It has been said that the modern “card industry” first invented Mothers Day, as a way to increase its sales.  And during the past week or two I’m sure we would not have failed to notice Mothers Day cards on sale in nearly every second shop.   But Mothers Day was not “invented” by the card industry! Nor was it a commercial invention. 

             Anglicans – especially those brought up in England -  will point to the observance, since about the late 18th century , of what later became known as Mothering Sunday  ( because Mothering Sunday is not mentioned in our Prayer Book, neither does it have any special liturgical significance ) – and has been observed – again, mostly in the Anglican Church  - on the fourth Sunday in Lent. 

Some historians claim that Mothers Day is neither a new phenomenon, nor one that finds its roots in the Anglican church of the 18^th century , but in fact goes back much earlier into pre-Christian times and was linked with the ancient Greek spring Festival  dedicated to mother goddesses, specifically in honour of  Rhea, the Mother of the gods.    It seems that throughout the ages - there has always been a deep desire to acknowledge the gift of life our Mothers gave us, and to honour and recognise their nurturing spirit in some way or other.    The Christian church has a long history of taking pagan and other religious festivals and capitalising on them as opportunities through which to proclaim the Christian Faith. This is true of Christmas, for example; its true of All Saints Day, its true of many of the Jewish Festivals.   And there is no good reason at all why we shouldn’t continue to use current opportunities and occasions through which to proclaim Christ.      We should be looking out for, and making the most of  such opportunities. 

However, the Mothers’ Day celebrations we know today are attributed to an Anna Jarvis.

 Two years after her own mother’s death, Anna and her friends began a letter-writing campaign to gain the support of local ministers, businessmen and congressmen in declaring a national  Mothers Day holiday.  She felt that children often neglected to appreciate their mother’s enough while they were alive, and hoped that Mothers Day would increase respect for parents and strengthen family bonds.  I think there are some good Christian principles behind that intention!

            The first Mothers Day proclamation was issued by the Governor of West Virginia in 1910, and the practice of celebrating Mothers Day soon became widespread.   And that’s the true spirit behind Mothers Day.   It’s an opportunity to enjoy and give thanks to, and for, our Mums for carrying out the most important job in the world.

            So what kind of memories are evoked when you hear the word Mother!  

There are many things which come to my mind as I think about my Mum – and which I thank God for, but this morning I would like to highlight just four broad categories.

1. Her love,.    And I suppose by her love I firstly think of the fact that she was always there for us. We had a freedom to be, to grow, to develop, to do mad things – to stretch our wings – yet mum was always there for us.  She let us – as boys - rearrange the truck load of  empty packing cases in the backyard which our Dad had had delivered from work – into huts.  It seems she turned a blind eye to a lot of things which we did as boys, and which in the end, thankfully, didn’t hurt us or cause us or anyone else serious injury. Mum somehow never saw the potential for danger which looking back – was there in so much of what we did!  When we made explosives – for the heck of making a bang ; when I blew up balloons with hydrogen gas and let them float off across the street with a small lighted taper tied beneath as a time fuse, only to explode harmlessly – but with a brilliant flash and bang in mid-air !  In fact mum seemed to be cautiously impressed and almost commended our initiative and scientific ability. 

When we had our bouts of trying out cigarettes,  mum, surprisingly never seemed to smell them. Mum showed all those attributes of love – patience, kindness, goodness  - which, in a word is  just plain love, for us as a family. I think that’s what mothers do best of all.

I think that’s what Hannah, or Mary gave their sons, too. They had to let their sons go – and even later, for Mary, to stay with Jesus at the foot of the cross.    In our home – Mum was always there; -  always there to come home to. – not like the cartoon which featured in an English newspaper some years ago which showed a young boy, of five or six  years old talking on the telephone saying , “Mum is in hospital, the twins and Roxie and Billie and Sally and the dog and me and Dad are all home alone.”    Thank God for those Mums who give such unconditional love to their children.

 Secondly , my Mum gave me Faith.   Mum and Dad, together, gave me a spiritual foundation for my life. They gave that, not by telling me, or sending me off to Sunday School alone to find it – but by taking me with them.   My earliest recollections of faith and spiritual things  - as I may have shared at other times – are of me as a small boy, with Mum and Dad, at the 8am Holy Communion Service, standing on the kneeler and peering over the top of the pew, taking in what the Vicar was doing up the front.

There was something warm and comforting and memorable sitting with mum and dad in church. I wish more parents gave their children those experiences.  I think that’s the soil in which my tender spiritual life first began to germinate.  Hannah too, took her son Samuel to the house of the Lord – and there he grew up to hear and know the Lord’s voice.  Mary and Joseph would have taken Jesus regularly to the synagogue.  They took Jesus  regularly to the temple in Jerusalem, in order that he might learn and grow in the things of faith.  Thank God for those Mums who help their children grow in their spiritual lives – they are giving them something which will last for eternity.

3. Thirdly, my Mum gave me values:   Of course, growing up through the teen years I didn’t always keep those values!    But the things which our Mums teach us, as children, have a way of coming back.   Mum taught us about the Golden rule – of treating others as we would have others treat us.  She taught us about being kind and considerate; of the importance of giving, even when we didn’t think we had anything valuable to give.- and of the spiritual principles that you cannot out-give God.  She taught us and showed us the value of working hard, and of sharing, and of obedience, and,as children,  of doing what you are told.   Mum taught us all those things just as part of our normal everyday life– and with a sweetness and warmth that made it all seem so real and common sense.  

 A London editor submitted to Winston Churchill for his approval a list of all those who had been Churchill’s teachers. Churchill returned the list with this comment: “You have omitted to mention the greatest of my teachers – my mother.”   Thank God for mothers who teach their children the rules of life.

            4. Fourthly, My mother gave me memories:- some are humorous and some are serious-  but all are loving.   My mother was small in height – though in later years a little more plump around the middle than she used to be.   We jokingly used to call her sparrow-legs  - because she had very thin legs.

 She joked about being happy to be buried in a banana box at the bottom of the garden – which we didn’t agree to.   But the greatest and most enduring memories of my mum is of her love for us.  She loved each of us as though we were the only one!    But then that’s what a Mother’s  love is like  - isn’t it?  And that love is a reflection of the love which shines forth from the heart of God. 

  My mother also had a very loving and caring mother – though my grandmother had died before I was old enough to know her.  Amongst my mothers few possessions  which we as a family sifted through after she died, was a piece of notepaper on which she had written some quotes, which were obviously important to her.  On the piece of paper she had written:-

God made many lovely things ,    Sunsets and flowers and trees.

Birds and starlight and loyal friends.     And after He made all these

He gave another gift more rare,     More loving and more true,

A wonderful person most fair.        A Mother dear as you.

  I would like to conclude with a short but true story set many years ago in the U.S.A. which may just remind us of some of those qualities of mother love which we may have been so fortunate to have experienced, and for which we are so grateful today.

John Todd was born in Rutledge, Vermont, into a family of several children,  back in the early 1800s. It was an era when times were tough.  And there, at a very young age, both of  John's parents died. The relatives wondered what they would do with so many children, - for the responsibility for caring for them now rested on their shoulders – and how they could parcel them out to friends and relatives.

One dear and loving aunt said she would take little John .    The aunt sent a horse and a slave to get John, who was only six years old at the time.  The slave, Caesar, came and put the little boy on the back of the horse.   On the way back an endearing conversation took place:

John:  Will she be there?

Caesar:   Oh, yes, she'll be there waiting up for you.

John:  Will I like living with her?

Caesar: My son, you fall into good hands.

John:  Will she love me?

Caesar:  Ah, she has a big heart.

John:  Will I have my own room?  Will she let me have a puppy?

Caesar:   She's got everything all set, son.  I think she has some surprises, to!

John: Do you think she will go to bed before we get there?

Caesar: Oh. no!  She'll be sure to wait up for you. You'll see when we get out of these woods. You'll see          her candle shining in the window. /

When they got to the clearing, sure enough, there was a candle in the window and she was  standing in the doorway. She reached down, kissed him, and said “Welcome home!” She fed him supper, took him to his room, and waited until he fell asleep.

 John Todd grew up to be a great minister of the gospel. But it was there at his aunt’s, his new mother, that he grew up.  It awed him that she had given him a second home.  She had become a second mother to him.                         

            Years later, long after he had moved away, his aunt wrote to tell him of her impending death.

Her health was failing, and she wondered what was to become of her. This is what John Todd wrote her:

“My Dear Aunt, years ago I left a house of death, not knowing where I was to go, whether anyone cared, whether it was the end of me. The ride was long but the slave encouraged me.      Finally, he pointed out your candle to me, and there we were in the yard and you embraced me and took me by the hand into my own room that you had made up. After all these years I still can't believe it  - how you did all that for me!  I was expected; I felt safe in that room – so welcomed!    It was my room!   Now it's your turn to go, and as one who has tried it out, I’m writing to let you know that Someone is waiting up.   Your room is all ready, the light is on, the door is open and as you ride into the yard – don’t worry, Auntie -  You’re expected!        I know.   I once saw God standing in your doorway – long ago!"

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