Father John McGinn, Rector
Saint John’s Episcopal Church
Sandwich, Massachusetts 02563
May 13, 2007 - Mother’s Day Easter
6
The sermon is taken from the
Gospel of John.
Let the words of my mouth and
the meditations of my heart be always acceptable in thy sight, oh Lord, our
strength and our redeemer. Amen.
Days like this, and I know
although it was created by the Hallmark company, it is still important I think,
as we think about our mothers on a day like today; and I think about my mother,
and it seems just like yesterday I was able to talk with her and we were able
to enjoy life together.
But this morning I want to
start with a helpful person who made a list for men; a list about what not to
buy your wife for Mother’s Day, and I hope this will be helpful to some of the
men in the congregation. I realize this
is a little late, but just in case any of you men were planning on running out
to the Cape Cod Mall this afternoon or later this morning, this list might
help. I know my son is probably going to
be doing this.
No. 1: Don’t buy anything that plugs in. Anything that requires electricity is seen as
utilitarian.
No. 2: Don’t buy clothing that involves sizes. The chances are one in seven hundred that you
get her size right, and your wife will be offended the other six-hundred and
ninety-nine times. “Do I look like a
size 16,” she’ll say. Too small a size
doesn’t cut it either. “I haven’t worn a
size 8 in twenty years.”
No. 3: Avoid all things useful. The new silver polish advertised to save
hundreds of hours is not going to win you any brownie points.
No. 4: Don’t buy anything that involves weight loss
or self-improvement. She’ll perceive a six-month membership to a diet center as
a suggestion that she is overweight.
No. 5: Don’t buy jewelry. The jewelry your wife wants, you can’t
afford, and the jewelry you can afford, your wife doesn’t want.
No. 6: Finally, don’t spend too much. “And how do you think we are going to afford
that?” she’ll ask. But don’t spend too
little. She won’t say anything, but she
will think, “is that all I am worth?”
I want to say good luck to
everyone this morning. Hopefully, this
year you will be successful with your Mother’s Day gifts.
But today, in all honestly,
we honor our mothers. Not everyone can
be a mother, of course. Some women and
their husbands try for years to conceive a child and it never happens. Some women choose not to have families, and
some women never meet the right man for a life partner. And people have all kinds of life situations
today. We can’t put everyone in the same
box; and some people who don’t fit the category of mother deserve to be
honored.
I heard about the worship
committee of one Episcopal church in the south that was discussing what to do
to recognize Mother‘s Day. They decided
to give a rose to the oldest mother in the congregation, and one to the mother
with the most children and the most grandchildren, and so on down the line.
They also decided to have all
the mothers stand. Then someone on the
committee got worried. What should they
do about Miss Smith? Miss Smith never
had any children, but she had been teaching the first grade Sunday school class
for thirty years. “She is like a mother
to all of us,” said someone. “We ought
to be able to recognize her on Mother’s Day.
And that makes sense. In fact, we really ought to have a day to
honor all those people who give loving service to others.
Some of you are at that point
in life where you are being the parent to your own mother and/or father. We call it “the sandwich generation,” and
that’s not named after the town of
Sandwich, but rather the sandwich; and it’s a popular term. Looking after your children and looking after
aging parents at the same time.
There ought to be a day to
honor all people who are caregivers. We
might include nurses and workers in assisted living centers. We might include teachers, and our Mother’s
Day celebration could really get out of hand.
And we do have Father’s Day
coming up in a few weeks; and that’s important since an increasing number of
men play care-giving roles today.
But this morning, I will
admit my focus is to women who are responsible for the well-being of
children: moms and grandmothers and foster
mothers and every women involved somehow in a parenting role.
Jesus said to his disciples
before he left them, “Peace I leave with you, my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled, and do
not be afraid.” Jesus wanted his
disciples to have a sense of inner peace when he was no longer with them. He didn’t want them to be afraid. He was sending them out into a hostile world,
and as long as they served him, they would not know any outward peace.
If you read Hebrews chapter
11 concerning the heroes of our faith, here is how that chapter describes what
some of the followers of Jesus had to face.
Some were tortured and refused to be released. Some faced jeers and flogging, while still
others were chained and put in prison.
They were stoned, they were sawed in two, they were put to death by the
sword. They went about in sheepskins and
goatskins destitute and persecuted and mistreated. The world was not worthy of them. They
wandered in deserts, in mountains and in caves and holes in the ground. This is the peace that Jesus wanted for
them.
The Evangelist may promise
you that if you follow Jesus, God is going to pour out his blessing, but Jesus
never made such a claim. Jesus’
disciples knew no outer peace, but they had an inner peace that the world
cannot shake.
Isn’t that what you desire
above all else for our children? You
cannot protect them from every snare and every heartache no matter how much you
want to. I know some of you try. I new term has crept into our lexicon. It is call “helicopter parents.” Those are parents who hover over their
children all the time and try to protect them.
Ironically the main thing that helicopter parents achieve is that their
children lose their ability to cope with problems by themselves. Even the best helicopter parents, however,
can’t protect their children from all of life’s slings and arrows. What we hope for them is to give them inner
peace in a world of turmoil.
And isn’t that what we really
mean when we say, “All I want for them is for them to be happy.” What we want for our children is what Jesus
wanted for his disciples. Inner peace,
inner strength, inner confidence that will allow them to stand tall in the hour
of testing.
Now how do we give them that
peace the world can neither give nor take away?
First of all, we tell them…we tell them who they are. If they have a strong sense of identify and a
sense of self-worth, they are on the path to inner peace.
Oh, I know it is not easy to
care for a small child. During a flood
one family sent its little boy to stay
with an uncle in another part of the state accompanied by a letter explaining
the reason for the nephews sudden and unexpected visit. And two days later the parents received a
telegram, “Am returning boy, send the flood.”
Those of you who have little
boys in your household I think understand.
It is not easy being a parent.
Sometimes we can be overwhelmed with demands on our time and energy. I’d like to add another term to our modern
vocabulary. It is called “sunset
fatigue.”
Now I know when our children
were growing up, many, many days I was away most of the day. And sometimes when I worked in the corporate
world, I was gone for several days. And
when we come home at the end of our work, those who need our love most, those
to whom we are most committed, end up getting the leftovers. Sunset fatigue is when we are just too tired,
or too drained, or too preoccupied to love the people to whom we have made the
deepest promises. Sunset fatigue has set
in when you find yourself rushing even when there is no reason to; when you set up mock races, (“Okay, kids, let’s
see who can take a bath the fastest”) that are really about your own needs to
get through the day. And when there is
an underlying tension that causes sharp words, or sibling quarrels, it is a
challenge; but somehow we need to grab hold of our own emotions from time to
time so that we can communicate to our children that they really are the center
of our attention; that they have inestimable worth in our eyes. We help them develop inner peace, first of
all, when we give them positive messages about themselves.
And secondly, we give our
children inner peace when we help them develop a sense of responsibility. We do our children no favor when we deprive
them of the opportunity of contributing to the family well-being. How will they discover that they are capable
unless we require them to try their hand at tasks around the house. How will they develop the discipline they
will need to succeed in life if we do not set expectations for them.
Some parents fail their
children because it is easier to avoid conflict, then it is to teach them to
pick up their clothes and to clean their rooms and to help with the
housework. Such tasks are necessary,
however, for them to be happy and productive adults.
We help them develop inner
peace when we help establish their identity and help them develop a sense of
responsibility. But most of all, we help
children develop inner peace when we help them develop a sense of God’s
presence in their lives.
Today I do remember my
mother, and I miss her a great deal. My
mother really helped me find God.
I had a childhood crisis of
faith when I was six years old. For a
long time I thought I was the only person in my church who couldn’t see
Jesus. My mother took me to church every
Sunday, and I noticed the joy and peace that radiated from the church members’
faces. I wanted to meet this Jesus that
all the people seemed to talk about; but I had never seen Jesus in my
church. So I set out on a quest to find
Jesus. I searched all over my Sunday
school classroom, but found no sign of Jesus.
I crawled under the pews, but still didn’t spot Jesus. I poked my head into the sacristy; I even
sneaked up to the pulpit and looked into this inner sanctum, but no Jesus. Finally, I thought of one room, holy and
mysterious, into which I had never dared venture. At age six I had never seen the inside of the
room where the priest got ready for the service; where he got into his
robes. That must be the place where
Jesus hung out, I thought. One Sunday I
worked up my courage, and I snuck into that room. Jesus was nowhere to be found.
Now I returned to the
sanctuary just in time for Holy Communion, and ordinarily I paid little
attention to the sacred ritual. But this
time I noticed how peaceful and happy my mother looked after eating the
bread. I leaned close to my mother,
sensing that she bore the answer to my quest.
“Mom,” I said, “what is that?” And she tried to deflect my attention but
I wouldn’t give up. “What is that,
Mom? What is that smell that I smell?” And she finally replied, “Oh, John, that is
Jesus. It is Jesus inside of me.” And I finally understood a tiny piece of the
mystery. Jesus wasn’t lost; Jesus was
living inside of my mother.
Now, some of us probably
wouldn’t have found Jesus if he hadn’t lived inside our mother, or our father,
or our grandparents, or some other loving adult. That’s how, I think, we normally come to
Jesus. We come through the influence of
someone very close to us whom we love and admire.
And so the question for every
mother this day; indeed the question for every adult: Could a child sense Jesus in your life? Could a young person find faith in your
witness? What we want for our children
is the same thing that Jesus wanted for his disciples. A peace that the world cannot take away. We can help them by helping them have a sense
of who they are; by helping them develop a sense of responsibility and by
showing them Jesus in our own lives.
Amen