“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.”
This is from the Gospel of Luke 10:41-42.
It was not the Gospel reading this weekend, but I kept thinking about it. For you see, usually on Saturday–after my cleaning is done–I glance at my missal and scribble down the Introit Psalm, the Epistle, and the Gospel for Sunday, and sneak out the door for a Holy Hour in front of the Blessed Sacrament.
I like this hour of quiet, and when my mind begins to wander, I open up my Douay-Rheims Pocket Psalms and New Testament and pray the next day’s readings, in preparation for Sunday Mass.
Well, I lost the paper where I had written them down. So, yesterday I guessed and ended up in Luke 10. (I was only 3 chapters off.)
And I read, and reread the verse above, for I am such a Martha–careful and troubled about many things. Things that are secondary. Things that should be set aside. Things that should be cast into hell, as a waste of my time.
For example, I wonder about this blog. Am I wasting my time? Am I wasting your time? Surely there are better things to read on the internet, if one should even bother with the internet.
Furthermore, I never can quite say what I want to say. Even now. I’d like to tell you to step out of the Rat Race of the World, but here I am, in the middle of it, online.
I’d like to tell you to quit comparing yourself to other families and to just put First Things First. Go to Confession. Pack a picnic lunch with a bottle of Flat Top Rose, invite another family, and spend a few hours on the grass.
Throw away your Wendell Berry novel that promotes breaking the Ninth Commandment and read some Hilaire Belloc poetry or his The Path to Rome or his The Cruise of the Nona. (I finally secured a copy–it’s ridiculously hard to find–and chuckled endlessly at his dedication. I haven’t finished the book yet.)
My sons found some nasty, white maggots the other day. Do you know what they decided to do with them? Put them in a jar with a slice of cheese to observe them. Those slimy things wormed right into the cheese and then formed a cocoon-like shell, which darkened after a few days. Then, more days later, a fly emerged. So revolting and yet, fascinating.
Do I have a point for that story? Nope.
Is there a point for this blog post? I’m not sure, and I apologize for wasting your time.