were rolls on the table. And her worrying and fretting about the non-essentials caused her family to become uncomfortable.

They didn't see this running to and fro for rolls as hospitality; they saw it as a distraction. When mom got agitated, that vibe spread throughout the whole gathering. And finally someone had to physically grab her, tell her to sit down and relax.

There is a time for doing and there is a time for listening; and the last two gospel passages point us in that direction.

Last week it was the story of the Good Samaritan. He made an effort to hep someone in need. The time for doing is when we see or know of someone who is hungry, thirsty, naked, homeless or ill -- it is that time that we need to step in and do by feeding, clothing, sheltering and caring for them. We are commanded to love the least of these. Our lives should reflect God's example of unconditional love. Go and do likewise.

That doing needs to be balanced with listening. If all we do is DO, how long before we get burnt out or forget why we are doing what we are doing? We need to make time to simply BE. We need to spend time in prayer, in worship and in study. But if all we do is sit, then the kingdom of God becomes a ghost town.

A priest, a Levite and a Samaritan -- go and do likewise.

Mary and Martha -- come, sit and listen.

There is a time for doing and there is a time for listening; and we would do well to know the difference.