The One Thing That Is Needful

More than any other episode related in the Gospels, I return again and again to the story of the two sisters, Mary and Martha, who were visited by Jesus. No saying, no parable, no blood-soaked sacrifice connected with the life of Christ has exercised a more powerful hold over me, nor struck me as so crucial for our time, and for all time, than this brief, unassuming incident, which seems to encapsulate the very essence of religious life:

"Now it came to pass, as they went, that he entered into a certain village: and a certain woman named Martha received him into her house. And she had a sister called Mary, which also sat at Jesus' feet, and heard his word. But Martha was cumbered about much serving, and came to him, and said, Lord, dost thou not care that my sister hath left me to serve alone? bid her therefore that she help me. And Jesus answered and said unto her, Martha, Martha, thou art careful and troubled about many things: But one thing is needful: and Mary hath chosen that good part, which shall not be taken away from her."
~ Luke 10:38-42

Martha, for all her hard work and hurrying to please the Teacher, could not find favor in his eyes, while her sister, who merely sat at his feet and listened, was commended for having chosen the "one thing" that is needful.

How necessary this message is for those of us living in our modern, tightly-wound industrial societies, busying ourselves and encouraging one another to be busy with all sorts of cares. So many apparent duties and obligations swarm. There is, we are told, so much to be done, and only a useless person would sit idly by, listening to God, while others work.

Just imagine how our politicians, educators, and elders would respond to two such people as Mary and Martha. No doubt, they would honor Martha for all her labors and her worries. Mary, they would laugh to scorn and dismiss as a good-for-nothing dreamer; a lazy bum. Yet, far from being "good-for-nothing", the Master marks her out as having performed the one thing -- the only thing -- that is a necessary good. She has stilled herself, and listened attentively to the voice of God.


We imagine that nothing is so easy as being still; sitting and listening. In fact, there may be nothing so difficult for us. All our habits and customs are active. If we sit attentively, it tends to be in front of some sort of screen, which inundates us with novel sounds, colors, shapes, and lights; all necessary to captivate our attention. And this is how so many of us seek relaxation, but only after we have actively exhausted ourselves in one direction or another. The instant we are silent, and there is nothing beckoning like a madman for our attention, we become restless, -- or, rather, we become aware of our restlessness. We cannot be still.

Consider it. We can neither be still nor attentive without something clamouring for our attention. Many of us have lost the capacity even to read a book, as this requires too much stillness. We may be able to sing like angles, but we cannot be silent. We may be able to multiply in our minds, but we cannot clear our minds. We can work long, gruelling hours, even run marathons, scale mountains, score touchdowns... But we cannot be still.

We will exert all our powers of concentration, and strain our wills beyond what we thought possible, in order to obtain some coveted worldy end. Whether it is wealth, fame, prestige, the development of a craft, or however we measure accomplishment, -- we will demand more from ourselves, and push ourselves relentlessly in pursuit of that goal. But when it comes to the one thing that is needful, we have no will to do it, nor any sense of how to relinquish our will to do a great many other things. What would appear to be the easiest thing in the world is utterly beyond us. We have no power to relax.

We resist relaxation like the grave, because it is impossible to relax deeply without letting go, trusting, and falling into the unknown. Relaxation brings an inevitable death with it, and an inevitable rebirth into a world and a self transformed. This is why meditation is at the heart of all true religious teaching and discipline. It is why Jesus says we must die and be born again. The life of Christian devotion is an inward life, which springs up from the very depths of meditative experience. It is not some heroic feat, or endless succession of feats, which we perform outwardly for all to see, -- but, rather, a state in which we do nothing, and are nothing; having become entirely receptive to, and dependent upon, the deepest promptings of the Holy Spirit within us. In this stillness, and only in this stillness, will we discover the humility, patience, purity, simplicity, compassion, and fortitude of the saints.

"Soren Kierkegaard considered what sort of effort should be done to pursue the Kingdom of God. Should a person get a suitable job in order to exert a virtuous influence? His answer: no, we must first seek God's Kingdom. Then should we give away all our money to feed the poor? Again the answer: no, we must first seek God's Kingdom. Well, then perhaps we are to go out and preach this truth to the world that people are to seek first God's Kingdom? Once again the answer is a resounding: no, we are first to seek the Kingdom of God. Kierkegaard concludes, 'Then in a certain sense it is nothing I shall do. Yes, certainly, in a certain sense it is nothing, become nothing before God, learn to keep silent, in this silence is the beginning, which is, first to seek God's Kingdom.' And so I urge you to still every motion that is not rooted in the Kingdom. Become quiet, hushed, motionless until you are finally centered. Strip away all excess baggage and nonessential trappings until you have come into the stark reality of the Kingdom of God. Let go of all distractions until you are driven into the Core."
~ Richard Foster, The Freedom of Simplicity