Serving others isn’t a duty to be discharged; it is the primary language of God’s love in action.
Look at . We’ve heard this story so many times we’ve turned it into a cartoon. Jesus is visiting. Martha is in the kitchen, or maybe just outside it, frantic. Mary is sitting at Jesus’ feet, listening. And Martha? Martha is the one doing something about it. She’s hosting. She’s feeding. She’s making sure the house doesn’t collapse under the weight of hospitality.
It’s easy to root for Martha. Who wouldn’t? She has her act together. But Jesus says something that feels like a slap in the face to anyone who values productivity: "Martha, Martha, you are worried and upset about many things, but few things are needed—or indeed only one. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her."
Here’s the thing that trips us up. We assume "many things" means the work is bad. Or worse, we assume Mary’s choice means doing nothing is better than doing something. Neither is true. The issue isn’t the work. The issue is the posture behind it.
Martha wasn’t working because she loved them. She was working because she felt the weight of expectation—and her own inadequacy to meet it. She was serving from anxiety, not affection.
We live in a culture that celebrates the "useful" person. The individual who shows up with the casserole when someone moves across town. The individual who stays late to fix the spreadsheet. The individual who says "yes" when they mean "no." We call them reliable. We call them blessed. But have you ever noticed how the most faithful servants often look the most exhausted?
It’s late August now. The days are getting shorter, just a fraction earlier each morning. There’s a crispness in the air that reminds me to pull on a jacket before I step out. It’s harvest time, sort of. Not just the crops, but the results of our labor. And this is a good time to ask: When you serve, are you harvesting joy? Or are you just burning through your calendar?
The Difference Between Service and Ministry
Let’s get our definitions straight, because this is where so much of our Christian burnout starts.
"Service" often implies a transaction. I give my time; you get your need met. It’s functional. "Ministry," in the biblical sense, is relational. It’s about presence.
Jesus didn’t merely wash feet because it was a dirty job. He washed feet because he knew who he was and whose they were (). He knew his power. He knew his origin. So he could kneel without losing his dignity. He could get down in the dirt without being defined by it.
Martha, on the other hand, was serving from anxiety. Fear that if she didn’t do it all perfectly, the guests would leave unhappy. Fear that if she missed a detail, her worth as a hostess would be questioned.
Does this sound familiar?
I remember a few years ago, my church decided to host a massive community picnic. I was on the organizing committee. For three weeks, I was vibrating with caffeine and cortisol. I made lists. I bought napkins in bulk. I checked the weather forecast four times a day. On the big day, it rained. Hard.
We moved the tables under a huge tent, but the ground got muddy. People’s shoes got dirty. The punch spilled. And I stood there, smiling so hard my cheeks hurt, thinking, This is a disaster. They’re going to think we didn’t try hard enough.
Then I looked closer. A man was laughing as he tried to save his sandwich from the mud. A child was splashing in a puddle, completely ignoring the "do not step on grass" sign. A friend sat beside me, not helping, just listening to my rant about the tent poles.
Jesus was there. Not in a literal sense, but in spirit. He wasn’t looking at the mud. He was looking at the people.
That’s when it hit me: I had been serving them, but I hadn’t really been with them. I was so busy managing the event that I missed the ministry of presence.
Jesus did it differently. When he saw the crowds, "he had compassion on them" (). Compassion isn’t just pity. It’s a physical stirring of the gut. It’s seeing someone’s need and feeling it as your own. He didn’t merely feed them; he healed their sicknesses (). He addressed the whole person—body, soul, and spirit.
So, how do we move from Martha’s anxiety to Jesus’ compassion? How do we serve without losing our souls?
Three Ways to Serve Like Jesus
It’s not about working less. It’s about working differently. Here are three shifts that have helped me, and hopefully will help you too.
1. Start with Identity, Not Issue
Martha was focused on the issue (the dinner). Jesus was focused on his identity (the Lord of all things).
When you serve, ask yourself: Who am I when no one is watching? If your worth comes from your output, you will burn out. If your worth comes from who you are in Christ, you can give freely.
Think about Peter. He was a fisherman before he was an apostle. But when Jesus called him, he didn’t merely start fishing for people; he started living as a son. He served from a stance of being loved, not needing to prove it.
"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud" ().
Notice that love isn’t proud. Pride says, "Look what I did." Love says, "Look at who they are." When you serve with love, you aren’t trying to fix everyone. You’re just walking alongside them.
2. Look for the "One Thing"
Jesus told Martha that "few things are needed—or indeed only one." ().
This doesn’t mean we should be lazy. It means we should be intentional. There is only one thing that matters in any given moment: loving the person right in front of you.
Perhaps it’s listening to your spouse instead of checking your phone while they talk. Maybe it’s helping a neighbor carry their groceries without making it about how much you helped. Perhaps it’s sitting with someone in the hospital who isn’t going to get better, just being there.
It’s easy if your house is messy when the guests arrive. It’s fine if you don’t have all the answers. It’s acceptable if your serving looks a little lopsided.
God isn’t looking for perfection. He’s looking for availability.
"Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others, as faithful stewards of God’s grace in its various forms" ().
Notice he says "whatever gift." Not the perfect gift. Not the shiny, new gift. The one you have. The one that fits your hands.
3. Embrace the Mess
Jesus didn’t avoid the mess. He got in it.
When he touched the leper, he didn’t worry about becoming unclean. He made him clean (). When he ate with sinners, he didn’t worry about their reputation. He restored theirs ().
Serving like Jesus means getting your hands dirty. It means not needing the environment to be perfect for you to be present.
It’s easy if your house is messy when the guests arrive. It’s fine if you don’t have all the answers. It’s acceptable if your serving looks a little lopsided.
God isn’t looking for perfection. He’s looking for availability.
"Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others, as faithful stewards of God’s grace in its various forms" ().
Notice he says "whatever gift." Not the perfect gift. Not the shiny, new gift. The one you have. The one that fits your hands.
A Season of Gratitude
This time of year, as the light changes and the air cools, feels like a good season for reflection. We’ve worked hard. We’ve planted seeds—some have grown, some haven’t. But the harvest is here.
Serving others isn’t about adding more to your plate. It’s about taking the time to sit at the table and really taste what’s in front of you.
It’s about looking up from your lists and seeing the face of Jesus in the person standing before you.
It’s about realizing that you don’t have to earn love by being useful. You just have to be there.
So, here’s my challenge for you this week. Don’t try to do more. Try to be with someone. Just one person. Really be with them. Listen. Look. Serve without keeping score.
And if you drop the ball? That’s fine. Jesus picked it up for you.
"For God so loved the world, that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life." ()
