Stories of Motherhood

Stories of Motherhood: Sermon (Lk: 24:13-35)

 St. Stephen’s Episcopal Church, Easter 3, May 8, 2011

It is difficult to overestimate the power of a good story and the ability of a story to endure and perpetuate its message, whether that message is one of joy, sadness, or a mixture of the two.  Some of those stories change a bit during the elapse of time.  Take two recent examples of stories with new chapters.   The wedding of Kate and Will at Westminster Abbey is one.  It hearkens back to the wedding of Diana and Charles at St. Paul’s Cathedral some thirty years before.  There is tragedy and hope, as well as sadness and joy. There is strong tradition in the continuing story of a family, a royal one at that, and the beautiful young women who marry into it.

I vividly remember our own daughter at age six getting up in the wee hours to watch Diana’s wedding.  She was up again two weeks ago at four in the morning with her six month old daughter to watch Kate’s wedding.  I think this time it probably had more to do with a sleepless baby than with a desire to see the wedding live, but the two girls did watch it together.

This last week we learned of the assassination of Osama Ben Laden. That took us back with a jolt to that fateful day ten years before when the twin towers fell.  Both times it seems we were assaulted by repeated TV images, the first time the pictures of the towers falling and this last time pictures of Ben Laden himself.  I wanted to say, “give us a break.”   I’m sure different Americans have differing feelings.  Those families who lost loved ones on that fateful day of 9/11 hopefully were able to attain a sense of vindication and some closure.  For many I think there is a feeling that justice has been done.  Yet it is an on-going story with this second chapter of what could be a multi-chapter saga.

At no time in history has the power of a story been more vividly demonstrated than in the spread of Christianity.  Jesus was a story-teller.   Yes, He taught directly when he listed the commandments or the beatitudes in the Sermon on the Mount, for example, but it is the parables where he dramatized His messages.  We remember the Good Samaritan, the Prodigal Son, the Sower.  He was demonstrating, in the case of the Good Samaritan, what it is like to be loved by a neighbor who is a hated foreigner or, in the Prodigal Son, how much God wants to forgive and welcome us home. Or, in the Sower Who Went Out to Sow His Seed,  that the word of God taking root in our lives depends on our receptivity to it.

These parables are all fictional stories.  The Apostles spread the word by repeating the parables, but also by telling the true stories of His resurrection.  Repeatedly we hear Peter and the others in the Acts of the Apostles tell the stories of the empty tomb, the appearances to various disciples and the messages He gave to them after His resurrection.  And they reached peoples’ hearts.  We hear the word “heart” in the reading from Acts today.  When Peter told the crowd that Jesus whom they crucified has been raised, it says they were cut to the heart and they repented and asked to be baptized. 

In the Gospel we hear the story of the two disciples on the Road to Emmaeus, my favorite Easter story, and how their hearts burned within them as Jesus explained the prophecies that had foretold not only his death, but His resurrection as well.  And they recognized him in the Breaking of the Bread.  We repeat that story in various form every time we celebrate the Eucharist.   

That’s how Christianity spread, by telling the stories that moved peoples’ hearts, along with the example of those who acted on that heart movement.

Speaking of heart movement, last but not least we come to the stories of motherhood on this Mother’s Day, 2011.   See, I have this idea that motherhood, the art of mothering, is passed down through the stories about mothers.  By motherhood I am not simply refering to the physical part of it, from conception, through gestation, and delivery.  She is most truly mother who acts as mother and hangs in there through the long haul that lasts a lifetime; she is not necessarily the one who bears the child.

How do little girls come to be mothers?  How do they come to be those who truly mother?  Oh sure some of it is genetic, there are natural processes of bonding that are very powerful, but how does the young mother know what to do after delivery and bonding.  I submit to you it is by being mentored by other mothers.  There are long family traditions passed down. They are primarily passed through the stories.  “When your brother was born this is what I had to do.”   “My mother, your grandmother, told me this is the way to put a baby to sleep or to wean her.”  And when that doesn’t work, you ask another mother for a different story.  “Well, what did my grandmother tell you about how she handled you or mishandled you, Mom, when you were a teenager?”   “Yes, and tell us that story again about how you and Dad met.  His story doesn’t seem to match your story.  Did you meet on the internet?”

See, these are powerful stories, some of them humorous. It’s one of the ways we manage to half-way function as a human civilization.  So, when you gather today for the celebration of Mother’s day, ask mothers and grandmothers and great-grandmothers for their stories.  If they are not there, repeat the stories you have heard from them. Maybe some of you would like to record them, like story corps, for your daughters and granddaughters.  You won’t be sorry.