I am Evil Martha

So...

I was dreaming this morning that I was in church, in a strange place, needing to give a talk and finding myself unprepared. And I hit upon an idea that was so good that I woke up from the dream so I could write it down for real. Although I think I've lost half of my examples.

I'm not sure that this is a really good idea. In the dream, I gave the talk while standing on top of an upright piano which was rolling around in the gym because I couldn't find the podium on the stage. So what I am saying is that this talk might not make as much sense in the waking world. But that's okay. I am still half asleep because it's not yet seven o'clock, and I think the dream has not entirely escaped me.

In the New Testament, we have the story of Mary and Martha, sisters who were friends of Jesus. One day when he was visiting them, they fed him and then be began to teach. Mary listened while Martha cleaned up the dishes from the meal. (I think I've got the sisters assigned properly here, although in the dream someone had taken my Bible and I could not remember for certain who was who, which gave me shpilkes.) Jesus tells Martha that washing the dishes is a good thing, but that it would be better for her to do like her sister and come talk about the gospel with the Savior of the world.

I've heard this story a thousand times (I would have heard it a million times if I were a girl, I think) and it makes sense. But after my dream this morning, I have a couple of questions. Why is Martha washing dishes? Was this a normal behavior for her? Was this something she would have been doing, no matter who had come over for dinner? My guess is that this was her usual behavior, and that she did it because she liked a clean house, which is a good thing. But that's not the way it works for me.

Here's an example. When I lived in Somerville, I was first counselor in the Sunday School presidency for a while. We shared the building with another ward, and both of us used the gym as a room for Sunday School. (Terrible room for teaching, FYI. Cavernous. Swallowed the sound. No one in there felt connected to the lesson or the teacher or the whole learning gestalt.)

Anyway, every Sunday, the Sunday School presidency from the other ward was responsible for putting up folding chairs in the gym before church started. And after church ended, our ward's presidency (including me) was supposed to make sure they got taken down and put away.

Well, nine times out of ten (it seemed) they didn't do their job, and when I showed up for sacrament meeting I would look into to the gym and see no chairs. So I would put up a hundred and twenty folding chairs by myself, which usually took up most of the time that people were speaking during sacrament meeting. They piped the speakers in, of course, so I told myself that it was okay because I could hear them. But like Martha, I wasn't really hearing as well as Mary, who chose to focus on listening.

Of course someone had to put up those folding chairs. But I knew every Sunday that I would need to to this. (Probably.) And I could have come early and done it before sacrament started, or come just a tiny bit early and grabbed some other dudes to help, or even got some people in our ward called to come early and do it. After all, I was in the presidency, right? The point is, it was in my power to have the folding chairs put up before sacrament meeting started, so that I could be sitting down, listening, being spiritually fed.

So why did I find myself every Sunday in the gym, putting up chairs? I should say here that unlike my earlier question about Martha, this is not a question to which I don't know the answer. I was there, I lived it, and I know why I did things the way I did them. I did it because I preferred being in the gym putting up folding chairs. Church is boring. It's even more boring than folding chairs. I never would spend thirty minutes putting up folding chairs on my own time. But I did it then because I could feel good about doing something good (as Martha did something good) while my true purpose was to avoid doing something better (as Mary did something better). My roommates used to say that they always knew when I had a big paper due because it's about the only time they would see me cleaning the apartment.

Let me say here (again) that this is not speculation. I'm talking about myself, and not anyone else, including you if you are reading this. I know my own mind, more or less. (And I am not here inventing bad motives for myself, so I have something new and fun to chastise myself about. I am not a girl. I have enough real faults to deal with.) I actually did prefer putting up the folding chairs. I really do choose to avoid doing what's best by doing something good instead.

I am Evil Martha. I only wash my dishes when God is in the next room, teaching. And I wash them because doing so prevents me from doing something better. I put up folding chairs between me and my Savior.

God help me, a sinner.

--MOISHE

PS - Sorry Herschel and I have not been posting here in a while. Yes, I know, I know. Your accusing stares and stony silences hit me like a blow to kishkas. But I can promise you, I've been spending my time worse somewhere else. (I can't speak for Herschel.)