Sermon Tone Analysis
Overall tone of the sermon
This automated analysis scores the text on the likely presence of emotional, language, and social tones. There are no right or wrong scores; this is just an indication of tones readers or listeners may pick up from the text.
A score of 0.5 or higher indicates the tone is likely present.
Emotion Tone
Anger
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Disgust
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Fear
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Joy
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Sadness
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Language Tone
Analytical
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Confident
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Tentative
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Social Tone
Openness
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Conscientiousness
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Extraversion
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Agreeableness
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Emotional Range
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Tone of specific sentences
Tones
Emotion
Language
Social Tendencies
Anger
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Margin
This conversation between Jesus and Martha is fascinating.
Picture the scene with Jesus coming as a dinner guest, which likely means that with his disciples, there are many dinner guests.
Martha is doing everything she can to be the hostess with the mostest.
She’s timing that roast to come out of the oven at the perfect moment.
And that means the potatoes and veggies need to be on schedule so everything stays warm.
And the gravy needs to be stirred so that there are no lumps.
And don’t forget to let the butter rest on the counter so that it is softened before spreading onto the rolls.
The guests are already here and the cheese board isn’t ready to go out yet.
Now Martha is starting to get a little uptight.
She could use a little help.
Where is her sister, Mary, anyway?
Wait, she is over there just sitting with the other guests listening to Jesus? Mary isn’t doing anything to help out here?
What does Martha’s frustration produce?
This is where Martha’s anxiety erupts and she loses it.
Maybe there are some details of the story that Luke leaves out.
We can only speculate.
Maybe Martha relatedly asked Mary for help and got no response.
Maybe Martha just kept to herself letting her frustration stew and build until it just boiled over and she exploded with an outburst.
Either way, Luke frames it in a way where Martha’s angry tantrum is not directed at Mary, but at Jesus.
Look at her words.
“Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself?
Tell her to help me!”
Even though Martha is asking a question, the Greek arrangement of the question assumes the answer.
It’s like when I walk into the kitchen and see my kids fixing up a snack, and I say, “You’re going to clean up this mess when you’re done, right?
Are you going to pick up after yourself?”
I’m not really asking the question.
I am telling them what I expect.
That’s the tone of Martha’s question to Jesus; it’s not really a question at all.
She is saying, “Jesus, I expect you to intervene here on my behalf.”
Martha is way past being nice.
She is long gone with asking Mary to give her a hand.
Martha is not making a polite interruption.
“Pardon me for a moment please.
Jesus, do you suppose that you might be able to excuse my sister Mary give me a hand with the dinner?
I would appreciate it.”
Nope.
That’s not it.
Martha is now out of control.
She flies off the handle.
She’s not asking Jesus anything.
She is ordering Jesus.
She is giving a command that she expects Jesus to do for her.
“Look here Jesus, you ought to care that I’m doing all this stuff for you all by myself with no help at all! Mary isn’t pulling her weight and doing her share.
Tell her to help me!”
Wow! How did Martha get to that point?
She is not receptive to Jesus’ teachings.
She is not concerned one bit with what Mary needs, or how Jesus is reaching to fill Mary’s need at that moment.
Martha is only concerned with what Mary is NOT doing.
Martha is judging Mary’s choice as wrong, and now she is demanding that Jesus judge her the same way.
Look here, Jesus.
I am right; Mary is wrong; and you need to tell her the same thing!
What does my Martha moment look like?
So much for being the hostess with the mostest.
Maybe we can take a minute here and admit that we’ve all had Martha moments.
I mean, I juggle quite a bit here.
There’s a message to write, calls to make, visit to schedule, committee agenda to prepare, staff meeting, emails.
There are those who always seem to be the ones called upon to fill committee positions, serve as mentors, take care of the grounds, nominated for council, arrange the Life Skills class, teach Sunday school.
You get where I’m going here.
We’ve got a busy place happening.
There’s a lot going on.
And sometimes I feel like I need to tell God that he needs to order some other people to get with the program and chip in.
We’ve got commitments to keep, spots to fill, deadlines to meet, bills to pay.
Here I am preaching a sermon on serving.
It’s time to twist a few arms and lay down a guilt trip.
It’s time to pump up our volunteer roster with some new names.
Lord, don’t you care that I am left to do all this work by myself?
Tell them to help me!
Maybe the frustration looks different for you.
Lord, don’t you care that I am working to raise kids as a single parent?
Lord, don’t you care that I face health issues that limit my freedom and mobility?
Lord, don’t you care that the bottom has fallen out from beneath my business and now I have to keep working when all my friends are retiring?
Lord, don’t you care that I have been abused and mistreated and now struggle to find a way to bring myself out from this cycle of poverty and oppression?
Lord, tell someone to help me out!
We’ve all had Martha moments.
We’ve all had times of questioning God why it is we’ve been stuck working through stresses and anxieties.
We’ve all been frustrated when it feels like we bear it alone and no one else is there to help.
We’ve all faced moments in life when it seems like I simply cannot take on anything more—I cannot handle another task—I cannot be responsible for another detail.
And then the pastor comes on Sunday morning and wants to talk to us about our mission and vision to serve.
Yeah, right.
Whatever.
I’ve got no margin left in my life.
You know what margins are—those blank open borders around the edge of a piece of paper.
Margins are the empty space left to be filled.
When I used to write papers for school, the professors would assign guidelines for margins so that there was space for them to write in comments on the paper as they graded the assignment.
Without margins, there would not be any space left for those comments to go.
More and more we live busy lives with no margin.
We have no space left in our schedules.
Our margins have been shrunk by any variety of things.
Maybe it’s overscheduling.
Maybe it’s declining health.
Maybe it’s loss of economic opportunity.
Maybe it’s the hours I spend binge-watching YouTube.
Maybe it’s an addiction I just cannot shake off.
Martha is living with no margin.
I can relate.
I know what life with no margin is like too.
And just like Martha, when the obligation or expectation comes along to engage in service, I stressfully try to shuffle into the deck of my calendar.
And that’s what service ends up looking like for us, doesn’t it?
Overworked, overbooked, frustrated at God and others.
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