Hello, my name is Mary—at least I wish it was: Philip Matherne
It’s actually Philip. Not too long ago I was an intern at The Wesley, and you could find me doing all the things interns do: evangelizing, discipling, planning events, worshiping, fundraising, and wading deep into the lives of the community of Christians found at The Wesley.
These days I’m still doing those things, just down the road in Minden at FUMC Minden as their Youth Director. Let me share with you about how that’s going.
From the Gospel of Luke:
“Now as they went on their way, Jesus entered a village. And a woman named Martha welcomed him into her house. And she had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet and listened to his teaching. But Martha was distracted with much serving. And she went up to him and said, “Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Tell her then to help me.” But the Lord answered her, “Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but few things are needed*—indeed only one. Mary has chosen the better portion, which will not be taken away from her.”- Luke 10:38-42
Praise to you, Lord Jesus Christ.
It seems to me that there are only a few admirable characters from scripture worth imitating. On the whole, there’s no point in imitating most of the people in the Bible because the vast majority of those people aren’t much different from ourselves at all. With a few exceptions, we’re already pretty much alike in our capacity to be incredibly faithful and unfaithful, holy and unholy, to rightly cry: “I believe; help my unbelief!” To be sure, all the stories of these men and women have much to teach us, but not because they offer a picture of someone who’s doing it way better than us. They have much to teach us, mainly because we are so much like them and just need help to see how. We’re not much different from David or any of the prophets, kings, saints, and apostles, etc.
Mary of Bethany may be one of those exceptions. She is exceptionally one of those people I admire and try to imitate, despite my best efforts to replace her with more productive role models. I think Mary may be much better at this Christian thing than I am and has much to teach me, especially about worship.
For the majority of my life—and oftentimes in the present, too—people who know me have said that I most resemble Martha. Most people, including myself, will most often want me to be a “someone” like Martha. Most people would be pleased for me to be concerned, “hard working”, and a servant—whether that’s a servant of themselves or the gospel isn’t always clear. I have been known as someone “distracted with much serving” and “anxious and troubled about many things”. After getting to know some of the youth at the church, I've realized that they are too. How well does that description fit you?
In defense of Martha and myself, some of that service is good* (I was sorely tempted to substitute “needed” here). After all, it is Martha’s house that Jesus is being hosted in and Martha who is providing for him and the other people who are there. I feel a kinship to Martha in the sense that I see myself as someone who is trying to provide for the people around me. However, while the work may be good, Jesus seems to think that it’s just not essential. Which feels odd to say given that I feel like 90% of what I “do” for a living falls under Martha’s categories of service: teaching, visiting with students and parents, planning the events for the week and the calendar for the year, reading lots of books to do all those things well, discipling young men and women, and sharing the gospel out in the community. And yet, all of those good things fall into the category that Jesus says can be taken away from us. Again, good, but not necessary.
While I am thankful for and feel affirmed by Martha’s example of Christian service, what I hope to learn more fully to practice and to teach is Mary’s better portion. The kind of shepherd I hope to be to the souls God has placed around me is a simple one. Am I spending time in the presence of God? Am I praying “Oh my God” like the psalmist? Am I worshiping with the people of God? Whether I’m a good or bad youth director does not depend on if the ministry is growing, the brilliance of the lessons, the degree of my spiritual education, how engaging the activities are, or how memorable the summer trip was, but whether or not I am someone who prays and worships.
If that’s all I have to teach these youth and this church, if I can point them to be more like Mary of Bethany, then I’ll be satisfied. Pumpkin patches, travel ball, cheer, extracurriculars, church meals, mission trips, book studies, hospitality, good grades, careers, newsletters, and summer camps may all be good. They might. But they aren’t needed.
My hope is to teach as I have been taught (particularly while at The Wesley) and to follow Christ with my whole person as I teach other minds, bodies, and souls to follow Christ.
I confess. I do not deny, but confess that Jesus Christ is Lord. He died for the forgiveness of our sins. He is risen and He will come again to gather those whom He loves and who love Him. By Him are we saved. I testify to the work God has done and is doing in His church, especially at The Wesley. The Holy Spirit is there and breathes life through it. By the preaching of the gospel, by the example of holy living, and the instruction of Christian discipline, many have received Christ and have been saved from the power of death and hell in this life and afterwards. The saints have been equipped, edified, reproached, encouraged, and formed into the image of Christ. People like yourself. People like me. By God’s grace, this work will continue. Praise God who listens. Praise God who saves.
Through the foolishness of the gospel, I plan to invite others to this kind of life while so many other powers ask for their soul: “We want to know you and we want you to know Jesus even more.” What I found at The Wesley was a church of people who loved me well and who taught me how to receive love from God and from them. They taught me how to love God and others like I am loved. They taught me how to have life. I want you to have the same. It wouldn’t make much sense for me to not want everyone to have what I’ve found. “You should come and see. What are you doing later?” (John 1:43-46).
A comfortable Martha trying to be a little more uncomfortable as a Mary,
Philip Matherne