November 28, 2025 // Columns

Chores for the Kingdom

Ken Hallenius

There is a clear division of labor at my house. I’m not entirely sure exactly when my bride and I first assigned these spheres of responsibility, but over the last 18 years, we have fallen into a comfortable chore routine. My primary role is to run the kitchen and facilitate all our eating and drinking. That includes grocery shopping, cooking the meals, and washing the dishes. Fortunately, these are tasks I enjoy. I like wandering around the grocery store, searching for deals, and comparing prices, while thinking about how tasty a particular ingredient will be when prepared.

I like experimenting in the kitchen. I read a lot of food blogs and newspaper cooking columns, and I enjoy watching the occasional episode of “Good Eats” or “Iron Chef,” discovering new ways to smoke, braise, sauté, and sous vide. And even if a new-to-me recipe didn’t turn out as good as I had hoped, at least I probably learned something in the process, and can console myself with the thought that tomorrow’s another day, which will bring three more meals to erase the memory of my epic cooking failure. I haven’t poisoned us yet, and I hope this streak continues.

Chores and household routines don’t get a lot of attention in the sacred Scriptures. In Genesis Chapter 2, God tells Adam that he is to “cultivate and care for” the Garden of Eden, thereby assigning humankind the responsibility to maintain and keep proper order in His creation. Theologians such as St. John Paul II read this passage as also highlighting the dignity of work by faithfully fulfilling our daily tasks we cooperate with God’s plan and serve in charity those with whom we live. This is especially true in a household, as we perform our chores in service to our family members out of love. My little domestic community is strengthened every time I unload the dishwasher, especially if I do it without to be reminded!

In the Gospel of Luke, Jesus tells a parable about a woman who loses a coin, sweeps the house to find it, and then invites her friends to rejoice over her good fortune in recovering what was lost (Lk 15:8–10). I sometimes wonder how much it cost the woman to throw a party over that found coin, whether it was a financially prudent move – after all, the party probably cost more than the coin was worth. But as is usually true when I attempt to interpret the Scriptures on my own, that’s not the real point of the parable.

Jesus’ visit to the home of Martha and Mary, also told in the Gospel of Luke, is perhaps the most prominent New Testament appearance of household chores. While Mary sits at the foot of the visiting Jesus, attentively listening to His teaching, her sister, Martha, is scurrying about, cleaning and preparing the meal for Jesus and His disciples. When Martha complains that Mary is leaving her to do all the work by herself, Jesus tells her, “Martha, you are worried and upset about many things, but Mary has chosen the better part” (Lk 10:38-42).

What are we to take from this story? Is Jesus saying chores don’t matter, that the work of showing hospitality is not important? I don’t think that’s what the Lord was trying to say to Martha at all. He was really talking about her interior disposition and encouraging her to not let the worries of daily life get in the way of her relationship with God – the very God who was standing right before her.

As I wash the dishes and wipe down the kitchen countertops each evening, I certainly would rather be sitting down in a comfy chair and reading the Bible or even the parish bulletin. But my chores have to be done, lest the dishes pile up and the counters get grimy. However, taking a cue from what Jesus told Martha, while my hands are occupied with menial tasks, I can be present to God. I can pray, whether spontaneously or by reciting the prayers I have memorized, such as the Our Father or Hail Mary. I can listen to edifying music (the Hillbilly Thomists, a bluegrass band formed of talented Dominican friars, are a favorite of mine), or perhaps to an audiobook version of the Bible, or a podcast that teaches me something about my Catholic faith. In these and countless other ways, I can sit and listen, even virtually, at the foot of Jesus even while I keep an eye on the roast in the oven and the pot on the stovetop.

As we come to the Advent season, which is the beginning of the Church’s liturgical year, it’s the perfect time to make a “new (liturgical) year’s resolution,” even if the rest of the world will wait until January 1 to do the same. How will you, in this new Year of Grace 2026, commit to deepening your relationship with Jesus Christ and with your fellow brothers and sisters in Christ? How will you choose the better part?

Sts. Martha and Mary, pray for us!