What Did Your Mother Teach You?

Sermon by Pr. Craig Mueller on Sunday, August 18, 2024 + Mary, Mother of Our Lord

I’ve been thinking about mothers the past week.

My mom turned 87 on Wednesday. She is in a rehab center recovering from cellulitis and facing some harsh realities of aging.

Today we celebrate Mary, Mother of Our Lord. Mary is also known as Mother of God, Mother of the Church, Mother of All Believers.

And of course, I think of Mother Earth, and the divine feminine, and the energy of life that brings to birth all that is alive and verdant and fruitful, especially at this time of year. Tomatoes, peaches, corn on the cob, to name a few.

Mothers have so much to teach us. What did you learn from your mother?

Our two weeks in Alaska were beyond words. Mountains, glaciers, fjords. Bears, whales, salmon, sea lions. Speaking of mothers, we learned that bear cubs spend nearly two years with their mother. What do they learn? How to hibernate? How to hunt for salmon? Orcas—or killer whales—teach their young to breathe, and since they are mammals, their babies nurse. And some whales have lifelong relationships with their offspring. We heard of a whale who gave birth to a stillborn baby, and then carried it on her nose for 17 days! There was concern that the mother wasn’t eating, but grief can do that.

In Gaza, Mohammad Abu Al Qumsan is grieving his two twins, Aysal and Aser, born three days before they were killed in an Israeli strike this week. Mohammed says that when he married his wife, Dr. Joumana, his joy was immense, but when he learned of his twins’ deaths, he also learned of his wife’s death. In a single day he lost everything. Yet he bore his wife’s weight, being a pallbearer for her, and then prayed at his family’s funeral. A burden too great to bear—the loss of mother and twins. This Palestinian mother had no opportunity to nurture or teach her children.

We wonder what Jesus learned from his mother. What she modeled. What she taught. What kind of advice she gave.

The lists of what our mother taught us will vary, but I am struck by one woman’s list of remarkable things her mother taught her, including:

1. You have to accept that life is not fair.

2. Focus on the things you’re meant to do in every season of life.

3. Words said are like spilt water. You can’t get them back.

4. Your thoughts determine your fate.

Those all sound good to me. Back to Mary. Mary, who opened her life to the confounding mystery of God. Mary, whose heart was torn by grief.

Mary has been honored by the Christian faithful since the earliest centuries. If you’re Roman Catholic or Orthodox, it is a given that Mary is an essential part of your faith. Yet, as Protestants we have inherited some Mary-phobia, often throwing out the Mother with the bath water. Missing the incredible ways that Mary can enrich our faith and our spirituality.

So for today, three things Mother Mary teaches us.

First, Mary teaches us to sing of God’s greatness. In the song of Mary, the Magnificat, she magnifies the name of the Lord. Her song is the Church’s song—especially during Advent and at Evening Prayer.

Animals make all kinds of sounds, but singing is a uniquely human activity. Those who sing in choirs know the bond that develops. I learned that singing releases, endorphins and other happy chemicals that boosts your mood and helps you feel good about yourself and life. No wonder singing is the most natural way for us to get us out of ourselves, and to offer praise.

Holy Trinity is known for its singing! Some newcomers are surprised by how much of the service we sing.

The psalms are the song of Church, and the songbook of Judaism. I wonder if Mary had psalms on her lips in times of joy, after giving birth, and when her heart was breaking at the cross.

Second, Mary teaches us to trust, even when we are most perplexed. Mary’s world was turned upside down when a strange angel announced a most unexpected pregnancy. Like us, she revealed hesitancy and doubt. “How can this be,” she exclaimed. Yet her “how can this be” led to “let it be.”

Mary, we need that wisdom. Some things in life we can change; so many things we cannot. Some say God sends things our way. Others call it the universe. Or chance. Or providence. Whatever we call it, all we can control is our response. Our openness to what is. What it can teach us. How it can shape us. Mary’s let it be, our three-word prayer.

And third, Mary teaches us to be bearers of justice in the world. Mary’s song, her Magnificat, is revolutionary. It challenges those in power. Those with privilege. Those with wealth. And that seems to be us in our world. It challenges us to be advocates for the war-torn, the marginalized, the forgotten, the lowly.

Mary sings of a God who casts the mighty from their thrones and lifts up the lowly. Who feeds the hungry with good things and sends the rich away empty.

Whether those devastated by war and violence. Whether those starving in Sudan, those grieving in Palestine, or those without homes on the streets of our city, Mary calls us to not only sing and trust, but to raise our voices—to march, to protest, to vote—on behalf of those overwhelmed with life: wearied, worried, and worn-down.

Kelly Lattimore is a contemporary icon writer. One of the icons, created after the death of George Floyd, shows a pietá scene, Mary and Jesus both portrayed as black. It is called “Mama.” Another icon is on our bulletin cover. Mary, star of the sea. If you haven’t already, later read the description at the back of the bulletin. Mary, protector of the oppressed. Mary, not in the clouds, but with the lowly, with migrants and refugees seeking a better life.

So many mothers to hold in our hearts this day. Our own mother. Others who have nurtured us with motherly care. The loss of mothers and mothers who have known devastating loss. Mother Earth. And Mother Mary.

At this table, we become God-bearers. Mothers, if you will. The Word takes flesh in us. And together we bring to birth Christ for our world. As it did with Mary, God’s Spirit overshadows us. Animates us. Nourishes us. Transforms us. Fills us with such pregnant abundance that, with Mary, we sing of God’s greatness.

With Mary, we trust, we “let it be” even we when don’t understand what is happening to us. With Mary, we lift our voices for justice, and strain for the day when the earth will be healed, when wars will cease, and all people will be honored as children of God. May Mary, our mother, teach and guide us.