The Great Mother's Day Muddle

As a pastor, I have borderline dread of non-liturgical holidays like Mother's Day. It is a minefield of conflicting expectations and also hurt feelings. I mean, Mother's Day is not Christmas nor Easter, nor Pentecost, nor Lent. But it is a huge cultural event.

According to this website, Americans spend some $671 million just on Mother's Day cards! The total average amount of money the average person will spend on gifts of their mom on Mother’s Day is $126.90. Mother's Day flowers will set us back $1.9 billion, that's right, BILLION with a "B", even with coupons from FTD.com and ProFlowers.com. The grand total of Mother's Day expenditures? $14.6 billion. We tend to take this holiday seriously.

But what am I to say on Mother's Day as a pastor? I read blog posts like this one, What I Wish My Pastor Would Say About Mothers, and I wonder whether I can say anything. Then I read posts like this one, and feel I am getting a handle on things. They are trying to be helpful, but I wind up feeling almost paralyzed.

Even in a small congregation like the one I serve, there are multiple expressions of motherhood. Widows. Mothers who outlived their children. Women who are married who never had children. Women who never married and who had a child or two. Women who never married and who never had children. Women with step-children. Young women looking forward to whatever God has for them, with ideas implanted in their hearts by family, tradition, culture, and Uncle Walt.

Many years ago, while serving a church in Hacienda Heights, I was a new father. I was deeply engrossed in the new experience of parenthood. I began a newsletter article with something like this: "Most people have children, but pastors have sermon illustrations." I was trying to be humorous, and light-hearted about how pastors always talk about their kids in sermons.

A few days after the newsletter went out, snail mail, I received a bunch of letters than handed me my hat, and deeply humbled me. All of them took exception to the opening phrase, "Most people have children." I read letter after letter from people who wanted children, and yet could not, or people who had lost children to miscarriage or to a premature death. I had no idea.

So here's the thing. I love mothers. I love my own mom, who passed on to her reward now ten years ago. I love my wife, the mother of our two children. I love the sacrifices that mothers make for children. As egalitarian as I had hoped to be as a young parent, my wife, Beth, got up in the middle of the night to feed and quiet our two infants, oh, 98% of the time. Once a month, I would boast to my colleagues that I got up last night to care for the kids. I wanted to impress them, and hoped they wouldn't ask anything like, "So when was the last time you did that?"

Women who are mothers juggle the conflicting demands of career and family, giving time to children and spouse. The feminists want women to forsake motherhood and pursue the career track. The traditionalists want women to stay in the home, just like their mothers and grandmothers had done. And somehow, women who are mothers make this work.

Childbirth is painful, and while I have not experienced the pain, I have seen it up close and personal, twice. If men were the ones who bore children, the human race would be in dire trouble. And yet, I very rarely hear a mother complain about the pain of childbearing.

So there is something deeply and wonderfully commendable, even spiritual about Mother's Day, in all the forms that motherhood takes.

And yet, we pastors and leaders don't want to offend anyone. So we try and make Mother's Day about Women in general. I sure don't want to leave anyone out of the party, as Jesus welcomes everybody. But there is something that is not quite satisfying about turning Mother's Day into a generic Women's Day. It seems to me to be falsely honoring women in general, and shortchanges the honor due women who are mothers.

But the practices mentioned in many blog posts, having mothers stand during the worship service, can seem, well, awkward. I can see that. But I need help understanding this, really.

I hope what is not implied is that only women with children are acceptable to God, or to us. The great hero, Esther, whom I will preach about on Sunday as part of "The Story", had no children as far as the biblical story goes. If I have ever implied this, I apologize.

I hope what is not implied is that a woman's highest goal is to be married and have children. If I have ever implied this, I apologize.

Nor do I hope what is implied is that honoring women who are mothers is somehow a bad thing, because it will hurt some feelings. I think honor and praise of people is far too rare in our churches, and even more rare in our culture.

I loved the movie, "The Incredibles", with the tag line, "If everyone is special, then no one is special." I cringed when my kids were in elementary school (Arroyo Vista Wildcats!!), and once a month children were honored. It seemed as the goal was to honor every child during the year. While I appreciated the desire to recognize each child's unique gifts and abilities, there were some children who seemed to be honored simply for showing up to school once in a while.

So is there a way to celebrate mothers without making others feel left out? I'm not sure, but I hope so.

Te Apostle Paul writes in Philippians 2:29 concerning Epahroditus, "Welcome him then in the Lord with all joy, and honor such people." Such people are those who lay down their lives for the sake of others. Christians are to do that as a lifestyle. Mothers do this every day, setting aside their own agendas for those of their children. 

It seems to me that being a mother is an expression of the gospel, but it is not the only one! It is a vital role, an essential role for the human race. And we do well to honor mothers, and pray for them each and every day.

But we also do well to honor others who express the gospel in other ways, and pray for them each day.

Some wise words from Romans 12:15- "Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep." Rejoicing and weeping are opposites, and yet we are called to do both, when appropriate. Those who rejoice should rejoice wholeheartedly, but also be mindful that there are those who do not rejoice. Also, those who weep need to weep wholeheartedly, but also be mindful not to rob the joy of those who rejoice.

So, yeah, I am still wrestling with this. I appreciate all my friends who have pointed out various perspectives on this. While it is overwhelming, sometimes life is like that, and under the guidance of God's Spirit, we do the best we can.

BTW, here's what I wrote about my mom on the first anniversary of her death, in 2005. So my own experience of Mother's Day is quite mixed between joy and sorrow.

And hey, let me know what you think.