RESOLUTE AND FAITHFUL

Who's laying the table?

Here's a brilliant bit of drama—it's a short interlude in Jesus' awesome God-come-to-save-us narrative in Luke's Good News book, but it does take a fair few words to bring the best of it to your attention. Make yourself a nice hot drink and settle down for an eight minute read.

Brace yourself; the scene is set with a quiet, weighty moment. (Luke 10:38-42) It’s one of those moments that tells you more as you read, re-read than it seems to at first. Jesus, on His way to Jerusalem, stops in a village where a woman named Martha welcomes Him into her home (is this where Lazarus and Jesus strike up their initial friendship?). That’s how the story begins, but it's what happens next that makes it unforgettable—you already know the story.

Martha, busy. Martha, responsible. Martha, doing what needs to be done—there is bread to bake, water to fetch, cushions to arrange, and guests don’t just host themselves. In a culture where hospitality is not just an act of kindness but an expectation, Martha is doing exactly what she’s supposed to do. (Yes, I can hear the gasps!)

Let’s start with Mary.

Mary, who does something no one expects. Mary should be in the kitchen, rolling up her sleeves, moving at Martha’s pace, but she isn’t. Instead, she’s sitting at the feet of Jesus—listening, watching, thinking, learning. In a distant world where women were not invited into the sacred spaces of theological teaching, where they were expected to serve rather than study, she makes a radical choice. She chooses Jesus over expectations, presence over performance, and faithfulness over busyness. Wouldn't you?—I mean, this is Jesus.

[Plates clattering in the kitchen, smoke alarm going off...] Martha? Well, Martha is not happy. “Lord, do You not care that my sister has left me to serve alone? Tell her then to help me.” (Luke 10:40)

As you read the pixel-dots on your Bible app, you can almost hear the frustration in her voice—the exhaustion, the sense of injustice. She isn’t wrong to be working. But she has perhaps missed something? Something vital?

Jesus turns to her, gentle but firm...

“Martha, Martha, you are anxious and troubled about many things, but one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the good portion, which will not be taken away from her.” (Luke 10:41–42)

There it is. Thud! The moment where everything shifts—because this is not just about Mary and Martha, this is about you, and me. This is about all the moments we ourselves are caught in the whirlwind of expectation, drowning in obligation, convinced that faithfulness looks like busyness.

It’s about all the times we have stood in Martha’s pale white Crocs, looking at the Marys of the world and wondering why they get to sit at Jesus’ feet while we carry the weight of the world on ours. Burnout is on its way—Christian leaders, beware!

But Jesus—He turns it all upside down.

He doesn’t rebuke Martha for serving, but He does challenge her anxiety, her restlessness, her assumption that productivity equals faithfulness. Yes, I'm reading more into the story than the squiggles say, but what if I am right? Allow me to interpret what I see and read: He speaks directly to her heart, not her hands, and He lifts Mary up, affirms her choice, and tells the world that what she is doing is good. That it will not be taken from her.

Perhaps here’s what you need to hear today:

Sometimes, the most radical decision you can make is to stop.

To be resolute in your faith does not mean to be frantic in your works, and to be faithful does not mean to be busy.

Sometimes, it means kneeling when everyone expects you to stand, to be listening when the world tells you to act and saying no to what is expected so that you can say yes to what is essential.

Because here’s the truth, the world will keep on spinning. The demands will keep on coming. There will always be more to do, more to fix, more to carry—but there is only one thing necessary. Only one thing that cannot be taken away - Jesus.

And Mary saw this. She saw Him. She chose Him, and just like when God looked at the crisp, brand-new, out-of-the-box Heaven and Earth, He said, “That is good.”

So what about you?

What radical choice do you need to make today? What weight do you need to lay down? That ‘something’ that needs dealing with? What expectation do you need to walk away from?

Maybe, just maybe, faithfulness isn’t found in the work of your hands but in the posture of your heart. Maybe it looks less like running and more like resting. Less like doing and more like dwelling.

Let’s not miss something here—because Martha? She’s not the villain of this story. Not even close.

Here’s Martha …

Martha welcomes Jesus into her home.

That’s no small thing. She is hospitable, she is responsible, she sees a need and meets it. She is the kind of person who makes sure things get done, and let’s be honest—without people like Martha, a lot would fall apart. She has a servant’s heart, and that is good.

And here’s something else—Martha speaks honestly with Jesus, doesn’t hold back. When she’s frustrated, she tells Him. When she feels wronged, she brings it to Him. And that kind of relationship—one where she feels free to pour out her thoughts and emotions—is built on trust.

Then there’s the obvious fact that Jesus loves Martha. Not just Mary. Not just the ones who sit still and listen. John 11:5 makes it clear: “Now Jesus loved Martha and her sister and Lazarus.” She is named first. He cherishes her. He does not dismiss her or belittle her. He corrects her, yes, but with love and with tenderness.

The greatest thing about Martha?

She grows.

We meet her again in John 11, after her brother Lazarus has died. She runs to Jesus—this same Martha who was once too busy to sit at His feet now comes to Him with faith.

“Lord, if You had been here, my brother would not have died. But even now I know that whatever You ask from God, God will give You.” (John 11:21–22)

Martha, who was distracted before, now has her eyes fixed on Jesus. Martha, who was busy before, now believes. And when Jesus asks her if she believes He is the resurrection and the life, she makes one of the greatest declarations in Scripture:

“Yes, Lord; I believe that You are the Christ, the Son of God, who is coming into the world.” (John 11:27)

But before that moment, turn the clock back to when anyone and everyone came around for a Sunday roast—there’s something else happening.

The woman in the kitchen. The one who sees all the work, who hears her own voice speaking out—and hears the silence that follows.

Everyone heard Martha. Everyone heard the weight in her words, the strain in her voice. But no one volunteered.

A lot of work to be done.

Here’s the part that stings—when there is work to do, when the needs are great, there are always plenty of people willing to sit, but not so many willing to stand. And yet, Jesus does not tell Martha that her work is worthless. He does not dismiss the burden she feels.

He simply reminds her—gently, lovingly—that she is carrying something she was never meant to bear alone.

Maybe those people in the room needed to hear that too.

Maybe some of them needed to realise that service is not the job of one overwhelmed woman in the kitchen but the call of the whole community.

Maybe Martha needed to hear that she was seen, hat she was loved and that her worth was not in how much she got done but in who she was in Christ.

And maybe we all need to hear that too. I do.