Luke 10:38-42
Like disciples in a storm-tossed boat, we question God’s care when things are physically difficult and threatening (see previous blog post), but, perhaps even more regularly, we find ourselves asking that question in everyday circumstances not directly connected to danger. Thankfully, we’re given another story that hits home.
This time, when a follower of Jesus asks him, don’t you care?, it isn’t because they’re about to drown in the sea. On the contrary, it’s a domestic setting in a woman’s home, likely rich with the aroma of freshly-baked bread and expertly-pressed wine. It’s a gathering of friends, robust with conversation, centered around Jesus’ teaching.
It’s not difficult to imagine the scene if you’ve ever hosted a group of people, and it’s not hard to put yourself in Martha’s sandals if you had siblings growing up, if you’re raising kids, or if your workload has ever seemed unfair. Additionally, in a place where gender roles in society strictly defined social norms, Martha could be justifiably critical of Mary’s actions.
Luke clearly contrasts the two sisters: Mary sat at Jesus’ feet to listen to His teaching; Martha was distracted with much serving. Vine's Expository Dictionary explains that the word distracted means “to be driven about mentally”. Her preparations, planning, inviting, serving, hosting - on top of whatever normal routines she had - created a mental storm that contrasted with Mary’s sitting at Jesus’ feet. Martha’s “much serving” took priority over much sitting in His presence.
Jesus described Martha with two words when she asked if He cared. The NIV translates them as worried and upset; the ESV uses anxious and troubled. The first descriptor is common among Jesus’ teachings, but the second word is used only here in the New Testament. Thayer’s Greek Lexicon describes it as “troubled in mind, disturbed, disquieted.” More mental storm.
Martha was engulfed in the wave of what she thought was necessary to have Jesus in her presence. But Jesus wanted her to sit in His presence. He wasn’t looking for a gourmet meal or a white-gloved house; in fact, He commended Mary for choosing for herself the biggest slice of the pie, the best part of the meal - His presence - which He would not take from her by sending her to the kitchen.
He cares more that you’re sitting in His presence than if you’re serving up your house specialty on a silver platter. What part of your serving is a self-inflicted mental storm, as if that’s what it takes to be with Jesus?
Mark 4:35-41
“Don’t you care?” is a question we ask when someone could do something but doesn’t. The question implies that they noticed an obvious problem - and perhaps they even observed others’ futile efforts to solve it - but they opted out of helping. When that happens, it shifts the focus off of the initial issue and raises doubts about the heart of the one doing nothing. We conclude that if they cared, they would step in; therefore, they must not care.
The first time Jesus’ followers asked this question of Him, was during a storm. After a long day of teaching in parables, Jesus got into a boat with his disciples to cross to the other side of the sea. He fell asleep on the way. When the wind and waves threatened to sink the boat, the disciples frantically woke the Son of God, who had succumbed to sheer exhaustion. I imagine them soaked and screaming, don’t you care that we are perishing?
Threats on our well-being, natural disasters, uncontrollable forces, freak accidents - God, are you sleeping? How can you do nothing about this? At least grab a bucket and tie down the sail! Don’t you care that we are perishing?
Wasn’t Jesus’ care the very reason he was lying there in their creaking, weathered boat in the first place? Because they were perishing. So He came that whoever would believe in Him, would not perish.
When I question the heart of God with, Don’t you care?, I'm assuming that He must be fickle like His prophet, Jonah - uncaring and asleep on the job in the middle of a storm. God had sent Jonah because God pitied a perishing city; God sent Jesus because He so loved the perishing world. Jonah didn’t care to bring God’s message of mercy to an enemy that might receive it; Jesus had just spent the day preaching it to a people who would reject it. Jonah fled from God’s presence; Jesus was God, present. The storm was punishment for Jonah’s disobedience; the storm would be proof of Jesus’ identity. The storm calmed when Jonah was swallowed by it; the storm calmed when Jesus spoke to it.
Someone who cares more than Jonah has come.
“...casting all your anxiety on Him, because He cares for you.” 1 Peter 5:7