I have long struggled with the mundane. It has seemed to me, the time spent on the basic routines of life - eating, doing laundry, caring for our bodies, cleaning house, cutting grass, answering mail, paying bills, shopping, commuting, fixing broken things, deciphering tax and insurance forms and the like - far outweigh time spent in “ministry.” The solution to the dilemma of finding enough time to carve out of our frenzied schedule in this complicated, technological age to be in God’s Presence and help advance His Kingdom remains a mystery to me.
    I have identified with Martha and empathized with her as she prepared a meal for her Lord (Luke 10:38-42). Many times I have felt her feelings of jealousy and resentment toward one who seemed to have less responsibility than I, and hence more “time for the Lord.” However, the key words in this story revolve around Martha’s attitude. We are told she was distracted with much serving, and she approached Jesus and said, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Therefore tell her to help me” (vs. 40). Jesus gently rebuked her saying “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” (vs. 41-42). I don’t believe Jesus was suggesting no meal be prepared. Hospitality in the Middle Eastern culture was of vital importance and Jesus often participated in meals others prepared for Him. Rather, He spoke to her heart attitude of grumbling about the mundane while Mary concentrated on the spiritual. Martha did not see, as I did not for many years, the two are not mutually exclusive.
   I particularly remember when our three children were quite young. A powerful move of the Holy Spirit had begun at our church. I experienced a mighty renewal of my childhood faith and wanted to be at church every time the doors opened. The Sunday Services and Healing Services, the Bible Studies and Prayer Groups were always full of the life-giving power of the Holy Spirit. God was moving, and I didn’t want to hear about it secondhand from my husband (who was always involved). I wanted to be where the action was myself. As much as I loved motherhood (and I did!) and cherished time with our children, sometimes I felt “trapped at home” in the endless round of runny noses, dirty diapers, settling quarrels, and all the daily work that goes with motherhood. It was even hard to find quiet time, with little ones following me around from dawn ‘til dusk. One memorable Sunday the children and I finally made it to church after a series of winter illnesses only to discover I had nursery duty that week!
    There were Sundays (many of them) when I would be asked once too often, “How did you like the sermon?” I couldn’t recall hearing a sermon as I looked for the quarter that fell under the pew, comforted the child who dropped it, found the page in the Bible for the young reader, and tried to keep the youngest from making faces at people behind us. At such times I would reach the end of my tether and cry out to God with Martha’s jealousy and resentment, “Lord, don’t You care that I have so much to do while my husband is always having exciting times with You?” Of course, whenever I continued in this pattern long, I drank the cup of self-pity to the dregs and became more angry and self-focused. I would spiral downward and no one would want to be near me! (Lest I paint the picture too black, let me quickly add the Lord sent some wonderful people to help with housework and child care so I could participate quite regularly in our Tuesday evening Healing Services and other activities when possible.)
    It was during this time the Lord first taught me about His Presence in the midst of the ordinary. It began with a Word my husband spoke to me at the altar rail one Tuesday night that made me angry. (It’s much harder to hear from the priest when he’s your husband.) He told me the Lord was calling me to be like Mary. I said nothing (then!) but I remember erupting on the inside and wondering if he were speaking to me out of empathy or unreality! I remember thinking, “With all I have to do, how can I be like Mary?” This certainly was not a Word from the Lord, or was it? As my flesh settled down enough for my spirit to be open, the Lord spoke deeply to my need. He told me I was called to do the work of Martha with the spirit of Mary. I knew it was Truth at that moment, but it has taken years to grasp the depth of it in my heart.
   I see now whatever work one is called to do, no matter how simple or complex, if God calls us to do it and we do it out of love for Him as joyfully and completely as we can, we have ministered unto Him just as surely as if we were sitting at His Feet, as Mary did. The smallest task, performed with an obedient and loving heart, honors Him.
    Right now I am in a quiet place writing this newsletter article. Earlier today I cantored two Divine Offices with the Sisters (one of which I did wrong), participated in Morning Eucharist, talked over a concern with two Community Members, read my daily Scripture and prayed, especially for an Oblate undergoing surgery today, did some editing, and organized details of a household task. Later I will go through mail, have dinner with our household (the last evening meal with one of our Novices heading back to college), do paperwork, and respond to any issues awaiting me before going to our Compline Service. Checks may need to be written, the garage swept, or phone messages answered. It matters not, each task is a gift from God, an opportunity to honor Him with my whole heart. Each endeavor wholly given to Christ is incarnated with His Presence, a symbol of His Life and can be a healing balm in the midst of our fallen world. Thus, each task draws us deeper into relationship with our Lord and widens His Work upon earth.
   This point was vividly etched in my spirit as a Sister at All Saints Convent in Catonsville cleaned the chapel. Every motion was beautiful, reverent, and quiet, as if the very act of cleaning were in itself a prayer. I was deeply touched; Jesus Christ entered an ordinary task and filled it with His Life. My spirit was greatly moved by being present. The routine sameness of laundry comes to mind. Years ago the Lord called me to pray for each family member as I folded their laundry. This simple and yet powerful act drew me into God’s Presence and kept my heart from being resentful of an otherwise mundane task. In this way our gracious Lord hallowed the task of folding laundry and made it redemptive.
    I also recall a sad and painful conversation I had with a woman after I had spoken to a Christian women’s group. She was distraught because her husband was not a believer and was hostile toward the large number of Christian activities that kept her away from home evening after evening. I asked her what she thought her husband would like her to do. She said, “stay home and fold his socks!” I mentioned it seemed a simple request, something she could easily do out of love for Christ and for him. She was horrified at the thought of curtailing some of her activities to spend time with him and take care of the mundane. Doing that simple task with a humble heart could have demonstrated to her husband Christ’s Love and may have led him to conversion.
    Toil, the work of the hands and the sweat of the brow, entered our world when Adam fell. Jesus Christ was born into this world and toiled as we do, learning the trade of carpentry. Day after day he may have hauled lumber and worked with simple tools to create useful, practical items to sell. He probably had to deal with difficult customers, extend credit to those who couldn’t pay or perhaps never would. He participated in everyday chores, caring for His bodily and temporal needs, even paying taxes. We know during His short earthly ministry He was interrupted constantly, but He used those opportunities redemptively, teaching and healing the very ones who were pressing Him. The “interruptions” became His Ministry, such as the healing of the woman with the issue of blood, blind Bartimaeus, and the conversion of Zacchaeus. He spoke often of man’s work - of grapes and vineyards, fishing, planting, reaping, and storing in barns. His very Presence on earth and participation in man’s labor has forever hallowed it. Performed unto Him, the most routine and tedious task is beautiful. Jesus never distinguished between tasks. The job of the devout synagogue leader was no greater than that of the diligent farmer, nor was the generous landowner favored over the worker hired at the eleventh hour. The all-important question was whether the task was done to the glory of God.
    Our lives are not categorized into sacred and mundane, spiritual and routine. We are slow of heart to learn that all of life is sacred, including “little things,” the “trivial,” the “tedious.” I have often told our Community Residents (including children) every job is equally important. When we have a Retreat, for example, some clean the Chapel, others scrub toilets, shop for food, work in the kitchen, mow grass, weed flower beds, prepare music, care for children, change beds, wash sheets, wash dishes, and lead the Retreat. Each task is vital to the whole, bringing blessing and healing to our guests. Each is sacred when performed in our love for Christ. It has taken a long time, but I’m finally coming to see that the mundane things of life are not less important. It is only our pride that establishes a “spiritual priority of works.” Each task is a gift, waiting to become incarnated by Christ Himself, if only we joyfully offer it to Him. There is no room for pride, resentment, jealousy, etc., but rather a deep humility, a poverty of spirit ready to be filled by Christ and shared with the world around us. Lord, let it be so, moment by moment, task by task. Amen.

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