Luke 10:38-42
I recently received some advice from a concerned friend, and I quote: “Jarrett, as a pastor you’d be better off to just preach the gospel and stay out of politics. Just stay in your lane.”
And as you are probably aware, I am not the only preacher who has been told this.
Following the murder of George Floyd in 2020, when preachers spoke the names of Breonna Taylor, Tyre Nichols, or Sandra Bland from their pulpits, or when they dared to say out loud, “Black Lives Matter,” many congregants responded with discomfort or outright anger, telling pastors they were being “too divisive,” and yes, “too political.”
Translation: Stay in your lane.
Churches that have offered physical sanctuary to undocumented immigrants have been surveilled, threatened with fines, and reported to ICE. The pastor of a Colorado church that sheltered a mother facing deportation was investigated for “harboring a fugitive.”
Translation: Stay in your lane.
When churches in Georgia, Florida, and North Carolina organized voter registration drives, especially in Black and poor communities, they were accused of violating the Johnson Amendment by “engaging in politics.” In 2022, a church in Georgia was investigated for “election interference” after encouraging people to vote for candidates who support Medicaid expansion without endorsing a particular candidate.
Translation: Stay in your lane.
And now, pastors, rabbis, and imams who dare to speak out against the ethnic cleansing in Gaza, who mourn the loss of innocent life and demand a ceasefire and humanitarian aid, are accused of being antisemitic, unpatriotic, or “on the wrong side of history.” All because they had the audacity to declare that every life is sacred.
Translation: Stay in your lane.
In all these cases, the message is clear:
“You can pray for peace in the Middle East, but don’t protest the genocide of Palestinians by Israel and the United States.”
“You can preach salvation, but not liberation.”
“You can feed the hungry, but you can’t ask why they’re hungry in the first place.”
“You can convict souls, but you can’t challenge systems.”
“You can bury the dead, but you shouldn’t question what’s killing them.”
Preacher, your lane is in the sanctuary, not in the public square. And you need to stay in your lane.
Have a bake sale for the underprivileged but keep quiet about the greed of the privileged. Pray for the sick, but don’t talk about a deadly bill that takes away Medicaid from millions. Stock a food pantry, but don’t talk about the government taking away SNAP benefits. Give to charities but don’t ever mention the need to raise the minimum wage. Talk about loving your neighbor, but don’t use the words like “racism” or “white supremacy.” Have programs to support teenagers, but don’t defend trans youth. Just stay in your lane pastor and preach Jesus.
But here’s the thing they don’t seem to understand; the Jesus we preach never stayed in his lane. Yes, he set tables that fed hungry people, but he also flipped tables that fed greedy people. He healed sick bodies, but he also called out sick systems. Jesus worshipped on the sabbath, but he also broke the laws of the sabbath. He continually switched lanes to be on the side of the forgotten, the suffering and the lost.
And today, our gospel lesson invites us to not only leave the lane they want us to stay in, but to reject that lane as a lie. It encourages us not to shrink our witness today, but to expand it. To sit like Mary, in those places they said we are not allowed.
Now, to 21st century ears, this story may sound like a simple story of sibling rivalry, of two sisters in a little family feud about who’s working hard and who’s hardly working.
But when we put this story in the context of first-century Palestine, we understand that it’s really a story about what happens when one refuses to be confined to the lane they have been assigned by the culture.
Martha was doing exactly what society expected of her. She was in her lane, in the kitchen, preparing to serve her male guest, a young Rabbi named Jesus.
And Mary?
Mary was in the living room audaciously sitting down at the feet of this Rabbi to listen to what he had to say. I say “audaciously” because only disciples were permitted to sit at the feet of a Jewish Rabbi. And disciples were always, without exception, male.
Thus, in sitting down at the feet of Jesus, Mary demonstrated a refusal to stay in the lane society had given her. She made it her business where they said she had no business. She challenged the status quo in a society that wanted her quiet and invisible, or busy and distracted in the kitchen.
And Jesus?
He doesn’t correct her. He doesn’t scold her. And he doesn’t just defend her. Jesus applauds her. Jesus not only allows it, he affirms it, saying: “Mary has chosen the better part, and it will not be taken from her.”
Jesus saw the system. He knew the expectations. He understood that Mary was way out of line. And still, he said: “This is what discipleship looks like.” Mary found God’s holy purpose not by staying in line, but by stepping out of line.
And so does the church. Throughout history, the Church has always been at its best when it refuses to be silent, when it organizes, protests, speaks truth, and shows up, when the Church understands that it is not called to a civic club to just manage injustice with thoughts, prayers, and charity. But called to be a holy movement interrupting injustice by getting into some good trouble.
The Church has always been more aligned with who God has called it to be when we get out of line and, yes, are criticized for being too political.
Such criticism only affirms we’re aligned with a gospel that is inherently political, because it’s good news for the poor, it’s freedom for the oppressed, and it’s justice for the left out and left behind.
There’s nothing partisan about the gospel we proclaim. It’s not owned by any political party. It belongs to the poor. It belongs to the marginalized. It belongs to the sick, to the disabled, to the oppressed, to the most vulnerable among us.
I know things are bad in the world right now. But think of how much worse things would be if the peace-makers and the justice-seekers of our history stayed in their lane— if Frederick Douglas and Sojourner Truth obeyed their slave masters, if Harriet Tubman didn’t go underground, if Fannie Lou Hamer never publicly proclaimed she was “sick and tired of being sick and tired!” Where would this country be today if Martin Luther King Jr. only preached about Jesus inside the four walls of his church, or if Rosa Parks got up and moved to the back of that bus, or if Joseph McNeil, Franklin McCain, Ezell Blair Jr., and David Richmond never sat down at a Woolworth lunch counter in Greensboro, North Carolina, or if Rev. David and Kaye Edwards, pastors of the First Christian Church in the Lynchburg, Virginia stopped talking about the church’s to be Open and Affirming in the 1990’s when some of the members told them they were out of line?
But thank God they each understood that being disciples of Jesus in a world misaligned with will of God, meant they were called step out of line. And when they were criticized for stepping into the wrong lane, they rose up and they said: “No, I’m in my lane, for my lane is unconditional love, my lane is mercy, my lane is justice, my lane is emancipation and liberation, my lane is equality and solidarity, because my lane is Jesus, the one who never stayed in any of the lanes the empire gave him!”
Thank God they each understood that Mary chose the better part by sitting down in a place the religious culture did not want her to sit, choosing truth over tradition, choosing the lane Jesus called her into over the one the patriarchy assigned her to. And Jesus says, “It will not be taken from her.”
So church, we’ve got a choice today.
Do we stand in the lane that will make the privileged more comfortable? Or do we sit down in holy protest and say: “We’re choosing the better part and nobody’s going to take that away from us!”
We’re boldly choosing to preach God’s Truth when the world tells us to be quiet. We’re audaciously choosing to leave the sanctuary to show up in in city halls, on protest lines, at silent vigils, detention centers, homeless shelters, and school board meetings. We’re courageously choosing the gospel of Jesus over the comfort of religious respectability. We’re fearlessly choosing to get in some “good, necessary trouble.”
We’re choosing to follow Jesus—not the version wrapped in stars and stripes—but the one who broke bread with the outcasts and flipped the tables of those who were part of an unholy alliance of greed, religion, and nationalism.
So, let them say we need to stay in our lane.
Let them say we’re too political.
Let them say we’re too bold, too loud, too much.
Because I’d rather be too much for fascism than too little for Jesus!
Mary chose the better part. And so must we. And Jesus says: It will not be taken from us.
It’s sad to me that the ones who want to take it from us also claim to follow Jesus. So, when they tell us to stay in our lane, we need to remind them that Jesus never stayed in his lane.
Jesus left heaven to walk with the poor.
He healed on the Sabbath.
He touched the untouchable.
He offered belonging to outcasts.
He fed the hungry without a permit.
He provided healthcare without a copay.
He overturned tables in the temple of injustice.
And if Jesus didn’t stay in his lane, as followers of Jesus, neither can we.
So, when they tell you that politics isn’t any of the church’s business—
You remind them that the prophets spoke truth to the kings.
That Moses stood in Pharaoh’s face.
That Esther interrupted the empire.
That Mary sang a song so radical, it brought down the mighty from their thrones.
When they try to tame your gospel, shrink your God, or soften your truth,
You lift your voice like a trumpet!
You say, “We were not baptized in front of all those people just to keep our faith in the closet!”
We were not called by Jesus to conform to the culture.
And we were not filled with the Holy Spirit so we could keep privileged folks comfortable.
So, Church let’s go and cross a line for love!
Run out of bounds into some good trouble for justice!
Refuse the script. Interrupt business as usual!
Feed the hungry, welcome the stranger, and tear up the blueprint of empire!
Walk, stand, and sit with the audacity of Mary!
Because when we’re out of line, when they’re begging us to stay in our lane, we are most aligned with our Holy purpose!
Amen.
Just Love 