Only One Thing Is Necessary
Painting: David Hockney
For those of you who have been following, I’ve been thinking a lot about thresholds. We all cross over our personal thresholds, some small, some big. It seems right now our world is stuck on a prolonged threshold too. Maybe it’s Covid. Whatever it is, I know I’m ready to crossover. I think our world is also ready.
Much of my own thinking began in earnest, when, nine years ago, I stepped out of my office as President of Seattle Pacific University. I sort of staggered down the hall, a bit bewildered about where I was going, and then I was out the door. Blinking in the Seattle summer sunshine, I asked: What now? Retirement is not much I had thought about, growing older even less. But I knew at that moment I was on a threshold. I couldn’t see clearly down the road, but I knew I had to move forward.
I turned to a lot of places for help, the Scriptures, for sure, to the many writers I’ve trusted for so long, rereading a number of them. I also turned to the monastic tradition, seeking to draw on their deep teaching about spiritual practices. I turned to the great Celtic tradition, which has much to say about thresholds. From these places I learned that thresholds have much to do with identity: Who am I now? Who might I become? Are there threads that tie me to the past? Do I feel the tugs of new calling?
But here’s the main thing I want to share this morning: While crossing any threshold, in those thin places, as the Celts call them, this is when we ask in earnest: What is the one necessary thing that will get me back on the right path?
I was struck this morning in Pray As You Go with that tender story in Luke, about two different women, Mary and Martha, who seemed compelled by two different notions of what is the one thing necessary:
While they were on their way Jesus came to a village where a woman named Martha made him welcome. She had a sister, Mary, who seated herself at the Lord’s feet and stayed there listening to his words. Now Martha was distracted by her many tasks, so she came to him and said, ‘Lord, do you not care that my sister has left me to get on with the work by myself? Tell her to come and give me a hand.’ But the Lord answered, ‘Martha, Martha, you are fretting and fussing about so many things; only one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen what is best; it shall not be taken away from her.’ Luke 10:38-42
This is what I needed to hear this morning, for Jesus to tell me: “Only one thing is necessary.” Really? And what is that? Could it really be all the “fretting and fussing about so many things,” the stuff with which we fill our days, the stuff where we become experts? That can’t be it, can it?
And then I also found myself humming the old hymn:
Turn your eyes upon Jesus,
Look full in His wonderful face,
And the things of earth will grow strangely dim,
In the light of His glory and grace.
Turn our eyes upon Jesus? Could Mary, naïve though it may sound, have found the necessary thing, sitting at the feet of Jesus, listening, adoring, praising?
It takes a lot of work to sort through the debris, all the unnecessary things, the fretting and fussing, but that’s exactly what we need right now. It can’t be politics, I’m convinced. It can’t be the profound cultural conflicts we witness all around us. It can’t be the widespread divisions and hatred coming at us from every corner. It can’t be what the news feeds us relentlessly every moment of the day. It can’t be any one of these things, or all of them, can it?
Ancient Celtic Cross
I’ve come to believe, if we turn our eyes upon Jesus, all this other stuff will fall in place, at least it will “grow strangely dim.” I know that’s a huge statement, but I’m growing more convinced, if we can do this, authentically, regularly, sincerely, this necessary thing will restore our focus.
Let’s try sitting at the feet of Jesus, like Mary, just listening, for a change. This is what I’m trying to do on my threshold. It’s like a new conversion for me. I think it’s the one thing necessary: Turn your eyes upon Jesus.