Sermon delivered by Rob Powell at the North Hadley Congregational, United Church of Christ, September 2, 2019
Mother’s day offers the opportunity to celebrate and honor the mothers and motherly people in our lives, a time to reflect with gratitude on the ways that we have been mothered by our mothers and by others in our lives. And, a time to honor the ways that we mother ourselves and others. For some, Mother’s day brings with it sadness, the sadness of a mother lost or the sadness of a fraught relationship and history of hurt with a mother.
When I think about my mom and think about how to hone in on the essence of her mothering, I tend to gravitate towards a single topic- my curfew. Now, before I tell you all about this, let me be clear- I have a great mom. But, a certain truth about great moms is that to be a great mom you also, sometimes, have to be a pretty annoying mom. Boundaries and rules and expectations aren’t much fun in the short term, and so mothering and parenting, can at times not make a child very happy.
When I was in high school and driving, I had a curfew. It wasn’t a hard and fast time, but rather something that was negotiated based on the activity. But usually, it landed somewhere around 11:00. This is pretty standard for kids, but what always made my mom stand apart from the parent’s of my friends was her refusal to go to bed until I got home. So, if I was running late or intentionally trying to pull one over on my parents, I wouldn’t just get in trouble for missing my curfew but I’d also be saddled with the burden of making my weary mother stay awake until I returned. Now, this was really pretty effective. One or two times of looking my mom in her sleepy eyes after returning home late, left me committed to getting home on time.
Now this is all well and good when you’re a teenager, but imagine that you are a 28 year old, home for the holidays, and there’s not so much a curfew anymore, but your mom will still wait up for you to get home- it is essentially a curfew. As an adult, when I’d go home to visit I would know that my mom would stay awake until I returned and so I was always inclined to get home sooner than my friends. It’s in these later years that my mom’s commitment to waiting up really started driving me mad. I’d say “mom, go to bed! I’m fine” and she’d stay up each night that I was out, waiting for me to return.
It really drove me crazy.
But, there’s a thing that happens as you grow older and reflect on the quirks and annoyances of your parents. For the fortunate, those quirks and annoyances start to look more like building blocks of the person you became. For me, I think about what it meant to know someone was always waiting up for me. In what ways did that truth get woven into the person that I became? What would my life and myself look like if that wasn’t true? That I don’t really know- because it was true for me. If I was away, there was someone waiting on me. I was expected somewhere.
I can remember asking my mom- “mom, why do you do this? None of my friends have to deal with this.” And her response, a response heard by so many children so many times, was “well, they aren’t my kids”. How many of us have heard that at some point or another? At the root of it, that I was meant to adhere to the expectations of my parents, and it didn’t much matter what other people were doing.
In looking to our Psalm today, I’m struck in a new way by the language. Particularly the language of “he makes me lie down in green pastures”. I suppose it is reflecting today on mothers and mothering, but I got a little bit of a chuckle out of that language because it sounds a lot like what we do with our little one and what was done with me when I was a little one. You see, our son doesn’t always totally understand that he is tired. He feels something- frantic, upset, irritable- but he’s not really aware of the solution. But, Chris and I are, oh boy are we. We know that that little baby needs a nap and so...we make him lie down. We make him rest. He doesn’t always like it, but we know that he needs it. We know when he is thirsty and so we make sure he drinks his milk. We know when he is scared so we make sure he feels comfort. I think this looks a lot like the way I was mothered, the way many of us were, and the way many want to be. A firm hand leading us and even making us rest, eat, and feel peace. Maybe sometimes when we don’t necessarily know that’s what we need or what we want.
And as a Christian people, we are called to listen to God in the same way that a child is called to listen to their parent. We are given guidance, some wanted some not, and asked to heed it with the belief that it is in our best interest. We see this play out a bit in our reading from John.
I have to be honest, I struggled with this reading. In this world we live in, full or polarization and us vs them mentalities, I cringed when I read it, wanting little do with anything that creates a who’s in and who’s out kind of framework. But, in the light of mother’s day and with my own reflections, I started to think about this in a different way.
I think about that common refrain of parenting, when I would do something I wasn’t supposed to and then I’d say “but so-and-so did it!” and my mom or dad would says “but i told YOU not to do it”. It’s not often a judgement on the other kid, it’s a judgement on me for not listening.
It seems like when we started talking about us and them a lot of the focus ends up on the “them”. What are they doing? How are they wrong? But in reading this scripture today something new stands out, not the question of who doesn’t hear but rather a call to those who do hear. We are the people God is talking to, we needn’t waste time figuring out who God isn’t talking to, but rather think about what it means that God is talking to us, God is calling us, God is promising us. What do we do with that. My mom never much cared what the other kids were doing, she cared about what I was doing. I think it is similar for the church.
I think a perfect place to start on this Mother’s day is to consider how we are mothered as children of God and how we mother a hurting world. As we are made to lay down to rest, how do we offer rest to a weary people? As we are made to eat, how do we offer food to the hungry? As we are given peace and comfort, how do we extend peace and comfort in moments of fear and sorrow?
For God is talking to us, it is us who are expected to do the work of God here and now, may we be so bold as to heed that call.
In thinking about my mom waiting up for me all those nights for all those years, I’m now touched by it. Let’s be clear, if I was visiting right now and she was waiting up for me to come home, I’d also be annoyed. But, in the big scheme of life, I’m grateful to have lived a life where there was always a light on for me. Sometimes, I look at our child and I feel such deep gratitude that he too will always have a light left on for him (in his case, it might be a metaphorical light because Chris and both like to sleep- but a light nonetheless).
Every Sunday we are all here and in that I believe that we are answering that call- we are coming home to a place where the light has been left on for us, but also in being here, week after week, year after year, we are leaving a light on for all the people ready to come home. As God keeps a light on for us, we respond by keeping a light on for a hurting and weary world. In that way we are mothered and mothering as the children of God. May it always be so. Amen.