When the Sunday Scaries Meet the Gospel: Meeting God in the Overwhelm
Photo by Sinitta Leunen on Unsplash
There’s a strange contagion spreading across our culture, and odds are, you’ve experienced it. It begins mid-afternoon on Sunday, or sometimes earlier. The symptoms include worry and irritability, a racing mind. In some cases, it’s accompanied by frantic household cleaning, calendar checking, and glances at email.
It’s called the Sunday Scaries—the creeping dread that arrives as the weekend slips away and the responsibilities of the new week inch closer. A 2023 LinkedIn survey found that 75% of Americans report experiencing the Sunday Scaries. This is not just an issue for those who work a 9-5 job; even those who are retired or don’t work outside the home report feeling the pull of unfinished tasks, unanswered communications, unpaid bills, and unfulfilled obligations. These feelings aren’t just cultural noise. They reflect something deeper: our desire to be in control of our lives, to meet expectations, and to stay ahead of what’s next. But into this anxious reality, the Gospel speaks a quiet and disruptive word of grace.
They reflect something deeper: our desire to be in control of our lives, to meet expectations, and to stay ahead of what’s next. But into this anxious reality, the Gospel speaks a quiet and disruptive word of grace.
A Gospel for the Overwhelmed
I recently found myself drawn to the lectionary Gospel from Luke 10:38–42, the story of Mary and Martha. It’s a familiar reading, one that may also be one of the shortest readings we encounter in the lectionary. But don’t be fooled by brevity. The story of Mary and Martha resonates with surprising strength. In just five verses, we meet two sisters—Martha and Mary—who welcome Jesus into their home. While Mary sits at Jesus’ feet and listens, Martha rushes around, distracted by “many tasks.” When she finally bursts with frustration and asks Jesus to tell Mary to help, he responds gently:
“Martha, Martha, you are worried and distracted by many things; there is need of only one thing. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken away from her.”
You probably know the story. You have probably also heard the conventional interpretation. Often this story is read as a critique of busyness. We’re told to be more like Mary: contemplative, present, spiritually attuned. There’s wisdom there, but we shouldn’t be so quick to vilify Martha. After all, she’s the one who welcomed Jesus in the first place. Her tasks weren’t selfish; they were rooted in hospitality. She is, of course, the one who invites the Lord into her home in the first place! Far from being vilified, Martha ought to be celebrated as a model of faith in a hectic world. In Martha’s fractured attention, we see a recognizable and ancient expression of what we now call the Sunday Scaries: the pressure to do it all, to get it right, to manage all the things—and the familiar fear that we’re falling short.
How Tech Shapes Our Anxiety
The Sunday Scaries have only intensified in our digital age. Technology has eroded the boundaries between work and rest, between Sabbath and schedule. For many of us, Sunday is no longer a day set apart. It’s the new Monday—a day to get ahead, catch up, or mentally rehearse the coming week. A recent poll shows that 60–70% of Americans check work email on Sundays, and 30% check it throughout the day. The devices in our pockets whisper reminders of tasks left undone and deadlines yet to come. Social media adds to the pressure, as we scroll through curated images of others’ seemingly effortless lives, comparing our cluttered homes and anxious minds to their pristine highlights.
In this tech-shaped culture, attention has become a scarce resource. Constant connectivity teaches us to react rather than rest, to complete, rather than to contemplate. But in Luke 10, Jesus honors Mary precisely for her attention. Not her productivity. Not her polish. Just her quiet, focused presence. The contrast is clear: the world demands constant motion; Jesus invites stillness. The world values the visible hustle; Jesus sees the heart that listens. The world encourages us to check out of the moment and check into our inboxes. Jesus calls us back to the only thing needed.
The world values the visible hustle; Jesus sees the heart that listens. The world encourages us to check out of the moment and check into our inboxes. Jesus calls us back to the only thing needed.
God in the Ordinary
Now, notice that Jesus doesn’t rebuke Martha for being active; he names her anxiety. And in doing so, he names ours too. He shows up not in a temple or synagogue, but in an ordinary house, with ordinary people who have too much to do. He comes into a space where things aren’t finished, where the floor may still need sweeping and the meal isn’t ready. This is profoundly good news. It means we don’t need to perfect our lives before we welcome God in. The grace of Jesus doesn’t wait for inbox zero or a tidy living room. It meets us in the overwhelm.
Episcopal priest and writer Tish Harrison Warren puts it this way in Liturgy of the Ordinary:
“If I am to spend my whole life being transformed by the good news of Jesus, I must learn how grand, sweeping truths – doctrine, theology, ecclesiology, Christology – rub against the texture of an average day. How I spend this ordinary day in Christ is how I will spend my Christian life.”
The story of Mary and Martha reminds us that God’s presence is not reserved for the sanctuary or the spiritual retreat. It’s also found in laundry piles and lunch packing, in missed calls and mental clutter. Even in moments of anxiety—especially in those moments—Jesus is near.
The Better Part
Statistically speaking, you’ve likely thought about or even checked your email since you started reading this post. Don’t worry, I don’t hold it against you. Those Sunday Scaries are persistent. God is with you nonetheless. Some of you are thinking about the lawn that needs mowing or the oil that needs changing or the laundry that needs folding. I don't blame you. Those sentiments are everywhere. Jesus claims you nonetheless. But the best news of all is that no matter how much you accomplish today or through the week, you remain a beloved child of God. And as Jesus tells Martha, that won’t be taken away from you. So yes, the Sunday Scaries are real. But so is God’s grace. In our moments of overwhelm, there may be fears to face, but there are even more blessings to count in this ordinary, grace-filled life.
