Like Abraham, Like Mary

The story of the Oaks of Mamre is one many people don’t know. In the book of Genesis, Abraham is approached by three travelers. He doesn’t recognize who they are, but he immediately goes out of his way to welcome them. He brings water for their feet, offers rest beneath the trees, and prepares a generous meal.

These were no ordinary men. They were messengers from God. Some scholars even see them as a mysterious foreshadowing of the Trinity.

Later in the Law, we are commanded to welcome the stranger and care for the sojourner. We are responsible for the alien among us. And we are called to love our neighbor as ourselves.

Fast forward to the Gospel of Luke. Jesus visits the home of two sisters: Mary and Martha. Mary, seeing Him, sits at His feet. She listens. She learns. She simply wants to be with Him. Martha, meanwhile, gets to work. She prepares the meal and sees to His comfort. She, too, acts out of love.

But Martha becomes frustrated. She asks Jesus to tell her sister to help. After all, the work matters. She isn’t wrong. She’s doing a good thing. But she’s missing something. She doesn’t realize the gift being offered in that moment.

This is a hard lesson. Sometimes we get so caught up in what we’re doing, even good and holy things, that we forget why we’re doing them. Mary sat in the presence of the Son of God. She paused to receive the moment. Martha, in her anxiety, lost sight of the truth that the heart of love is presence.

That doesn’t mean we should neglect our responsibilities. Saint Paul reminds us that when we sacrifice and suffer for love, we should rejoice in our afflictions. We fill up what is lacking in the sufferings of Christ by uniting our humble service to His. Christ gave everything for us, and we are called to do the same.

But the goal of our labor is not simply action. It is communion. Christ was present to us, is present to us, and will be present to us in the age to come. We are meant to be present as well, to Him and to each other.

Abraham served his guests like Martha. But he also remained with them, attentive and engaged, like Mary. He did not just offer food. He offered himself. We should take note of both lessons.

True love does not force a choice between action and presence. It holds them together. Let us serve with care, but also stop, listen, and look the beloved in the eye.

That is the better part. And it will not be taken from us.

Ask yourself: In my daily life, do I tend to serve without being present? How can I make space to truly be with the people I love, and with God, this week?