Dominica 8 post Pentecosten / Evening, 29 July 2017 / Church of St John
And as many as
received him, he gave them power to be made sons of God (Jn 1:12).
We had St Mary Magdalen in our midst
this time last week; fitting, then, that we should celebrate her relative, St
Martha: both the ancient and modern calendars keep her feast today.
The liturgy calls her Martha, hospes Domini. We know her especially
from that episode in Lk 10:38ff, when she worries about all the serving while
her sister Mary sits at the feet of Jesus listening. We know how our Lord
discretely, gently corrected her worry. But think well on that title: host of the Lord. Remember that in Mt
10:11 the Master said, “And whatever town or village you enter, find out who is
worthy in it, and stay with him until you depart.” Our Lord obeys his own
instruction, so he stayed often with Martha (and her brother, Lazarus.)
Therefore we know that Martha was a most worthy hostess, not merely some
incompetent busybody.
If she was worried about a host of
practical matters, then we know the feeling. Now to be sure it is not that
earthly, practical matters are somehow dirty or sinful or dangerous. That would
be manifestly absurd. But rather, there is some danger in placing all our
attentions only natural things, which is why St Paul instructs us this Sunday
in the epistle:[1]
“Debitóres sumus non carni, ut secúndum
carnem vivámus—[rather], for if you live according to the flesh you will
die.” Allowing the needs of this life to overtake us will leave us dead—yes,
literally, but also spiritually. In a sense, then, our Lord taught this same
truth to St Martha before St Paul dictated it to the Romans.
But there is more. There is also
something to be said about vocation. Remember, St Martha was a most worthy hostess—God
Incarnate availed himself of her home and hospitality. Each of us has a
spiritual temperament, each has a vocation that corresponds to that
temperament. And this is well, for the divine glory can use all types—because, in
fact, he has fashioned all types, precisely to manifest his glory. All must listen and pray; all must labor and
serve—the degree to which this is done should not cause us to lose our peace.
Leave all proportion to God.
What is more, the home of St Martha
is an image of the Church. I quote Dom Gueranger:
Here we recognize a perfect type of the Church,
wherein, with the devotedness of fraternal love, and under the eye of our
heavenly Father, the active ministry takes the precedence, and holds the place
of government over all who are drawn by grace to Jesus.[2]
The Church has a ministering function
in the world; the hospitality of St Martha shows us how. Not that we must take
this to say that prayer and contemplation are to be considered lower and
unimportant. In fact, contemplation is a higher activity insofar as it
represents what we all shall someday do in heaven, please God. But the Church
does labor for souls: the Church is a mother of a household, who is constantly
gathering and tending souls who come to Christ. In this sense, she is ever
active, ever solicitous. But the Church is ever solicitous to supernatural things, which was Christ’s
reminder to St Martha; you can be sure she never forgot it.
But the dinner party of Lk 10
continued, and St Martha was refreshed with heavenly doctrine and a new freedom
of heart. Each Mass we hear the words of the Last Gospel, “And as many as
received him, he gave them power to be made sons of God.”—Those who receive Christ as guest are changed. He made his home
with you at your Baptism, at the Baptism of your children. Therefore the end of
the Christian life is that we should be made worthy hosts of the Lord.—And we do this by relating and offering all
our natural labor to be taken up and made supernatural by the sanctifying labor
of the Church. The Catholic home is a holy home, a foretaste of the rest,
order, and love of our heavenly home. There, even in your home now, you may be
safe from all the danger that threatens the world and the Church. How? By
making Christ your constant guest.
The Catholic who must immerse him or
herself in all manner of practical thing should take heart. Do not worry, for
as along as all things are given up to God, as long as in your labors you are
constantly looking to the heavenly places with calm and peace, all things may
grow holy before you and Christ makes his home with you.—And then something
happens. By the mysterious symmetry of grace, when we receive him, he sets the
table for us. Gustate et videte, as
we will hear for the Communion antiphon. Christ, the Divine Guest and High
Priest, prepares the Eucharist for us and plays the host of our souls.
This is keenly expressed in a poem
written by George Herbert (1593-1633,) an Anglican clergyman. In it, he likens
Christ—Love itself—to a seemingly importunate innkeeper.
Love bade me welcome: yet my soul drew
back,
Guilty
of dust and sin.
But quick-ey’d Love, observing me grow
slack
From
my first entrance in,
Drew nearer to me, sweetly questioning,
If
I lack’d any thing.
A guest, I answer’d, worthy to be here:
Love
said, you shall be he.
I the unkind, ungrateful? Ah my dear,
I
cannot look on thee.
Love took my hand, and smiling did
reply,
Why
made the eyes but I?
Truth Lord, but I have marr’d them: let
my shame
Go
where it doth deserve.
And know you not, says Love, who bore
the blame?
My
dear, then I will serve.
You must sit down, says Love, and taste
my meat:
So
I did sit and eat.
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