This week, as we revisit the Lenten section in Sacred Journeys, the readings come from a chapter titled “Tender Anger: Mary and Martha.” In this chapter we reflect on the story of the raising of Jesus’ friend Lazarus, with particular attention to the exchanges that Jesus has with Mary and Martha, the sisters of Lazarus.
It is impossible to know just what inflection Mary and Martha each have in their voice as they confront Jesus about the seeming tardiness of his arrival. One can imagine, though, that their voices may hold an edge of anger as they speak to him when he shows up after Lazarus has already died. These grieving sisters are Jesus’ friends, too, and they feel the freedom to express the rawness of their emotions to him.
The story of Mary and Martha, and how their interaction with Jesus intertwines with their brother’s raising and restoration, invites us to consider the place that anger has in our own lives. What does anger have to say to us, and how might it help lead us to new life?
Invocation
Sustain me, Fiery Power,
when I journey through fields of anger.
Make me wise to the lessons to be learned here
and strengthen me, that my voice
may be clear and life-giving.
Text
Monday
I approach this story with hesitation. I hesitate because I wonder if I am reading Mary and Martha’s anger into the text. I hesitate because I am still learning to recognize and honor Anger’s voice. I hesitate because women have much to be angry about—with our sisters as well as our brothers—and precious little safe space in which to let our anger dance.
But here it is. This story may not be so much about Mary and Martha’s anger as it is about mine and that of many women I know. And if Jesus’ inaction in the face of his friends’ pain doesn’t make them angry, it does me.
The pain and anger I hear in the words of Martha, which Mary repeats, “Lord, if you had been here, my brother would not have died,” echo the pain and anger I feel each time persons in power fail to respond to those who cry for help. Their words echo the pain and anger I feel when those who bear the power of life let suffering continue.
The question is never whether anger is right or wrong. Anger—like any other emotion—is, and it is always a sign of something deeper. Given appropriate expression, anger tells us about injustice, loss, grief, and damaged relationships. It tells us about ourselves. Given appropriate space, it opens a path toward change. And as Martha and Mary discovered, it can bring life from death.
Questions for reflection
What place does anger have in your life? Do you experience it? Do you pay attention to it when it surfaces? What prompts your anger? What do you do with it?
Adapted from Sacred Journeys © Jan L. Richardson
For an introduction to the Lenten journey we’re making here at Sanctuary of Women, visit A Season of Spiraling. Today’s artwork originally appeared here at The Painted Prayerbook.
It’s nice to know that God is big enough for my anger, especially when it’s bigger than myself. God holds it all and offers even more space for forgiveness and insight and realization that it’s not God I’m really angry with but sometimes just a sense of no control over what life brings.
Martha and Mary were good friends with Jesus and so felt free to share their grief and anger. Are we so friendly with Jesus that we too can share our anger – that part of ourselves we wouldn’t label ‘wonderful’ or holy. I hear Jesus say, ‘come as you are.’ Francis of Assisi says – “What I am before God that I am and nothing more”. I like to add my own phrase to FRancis by saying – and nothing less. God wants all of me – here i am.
Linda, how lovely to hear from you! Thanks so much for your thoughts. Amen to everything, and thanks especially for your words from (and addition to!) Francis of Assisi. Your thoughts helped inspire the reflection I posted today (Saturday)—thank you for that as well.
Many blessings to you and yours in these Lenten days and beyond…