What Will You Regret When You Die?

An AI-Assisted Homily on Overwork, Jesus, and Choosing the Better Part

Readings for 16th Sunday in Ordinary Time: Genesis 18:1-10a; Psalm 15: 2-5; Colossians 1:24-28; Luke 10: 38-42


Facing the Final Question

What will you regret most when you’re dying?

Chances are, like most people, it won’t be that you didn’t work hard enough. Instead, you’ll wish you’d spent more time with your loved ones—more dinners with friends, more laughter, more life.

“Every male patient I nursed said the same thing: they missed their children’s youth and their partner’s companionship.”
Hospice Nurse

Women often expressed the same sorrow, though many—especially from older generations—hadn’t been the household breadwinners. Still, the verdict was nearly universal: we’ve built lives around the treadmill of work, and at the end, that’s what we mourn.


A Culture Addicted to Work

Let’s be honest: our culture worships overwork.

Especially in the United States, where the average worker puts in three more hours per week than their European counterparts. That’s nearly a month more labor every year.

And when it comes to vacation time? The average American takes less than six weeks off per year. The French take nearly twelve. Swedes? Over sixteen.

Into this burnout culture comes today’s Gospel reading from Luke—a bracing call to step back and reconsider our priorities. A reminder that Jesus, too, challenged the grind.


Jesus, the Counter-Cultural Radical

We often forget just how radical Jesus was.

Deepak Chopra, in The Third Jesus, reminds us that Christ actually instructed his followers not to worry about money, food, or the future.

“Do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear.”
— Jesus (Matthew 6:25)

And today’s Responsorial Psalm adds more layers. The “Just Person” is praised for refusing to lie, slander, or take bribes. That all sounds virtuous—nothing shocking there.

But then comes the line:

“They lend not money at usury.”

Wait—what? Lending at interest is considered robbery in the Bible. Imagine if Christians and Jews actually followed that commandment. Our entire debt-driven economy would have to be reimagined.


Rethinking Martha and Mary

Now let’s talk about Mary and Martha.

Most traditional sermons interpret the story spiritually: Martha represents worldly busyness, while Mary models a quiet, contemplative life devoted to prayer.

But that interpretation misses the human, grounded context of the Gospel.

In Un Tal Jesús (“A Certain Jesus”) by María and José Ignacio López Vigil—a powerful retelling of the Gospels popular across Latin America—Jesus is portrayed as joyful, deeply human, and radically present.

In their version, this story doesn’t take place in a quiet house, but in a noisy Bethany tavern run by Lazarus, with Martha and Mary hustling behind the scenes. Passover pilgrims are crowding in. It’s hot, chaotic, and full of life.

Martha is working furiously. Mary? She’s seated beside Jesus—laughing.


Jesus Tells Riddles

Jesus: “What’s as small as a mouse but guards a house like a lion?”
Mary: “A key! I guessed it!”

Jesus: “It’s as small as a nut, has no feet, but climbs mountains.”
Mary: “A snail!”

Jesus: “Okay, one more. It has no bones, is never quiet, and is sharper than scissors.”
Mary: “Hmm… I don’t know.”
Jesus: “Your tongue, Mary. It never rests!”

They’re cracking jokes, swapping riddles, enjoying one another.
Not praying. Not planning. Not “producing.” Just being.

Martha, frustrated and overworked, finally bursts out:
“Jesus, tell my sister to help me!”

And he answers gently but firmly:
“Mary has chosen the better part.”


Jesus and the Sacredness of Play

That might sound scandalous to us—Jesus dismissing work?

But it’s entirely consistent with his teachings. Jesus valued community over productivity, joy over profit, presence over anxiety.

And that should make us pause.

What if we took that seriously?

What if we reorganized our lives—and our economy—around the idea that play, rest, joy, and social connection are sacred?

What if we voted for leaders who supported:

  • Shorter workweeks
  • Guaranteed time off
  • Universal income
  • Job sharing
  • A culture centered around well-being instead of output?

In the End, What Really Matters?

Because when we reach the end, we won’t say:

“I wish I’d worked more overtime.”
“I should’ve answered more emails.”
“I’m glad I missed those birthday dinners.”

We’ll long for the laughter we didn’t share, the walks we skipped, the stories we never heard, the moments we missed with the people we loved most.


So, What Will You Choose?

Mary or Martha?

Work or presence?

Breadth of life or depth of joy?

“Mary has chosen the better part.”

We can too.

Let’s not wait until the deathbed to realize it.

Forget Martha; Be Like Lazy Mary and Jester Jesus (Sunday Homily)

un tal

Readings for the 16th Sunday in Ordinary Time: Gn. 18: 1-10A; Ps. 15: 2-5; Col. 1: 24-28; Lk. 10: 38-42.

What do you think you’ll regret most as you lay dying? If you’re like most, it will be that you spent too much time at your day job – too much time working and not enough time socializing and enjoying life. Study after study affirms that.

Commenting on this regret, one Hospice nurse said:

“This came from every male patient that I nursed. They missed their children’s youth and their partner’s companionship. Women also spoke of this regret, but as most were from an older generation, many of the female patients had not been breadwinners. All of the men I nursed deeply regretted spending so much of their lives on the treadmill of a work existence.”

I’ll bet almost everyone reading this can relate to those words and would like to avoid final regrets about overwork.

Problem is: our culture sets overwork as an ideal. In fact, we’re taught to prize overwork. This is especially true of “American” culture where unlike our European counterparts, we spend an average of three hours per week more on the job. That adds up to something like a month more of work each year than our Europeans sisters and brothers. Most important, Americans take fewer (and shorter) vacations. The average American takes off less than six weeks a year; the average Frenchman almost 12. Swedes take the longest vacations – 16 ½ weeks per year.

Today’s gospel reading from Luke urges us to correct our tendency to overwork before it’s too late. In doing so, it directs our attention to the counter-cultural nature of Jesus’ teachings.

Yes, Jesus was extremely counter-cultural. We shouldn’t forget that. As Deepak Choprapoints out (in his The Third Jesus), the Sermon on the Mount, which captures the essence of Jesus’ wisdom, has him explicitly telling his disciples not to earn a living, save money, plan ahead or worry about the future. Of course, most of us don’t listen to Jesus when he says things like that.

And did you notice the description of the “Just Person” in today’s responsorial psalm? Man or woman, they harm no one, do not slander, speak ill of no one, and refuse to accept bribes. All of that raises no eyebrow. We yawn: none of that seems particularly counter-cultural.

But how about, “They lend not money at usury?” What about that? Yes, lending at interest is considered robbery and is forbidden in the Bible. (What if all Christians (and Jews) kept that commandment? Our world with its economy based on credit and interest, would be entirely different.)
The world would also be different – our lives would not be the same – if we acted like Mary instead of Martha.

The misdirection of traditional sermons obscures that possibility. Customarily homilists understand the story of Martha and Mary in a strictly spiritual sense. Their commentaries use the two sisters to compare the active and the contemplative lives – as though poor Martha stood for lay people having to wait on others with no time for prayer like the more otherworldly Mary. Martha’s sister “choses the better part” like a contemplative “religious” eschewing “the world of work” and spending their time pondering the spiritual teachings of Jesus and living a life rapt in prayer and contemplation.

I used to think that too – until I read Un Tal Jesus (“A Certain Jesus”) written by Maria Lopez Vigil and her brother, Jose Ignacio. (The book has been translated into English under the title Just Jesus.) The authors are Cuban and now live in Nicaragua. Maria is a former nun; Jose Ignacio, a former priest.

Together the Lopez-Vigils created a series of radio programs broadcast all over Latin America. The shows dramatized the four gospels and presented a very human Jesus – the one who emerges from recent scholarship on the historical Jesus.

In Un Tal Jesus, Jesus is black, has a winning smile, and a very down-to-earth sense of humor. (The photo at the top of this blog entry shows Jesus as depicted in the Lopez-Vigil’s book.) The human Jesus portrayed in that radio series scandalized many and inspired even more throughout the Latin world and beyond.

As the Lopez-Vigils envision it, today’s episode takes place in a Bethany tavern owned by Lazarus, the brother of Martha and Mary. It’s a place of eating, drinking and lodging for travelers. It’s a place of laughter, joking, over-eating and drunkenness. And Jesus is right there in the middle of it all.

Passover is approaching, and the inn is full of pilgrims. It’s steamy, noisy, and loud. Martha is on the job, waiting on tables and controlling the rest of the staff. Meanwhile Mary (whom scholars increasingly identify with Mary Magdalene, Jesus closest female companion) is distracted by conversation with Jesus, who is bantering with his friends.

And what are they talking about? Religion? God? Spirituality? No, they’re joking. Jesus is posing riddle after riddle. And Mary finds it completely entertaining. In part, their dialog goes like this:

Jesus: What’s as small as a mouse but it guards the house like a lion. One, two, three: Guess what it is!
Mary: Small as a rat…and…it’s a key! I guessed it, I guessed it!
Jesus: Listen to this one: It’s as small as a nut, has no feet but can climb a mountain.
Mary: Wait… a nut going up the mountain…a snail!…Ha, ha, ha, tell me another one!
Jesus: You won’t guess this one right. Listen well: It has no bones, it is never quiet, with edges sharper than scissors.
Mary: It has no bones… I don’t know…
Jesus: It’s your tongue, Mary, which never rests!

Well, Mary and Jesus might have found that sort of patter entertaining, but Martha did not. She’s in charge of the inn and is worried about her guests waiting impatiently for their food while bread is burning in the oven. So she makes her complaint to Jesus: “Stop your chatter and let my sister do her job!” It’s then that Jesus makes that remark about Mary’s choosing the better part. She’s chosen socializing and play over work.

Does that scandalize you – Jesus distancing himself from work? Well, it seems completely consistent with what I said about Jesus earlier. It coincides with his general approach to work, money, profit, saving, and anxiety about the future.

What difference would it make in our own lives if we accepted that message: socializing, community, and fun are more important than work? What difference would it make in our culture if, in a context of widespread unemployment we elected candidates advocating “spreading the work around,” spreading the money around, shortening the work week, and affording us more time with friends and family, eating, drinking, joking, and playing?

What difference would it make to us on our death beds?

What do you think?