‘I want to begin on this Mothering Sunday rather cheerfully by reading a passage called "The Meanest Mother in the World"!
It was written by a young mother back in 1967. It goes like this:
I had the meanest mother in the whole world. While other children ate sweets for breakfast, I had to have cereal, eggs or toast. When others had coke and sweets for lunch, I had to eat a sandwich. As you can guess, my supper was different than the others also. But at least, I wasn't alone in my sufferings. My sister and two brothers had the same mean mother as I did.
We had to wear clean clothes and take a bath. The other children always wore their clothes for days. We reached the height of insults because she made our clothes herself, just to save money. Why, oh why, did we have to have
a mother who made us feel different from our friends? The worst is yet to come. We had to be in bed by nine each night and up at eight the next morning. We couldn't sleep till noon like our friends. So while they slept-my mother actually had the nerve to break the child-labour law.
She made us work. We had to wash dishes, make beds, learn to cook and all sorts of cruel things. I believe she used to lie awake at night thinking up mean things to do to us.
She always insisted upon us telling the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, even if it killed us- and it nearly did. By the time we were teen-agers, she was even wiser, and our life became even more unbearable.
None of this tooting the horn of a car for us to come running. She embarrassed us no end by making our friends come to the door to get us. If I spent the night at a friends house, she checked to see if I was really there.
Through the years, things didn't improve a bit. We couldn’t lie in bed "sick" like our friends did, and miss school. If our friends had a toe ache or a nail hanging off, they could stay home from school.
Our marks in school had to be up to par. Our friends' report cards often had beautiful colours on them, black for passing, red for failing. My mother being as different as she was, would settle for nothing less than ugly black marks. She was a mean mother !
And now some years later, I try to model myself on her - I stand a little taller and I am filled with pride when my children call me mean. Because, you see, I thank God, He gave me the meanest mother in the whole world.’
So often it’s easy to confuse spoiling someone with loving them and we all know that there are times when loving someone means not saying ‘Yes’ to their demands. Today, Mothering Sunday, is a day of some confusion. It is often portrayed in shops as a day of chocolates and flowers. In restaurants special menus are done which seem to be a little more expensive than on other days. It is easy to get caught up in this materialistic fervour – either to partake in it, or to rebel totally against it, but one thing that we must always remember on this day is that it is a celebration of love. We celebrate the love of mothers, and those who care as mothers. And as we think about love our minds must always turn to God, because love is from God, and God is love, so in effect any celebration of the gifts of God is a celebration of the love of God.
As we focus on the love of a good mother, not just a literal mother, but also the many other people who care for someone with the love of a mother, we recognise the quality of a self sacrificing love. Mothering Sunday helps us to focus on the fact that love is about the giving of oneself over to the demands of another unconditionally.
And that is the true cost, and it can be a huge cost. But it is a cost we are wise to celebrate, because as we do we remember that we celebrate the unconditional love of God…
The love of God is not about having his people being simple extensions of himself and doers of his wishes; it is about granting his children their individuality, their choice and their own chosen destinies. For God, as for any loving parent, this may bring heartache and pain – it may bring suffering, but it is a two sided relationship, because as God loves, he also receives the pleasure of people loving him.
And good mothers throughout the world would easily recognise this love. In so many cases, no matter what a son or daughter may do, they remain a person who is loved, and with God this is even more true. However we may rebel against him or turn to other things or people, he continues to love us, and his arms are always open to welcome us back.
So today with all of the gifts and cards that may be around, with all of the excitement, we must take a moment to pause and thank God for the love of mothers, for the love of all who care, and for his unconditional, unbending and unchanging love, for each one of us. AMEN
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