Who among you is wise?
- Kristen Daley Mosier, PhD

- Jul 24
- 7 min read
Sixth Sunday after Pentecost
July 20, 2025
Woodland Park Presbyterian Church
Readings: Ps 15; Colossians 1:15-28; Luke 10:38-42
Luke 10:38-42 (trans. from David Bentley Hart)
And as they journeyed on he entered a certain village; and a certain woman by the name of Martha received him into her home. And she had a sister called Mary who, sitting also beside the Lord’s feet, listened to his speech. But Martha was distracted by serving [diakonia] so much; and she came and said, “Lord, does it not matter to you that my sister left me all alone to serve? Tell her, therefore, that she should assist me. And in reply the Lord said to her, “Martha, Martha, you are anxious and disturbed about many things, but there is need of one thing: for Mary has chosen the good portion, which shall not be taken away from her.”
The translation of the gospel I just read comes from biblical scholar David Bentley Hart. I like to read different translations of Scripture to see how and where the words differ, depending upon emphasis, or theological leanings, or sometimes good, old stylistic flare. Hart’s translation tends to lack some of the grammatical flourishes, which I find refreshing.
This short passage concludes chapter ten in which Jesus sent out the seventy disciples, told them to shake the dust off their feet from the places that did not welcome them, and then responded to a certain lawyer with the parable of the good Samaritan. Now Jesus and his disciples (hopefully not all 70) are received into the home of Martha and Mary. They’ve been traveling. They’re probably hungry, thirsty, and a bit dusty from the road. Welcoming them will be quite the undertaking.
In Hart’s translation, instead of Martha being distracted by “her many tasks” she is distracted by the all-encompassing work of “serving” a whole entourage of people. Similarly, rather than Martha asking Jesus if he cares that Mary left her sister to “do all the work by myself?” the term “to serve” is repeated, just as it is in the Greek. The word for ‘serve’ here is diakonia. It’s the basis for terms like deacon - a person who serves in the church (often supporting priests and other clergy) - or, the diaconate - a program for training to become a deacon. It is also the word used in Luke’s gospel after Jesus serves his disciples a final passover meal and tells them, “I am among you as one who serves.”
So, In other words, for Martha to fulfill her role as one who serves a multitude of disciples she needs some help. It’s likely that she’s already directing household staff and others to do various tasks, and there are still more responsibilities to attend to.
So, rather than trying to pull Mary away discretely, she goes straight to Jesus—‘tell Mary to give me some help (she’s right there at your feet, after all).’ But Jesus tells Martha that Mary has chosen the “good portion.” Again, Hart’s translation is different from those that state that Mary has chosen “the better part.” Does this soften his rebuke? Perhaps, but according to feminist scholars, it is no less comparative in a judgmental sort of way.
We meet Martha and her sister Mary in the gospel of Luke, and in John’s gospel (where they are joined by their brother Lazarus). Only the author of Luke pits the two sisters directly against each other: one trying to run a household, the other quietly listening to Jesus’ teaching. Elsewhere in John, Mary is the one who kneels at Jesus’ feet to spread fragrant oil and wipe them with the oil and her tears—a significant act in and of itself—and Martha is the one who recognizes Jesus as the Messiah before he raises Lazarus from the dead. So, how are we to understand the concern of Martha and the passivity of Mary in the Lukan text?
The importance of both women, first of all, should not be missed. In the life of the community that is emerging following Jesus’ death and resurrection, gathering for meals and hospitality is the pulse that maintains connection and continuity of the gospel message. Martha’s service, then, is absolutely crucial. And, in a society that considers women’s roles as always less than the men; where a woman’s place is always under a father, a brother, a husband, or other male relative; and that sees little to no value for educating common women/folk—for Mary to stop working in order to listen to Jesus is nearly revolutionary.
The two sisters are like contemplation and action in the presence of Jesus, and demonstrate aspects of how we live in Christ (to use Paul’s common refrain). Both are necessary. Both are good. They are the ebb and flow of a life of serving God. Whether we are serving others in Christ, or pausing to listen to the teachings of Jesus, both together constitute our life of worship as community, and as the body of Christ here in this place.
And who is this Jesus, whom we worship, whom we serve, at whose feet we sometimes allow ourselves to sit?
Our reading from the letter to the Colossians today begins with an ancient hymn—one of the first praise and worship songs about Jesus that was composed. It begins,
He is the image of the invisible God, the firstborn of all creation, for in him all things in heaven and on earth were created, things visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or powers--all things have been created through him and for him. He himself is before all things, and in him all things hold together.
(Beautiful, is it not?)
As a theologian, what I love about this hymn of praise is the way the author (possibly Paul, likely someone else) links the person of Jesus with the God of Creation using the figure from the Hebrew Scriptures known as Woman Wisdom. This figure of Wisdom would have been familiar to the Jewish followers of Jesus. She shows up in Proverbs 8 where she cries out at the crossroads and at the entrance of a town, inviting all who pass by to seek (her) / she who is knowledge of God. What she offers is “better than jewels” or wealth. And She can speak from a place of authority because she has been at God’s side since the beginning.
“Ages ago I was set up,
at the first, before the beginning of the earth.
When there were no depths I was brought forth,
when there were no springs abounding with water. . . .
When he established the heavens, I was there;
when he drew a circle on the face of the deep,
when he made firm the skies above,
when he established the fountains of the deep,
when he assigned to the sea its limit,
so that the waters might not transgress his command,
when he marked out the foundations of the earth,
then I was beside him, like a master worker, . . . .
Whoever finds me finds life . . .
The language here informs how the early church came to understand and articulate the mystery of Jesus as fully human and fully divine. It also opens a path for understanding how God the Creator can relate to creation—not as one fully removed, but as one who is fully present among the community of creation (which includes humanity)—through Wisdom. (If you’ve ever heard Jesus described as the “Word and Wisdom” of God, that comes - in part - from this tradition found in Proverbs and elsewhere.)
The early church drew upon the figure of Woman Wisdom when describing who is Jesus (the) Christ as a way of affirming his eternal nature. How else would it be possible for Jesus of Nazareth to offer living water, to feed and heal multitudes, to be raised from the dead, if he were not united with the eternal life of God’s own being? Yes, Jesus was born of Mary. And, yes, Jesus is the firstborn of all creation.
Herein lies the mystery and the joy of the incarnation—Divinity entering the atmosphere to breathe our air, God with us—and not only us humans, but ALL of creation. The good news of the gospel is not meant for humanity alone.
He himself is before all things, and in him all things hold together. . . (For in him all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and) through him God was pleased to reconcile to himself all things, . . .
Friends, there is a rich tradition that’s referred to as cosmic Christology: the theological assertion that locates Jesus at the nexus of creation and redemption for the whole of the cosmos—from leviathan in the depths of the seas to slugs in the depths of the forests, from ocean currents and unruly volcanoes to petulant humans and the constant movement of constellations. In God in Christ all things live and move and have their being. The psalms speak of this when they proclaim “O Lord, how manifold are your works! In wisdom you have made them all; the earth is full of your creatures… These all look to you to give them their food in due season… When you send forth your spirit, they are created; and you renew the face of the ground.” (148:24,27,30)
A cosmic Christology unites Jesus with creation in its suffering and in its praises, in its life and in its extinctions. It forms a basis for divine solidarity with and among the rest of creation (humans among the more-than-human world).
(So) Who is this Jesus, whom we worship, whom we serve, whose voice we seek? He is Son of the living God and he is Wisdom. He is the One in whom all things are held, in heaven and on earth, things visible and invisible.
This ancient hymn to Christ offers not only a theological statement but also an invitation:
If all things are held together in Christ, what might it mean for us to be held in community with the more-than-human world?
If all things are created through him and for him, how might that shift the way we perceive the rest of creation? How might we listen to and serve the surrounding creation as part of our worship?
Each Sunday when we partake of communion as part of our worship, we encounter elements of creation in the grain and grape, we receive the products of service in the bread and juice/wine, and we benefit from the fruits of contemplation in our prayers. When we take the grain and the grape, we receive the Holy One in whom all things are held together.
The meal at this table is not simply a spiritual communion between myself and Jesus, or yourself and Jesus. It is a communal act that we do together to form us and re-form us into the body of Christ. Similarly, as we partake of the elements we are united with creation—grain and grape grown from the Earth, gathered and transformed by the hands of our neighbors (known to us and unknown to us). In this meal, we are held together in Christ in very material and tangible ways.


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