mothering Sunday

A short address for the 8:00am communion service

Today, the fourth Sunday in Lent, throughout the world wide Church, has long been a time for a break from the rigours of fasting and doing without, which should accompany our own Lenten journey, and an opportunity to celebrate.  We call it Mothering Sunday, it’s also known as Refreshment Sunday, Mid-Lent Sunday and in more traditional churches, Laetare Sunday, a medieval term which referred to the Introit at the beginning of the Mass, which included the words, ‘Rejoice ye with Jerusalem’, which was an excuse to make merry half way through Lent. 

We should remember, in those days Lent was taken very seriously, and everyone observed the fasting which the Church required as a period of personal reflection on their sins, which hopefully would lead to repentance and a new life in Christ. And so we see the contrast between Shrove Tuesday or as it was also known, fat Tuesday, when all fats and unnecessary foods were eaten to clear the house ready to start the Lenten fast and Refreshment Sunday which allowed people to break the Lenten fast, just for one day. Traditionally on this day, worshippers would remember two things – For those close enough, they would make a pilgrimage to their local Cathedral as the mother church of the diocese, from which their own parish was a growing child. And they would visit their own mother and take flowers and a small gift.  This was particularly important when so many young men and women were in service in big houses, or on large estates, and they would be given this day off to go home to see their mothers.  The girls in service would make their mothers a simnel cake, and gather wild flowers as they walked home.

So those are the traditional origins of Mothering Sunday.  An opportunity to reflect, celebrate and give thanks to the different ‘mothers’ in our lives, especially our human mothers. Mother’s Day, which is really an American add on to all this, has commercialised the whole thing, rather in the way we now celebrate Christmas more as a secular festival of excess, than as an important Christian festival.  So now flowers for our mothers cost about four times as much for today, than they will do tomorrow.  But the sentiment is the same. All of these facets of the day give cause for celebration, for the kindness and tenderness we received in the past, and continue to receive, as we remember the sacrifices our own mother’s, and those who have acted like mother’s to us, have made for us, and the anticipation of future joy, kindness and pleasure we hope to experience with them, and in remembrance of them.

But today is also a day to acknowledge the pain, rejection  and hurt some people feel.  To remember that not everyone’s experience of motherhood is celebratory, nor every child’s remembrance is one of joy.  And we see that pain in Paul’s Second Letter to the Corinthians, which tells us of God’s love for us by consoling our afflictions, or perhaps a better translation would be by comforting us in the many afflictions that hurt us, bruise us, and sometimes batter us, during our lives, just as a mother comforts us when things go wrong, when as children and adults we get hurt, bruised and battered. In this letter Paul explores the meaning of the Cross in terms of personal suffering, his own and all Resurrection people, which of course includes us. 

Paul suffered physically through illness, through rejection and persecution by his preaching in very hostile conditions, and through the problems the early converts suffered.  The same problems countless Christians have suffered for the faith down the centuries.  Its a sobering fact that more Christians are persecuted for their faith today than at any time in the last 2000 years, with many prepared to loose their lives for Christ. But out of that personal suffering, which we all face at various times in our lives, comes the triumph of God’s comfort and unconditional love, which gives us the courage to carry on in the face of adversity, making us stronger and more able to cope with tragedy.  God’s comfort and love meets us wherever we are in our lives and brings us to the point where we are strong enough to see new hope, new possibilities, new ways to move forward out of the darkness which engulfs us. And what is more, because we have faced our own suffering and received God’s comfort and love, we are able to comfort and love those around us who are facing similar tragedies in their own lives. Because we have gone through the dark night of the soul ourselves we can truly empathise with those who now suffer, not just sympathise but truly understand and enter into someone else’s feelings and hurt and show them God’s love for us all.

The Gospel reading is a constant reminder to us of the pain and joy of motherhood. If you remember Mary and Joseph go to the Temple to present Jesus when he was about 42 days old, and they meet the Simeon, God had told Simeon that he wouldn’t die until he had seen the Messiah. Simeon held the baby Jesus and blessed him, and said to Mary, ‘This child is destined for the falling and the rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be opposed so that the inner thoughts of many will be revealed – and a sword will pierce your own soul too.’ Mary and Joseph were probably proud of the promise Simeon seemed to hold out for Jesus, but how unprepared they were for the truth of this prophecy.  Here is a veiled reference to the pain and horror of Good Friday, without which we Christians cannot experience the joy, forgiveness and new life from the resurrection of Easter Morning. And that pain and horror of Good Friday was felt by Mary, standing at the foot of the cross, watching her beloved Son die for our sake.

Today is a day for celebration, a momentary lifting from the Lenten journey between Ash Wednesday and Holy Week. It’s a day to thank God for His grace in our lives, and to thank our earthly mother’s for our nurturing, for our upbringing, and the chances in life, which they have given us.  It’s also an opportunity to thank God for everyone we love and who have shaped our lives. Amen.