Have you ever felt overlooked while watching others succeed? You’re not alone—and you’re in good biblical company.

The Legend You Never Heard in Sunday School

There’s a medieval story that might surprise you. After Jesus’ resurrection and ascension, tradition tells us that Martha and Mary—yes, that Martha and Mary from Luke’s gospel—traveled together as missionaries. But their ministries looked radically different.

Mary founded a monastery deep in the wilderness, creating a sacred space for prayer and contemplation. Martha? She ended up in southern France, in a small town terrorized by a dragon. And according to legend, she didn’t just preach about faith—she put it into action and tamed the beast.

Whether you believe Martha literally fought dragons isn’t the point. The legend reveals something profound: both Martha’s active service and Mary’s contemplative stillness were valid paths of discipleship. Both made room for Jesus in the world.

When Ancient Dragons Meet Modern Parking Lots

A pastor friend recently shared a story that brought this legend to life. Standing in the St. Andrew’s Presbyterian Church parking lot, he watched families pour out after their community dinner—90 people laughing, connecting, thriving under his friend Julia’s gifted leadership.

Just two years earlier, he had regularly served this same community when they had no priest, ministering to 40 faithful souls. Now Julia was leading a renaissance while his own Lutheran congregation struggled with an aging membership and dwindling numbers.

As he drove past their cemetery toward his own church’s weathered steeple, a familiar whisper echoed in his mind: “Lord, don’t you care? I’ve poured twelve years into this soil! Why does their field flourish while ours feels bare?”

In that moment, my friend met Martha’s dragon—the same beast that had been prowling around kitchens and hearts for centuries.

The Dragon of Comparison

Listen to Martha’s original complaint in Luke 10: “Lord, don’t you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!”

Sound familiar? It’s the identical cry my pastor friend whispered in that parking lot. The dragon of comparison breathes the same fire today that it did 2,000 years ago:

• Why them and not me?
• Doesn’t God see my faithful work?
• Am I invisible while others get the spotlight?

This dragon convinces us our service is unseen, unvalued, unfair. But here’s the gospel truth: Jesus doesn’t scold Martha’s service—he slays her dragon.

The Gentle Art of Dragon-Slaying

“Martha, Martha,” Jesus responds—tender as a parent waking a child from a nightmare—“you are worried about many things. But only one thing is needed.”

Notice what Jesus doesn’t say. He doesn’t declare Mary superior or dismiss Martha’s work as meaningless. Instead, he offers something revolutionary: a way to serve without being devoured by distraction.

Martha isn’t being scolded for serving; she’s being freed from the anxiety that’s consuming her ability to be present. She’s so busy preparing the meal that she can’t enjoy it—or the guest she’s preparing it for.

That medieval Martha who later faced an actual dragon? She could only slay that beast because Jesus first slew the one in her kitchen.

Three Ways to Fight Modern Dragons

1. Bless Your Mary

When Martha finally left that kitchen free of comparison, she didn’t resent Mary’s stillness—she made space for it. The same woman who once snapped, “Tell her to help me!” later championed her sister’s calling to prayer.

Your challenge: When someone’s life looks lighter than yours, try saying, “God, thank you for their joy.” When comparison hisses, pray: “God, bless their calling and secure mine.”

2. Own Your Martha

Jesus wasn’t dismissing Martha’s work when he spoke of “one thing”—he was sanctifying it. He was saying: “Your service becomes holy when it flows from me instead of comparison.”

That Lutheran church with the aging steeple? Their endurance is their superpower. They show up when the world calls them irrelevant. They hold space for grieving neighbors when flashy programs move on. They embody the church that outlasts trends because it’s rooted in Christ.

Churches like St. Andrew’s may have the energy of Mary’s ‘sitting,’ but others embody Martha’s ‘I’ll keep the feast going.’ Both are needed.

3. Wield the “One Thing” Daily

Martha’s French dragon didn’t fall with a single blow—she fought it daily. We should too.

Try asking yourself each morning: “Jesus, what’s my one thing today?”

• If you’re Martha-hearted, follow up with: “Is this for you or my ego?”
• If you’re Mary-natured, ask: “Does my stillness bless or judge?”
• If neither fits: “Will I get lost in their field, or tend my own holy ground?”

This daily practice cuts through distractions and transforms ordinary work into meaningful service.

Both/And, Not Either/Or

Here’s the beautiful truth: you don’t have to choose between being Martha or Mary. You get to be both. You get to serve and sit, work and worship, fight dragons and find stillness.

Martha never stopped serving after Jesus spoke those words to her—she just learned to serve from a different place. Not from comparison or anxiety, but from love. And Mary didn’t stay seated forever; tradition says she preached boldly alongside her sister.

The medieval legend got something right: both sisters became dragon-slayers. Both learned that faithfulness isn’t about perfection—it’s about presence.

Your Holy Ground

When that ancient dragon whispers its familiar lie—“Lord, don’t you care?”—you’ll have your answer ready:

“Yes, he does. He cares and loves me so much that he gave me exactly what I need for this moment, this work, this holy ground where I stand.”

My pastor friend still serves that Lutheran church with the weathered steeple. But now he knows what Martha learned in that French village: dragons fall not when we fight them with comparison, but when we face them with undivided attention to Jesus.

And that’s enough. That’s always been enough.

This post is adapted from a sermon I preached on July 20, 2025. While I’ve expanded some thoughts for this format, the core message remains the same as what was shared from the pulpit.