Martha, Martha… Has the Church Forgotten Her Priorities?

Thoughts on a feastday that has seen a lot of redaction

Johannes Vermeer, Christ in the House of Martha and Mary, c. 1655 (source)

Preliminary note

Remember the “blognic”—when readers could meet a blogger at a public location for in-person conversation? I've decided to try that in Chicago this coming Saturday, August 3. Anyone who'd like to meet me for lunch should come to the Berghoff Restaurant (17 W Adams St, Chicago, IL 60603) at 1:00 pm, and ask for the Kwasniewski table. If you pronounce the name correctly, you get a free cherry in your drink!

N.B.: Please message me or email me to say you'll be coming so that we can have a fairly accurate head count for the restaurant's sake. Participants will cover their own expenses. You can look at the menu here.

Inside the Berghoff — a comfortable place for a Saturday lunch!

I will be visiting the Art Institute beforehand (and possibly afterwards too). This premiere art museum of Chicago is located only a couple of blocks from the Berghoff. So if you’d like to “make a day of it,” you could meet up with me for lunch, then walk to the museum, and finally head over to St. John Cantius for the 7:30 pm concert of His Majesty's Men, which will feature 15th & 16th century polyphony and three world premieres — including the premiere of my motet “Ego Dilecto Meo” with a text from the Canticle of Canticles.

For those only attending the concert, I will be sticking around afterwards for the reception, so we can meet then too.

Tickets for the concert may be purchased at the door, or ahead of time here.

Now, on to our feature article. —PK

The feast as it was and will be

In the Roman Rite (by now, readers of this Substack should know that this phrase refers, for me at any rate, to “the once and future Roman rite,” not the modern rite of Paul VI, which cannot, pace Vatican nominalism, be called by that name), the Gospel for today’s feast of St. Martha is always Luke 10:38–42:

Now it came to pass as they went, that he entered into a certain town: and a certain woman named Martha, received him into her house. And she had a sister called Mary, who sitting also at the Lord’s feet, heard his word. But Martha was busy about much serving. Who stood and said: “Lord, hast thou no care that my sister hath left me alone to serve? speak to her therefore, that she help me.” And the Lord answering, said to her: “Martha, Martha, thou art careful, and art troubled about many things: But one thing is necessary. Mary hath chosen the best part, which shall not be taken away from her.”

Thou art careful, and art troubled about many things: but one thing is necessary (unum est necessarium). Mary hath chosen the best part, which shall not be taken away from her.

These words have never ceased to provoke disquiet, self-examination, even annoyance from those of us who are much more inclined to act and feel like Martha, and much less inclined to go all in with Mary, “just sitting there and doing nothing,” as we might be tempted to think. Certainly, the scandal (for I cannot see it in any other way) of parents who resent and resist at all costs a contemplative vocation on the part of one or more of their children — not only in our own godless age, but frequently even in the Middle Ages, when the world was more Catholic than it had ever been before and may ever be again — shows how deeply against the grain is Our Lord’s teaching: “Seek ye first the kingdom of God and His righteousness” (Mt. 6:33), echoed by St. Paul: “Seek the things that are above, where Christ is sitting at the right hand of God: mind the things that are above, not the things that are upon the earth. For you are dead; and your life is hid with Christ in God” (Col. 3:1–3).