There are 900,000 kinds of insects; 10,000 species of birds; 73,000 tree species—our Creator loves variety! Consider any first-grade class. One student asks for more math while another plays by dancing pencils and erasers as if they were dolls. A freckled, sandy-haired Dennis the Menace grins mischievously beside a solemn girl with dark eyes and hair cascading down her back. One wants to be a paleontologist; another wants to be a garbage collector. Truly, God, who “formed my inmost being [and] knit me in my mother’s womb,” crafted with exquisite care, designing uniqueness. 

It’s no different for Martha and Mary. If we look at the sisters dualistically, one’s right, one’s wrong, one’s good, one’s bad. But Jesus delights in each, seeing them contemplatively, without judging. In Martha he smiles at the four-year-old snitch: Why drag him in? Why can’t she address Mary directly? When we’re honest, we admit there’s much we don’t know about Scripture. In this case, we don’t know Jesus’ tone of voice when he seems to rebuke Martha. Nor do we know if he chopped the onions afterward . . .  

As Lawrence Freeman, OSB, points out, Jesus calls Martha’s name twice, away from her stress and distractions, back to her truest, best self. Martha’s turn will come—she’s not defined solely by her blunt outburst. The sisters’ personalities remain consistent in Luke and John chapter 11. Before he raises Lazarus, Jesus appreciates that Martha’s intelligence, which recognizes his identity, discusses the theology of resurrection. Mary at her brother’s tomb says little, but weeps, and Jesus weeps with her. He instinctively gives each woman  exactly what she needs without labeling or analyzing: “With all [their] ways you are familiar.” All of us, too: “fearfully, wonderfully made.”