Luke paints her
in her naked petulance,
epitome of crusty cooks
and kitchen tyrants.
Too bad
he never tasted
her mutton stew with roasted peppers,
her olive sesame bread,
a pity
he never drank the wine
she coaxed from figs,
never studied the spices
she easily, precisely
flung
to flavor
the kneaded love
of her hands.
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Hurrah for the Marthas of this world!
I used Sr. Regina’s poem on the 16th Sunday this year. It has been observed before that much of the Gospel finds its setting around the table at a meal. It many cases, there is some underlying discention: “They never wash their hands”: “If He knew what kind of woman…”: “He eats with sinners and publicans”: “One of you will betray me!”. The conversation always leads to food.
The conversation at the Eucharist (readings) brings an affirmation (“renewed covenant”) by the acceptance of the meal, prepared by the Lord in His dual role as Martha and Mary. The contemplation needs the celebration of food. Hence, the essential role of Martha. Q E D (Please don’t deny my premise, or call my middle “undistributed”. TPL