HAVE YOU EVER been the one responsible to plan and carry off a big dinner or birthday party, or perhaps a church event? Did you have any help, or were you left to do everything yourself? The occasion might have been a joyous or important one. The family is finally able to get together this year. Or your daughter is turning 16, and you want the party to be special. Or the church is doing a big outreach, hoping to draw people in the community to Christ. But it can be hard to appreciate any of that when you’re the one who has to manage all the details before and possibly during the event.

Think of poor Martha of Bethany, the sister of Mary and Lazarus. She’s been the subject of countless sermons over the centuries, and is often chided for her anxious busyness, her inability to settle down and sit at the feet of Jesus like her sister Mary. Let it be said first, however, that such a sermon can be hypocritical in congregations that routinely count on their Marthas — female or male! — to get things done, to reach their ministry goals.

And second, also in fairness to Martha, consider her situation. She was probably the oldest of the three siblings, and therefore the one likely to be responsible for running the household. From the description in Luke 10, it sounds like Jesus and the Twelve showed up at her home, and in a generous gesture of hospitality, she invited them to lunch on the spot. No appointment, no warning, no time to plan.

Think about it. What would be your state of mind if you suddenly had to make lunch for a famous man and his twelve hungry associates? You’re probably not going to settle for peanut butter sandwiches, you can’t make a quick run to the grocery store, and DoorDash doesn’t exist yet (well, neither do peanut butter or grocery stores, but you get the point). Luke says that Martha was “distracted by all the preparations that had to be made” (Luke 10:40, NIV). Can we blame her?

And we can probably understand why she gets upset with Mary for just sitting on her duff listening to Jesus instead of helping in the kitchen. She even seems to scold Jesus for not noticing and insisting that Mary do her part: “Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!” (vs. 40). But Jesus’ reply isn’t the one she wants:

“Martha, Martha,” the Lord answered, “you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed—or indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.” (vss. 41-42)

Martha is both “distracted” and “worried.” The first word pictures someone being dragged around by their concerns; the second describes someone being pulled in different directions. You know that feeling, don’t you? You have too many things to do at once, and your frenzied mind is struggling to sort out what’s most important or what needs to be done first.

Is Jesus scolding her for scolding him? Is he saying, “Martha! Stop being such a worrywart”? Or is he speaking to her with loving concern, because he wants the best for her?

I believe it’s the latter. I imagine his tone being gentle as he corrects her. The problem isn’t her busyness or Mary’s laziness. The two sisters simply don’t see the situation the same way. Mary views it as a golden opportunity to drink in Jesus’ wisdom; Martha sees it as an unexpected demand, another responsibility she has to manage. Mary is focused on Jesus; Martha is fragmented by her sudden mental list of things to do. And if we’re being honest, we know that we can be just as fragmented.

Jesus isn’t telling Martha that lunch doesn’t matter, though I imagine him smiling warmly, putting a hand on her shoulder, then saying with a laugh, “Martha, peanut butter will be just fine. Really!” But he also doesn’t want her to feel so fragmented by what she sees as the demands of life. He seems to suggest that if she had her priorities straight, she could learn to be less anxious about all the things that might seem needful at any moment.

And in the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus teaches something similar to hundreds of others.

JESUS HAS TAUGHT his hearers to pray to their heavenly Father for their daily bread. I’ve suggested that we need to see this as a big-picture prayer — but that’s not to say that today’s bread doesn’t matter. I think it’s likely that most of the people listening to Jesus’ sermon were the poor and needy rather than the rich and satisfied. Indeed, the final verses in Matthew 4 suggest that the crowds were those who had come to Jesus for healing. Moreover, remember how the sermon began: Jesus blessed the poor in spirit, the “have-nots” of society. They were probably the ones sitting and listening.

Similarly, think back to John 6 and the conversation about bread that went sideways the day after Jesus miraculously fed a crowd of thousands. Those who pushed for an endless provision of bread were probably people who weren’t sure from one day to the next whether their family would have enough to eat.

If so, then surely Jesus knew all this. And still, even as he taught them to pray for their daily bread, he pushed them to think beyond their daily needs to the big picture. Thus, as we read in Matthew 6, Jesus teaches:

Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? (vs. 25)

“Therefore,” Jesus begins, pointing back to everything he’s already taught about having our desires and priorities in order, “don’t worry about your life.” It’s the same word as the one used in Luke 10 to describe Martha, picturing someone who’s fragmented by all the cares pulling them in different directions.

And again, when he tells his hearers not to worry about food and clothing, he’s speaking to people who actually do worry about such things. He’s not saying that they shouldn’t obsess over which flavor of cheesecake to order at a restaurant. He’s not saying that they shouldn’t care about whether their clothes are fashionable. Those are the concerns of the wealthy and privileged.

But how then can Jesus tell the poor not to worry about such basic needs as food and clothing?

Imagine a preacher walking into a homeless shelter and saying that. Not the best strategy for spreading the gospel.

Jesus isn’t saying that food and clothing are irrelevant or illegitimate concerns. But they’re not the only concerns, and he wants all his followers to be pursuing the right kind of treasure. To do that, they will have to believe in and depend on the providence of a gracious Father. Let’s explore that next.