Benefice of St Mary’s Chard, Combe St
Nicholas, Wambrook and Whitestaunton
14th
March 2021 4th Sunday of Lent
Mothering Sunday
Well, we are
now back where we began last year at the eve of Mothering Sunday the day in the
Church calendar when we traditionally remember Mothers in all their glorious
and sometimes not so glorious image. The time when groups should be meeting up
to prepare bunches of glorious spring flowers and yellow trumpet daffodils to
give out in Church and to those women unable to attend. A touch of festiveness
in the middle of Lent, taken from us, almost one could say depriving us,
separating us, creating a loneliness, bereft maybe of the touch or hug of loved
ones, if we had been told as we entered the first lockdown that we would still
be here in a year, how I wonder would that have affected us differently, as for
sure it would have done. A long journey of faith and fear, joy and sadness,
loneliness and new friendships. Rev Katharine was still here with us
celebrating alongside Rev Ann, it seems such a long time ago. Mothering Sunday the day when we identify
with Mother God as well as Father God
Introduction
Over 100 years of Mothering Sunday
In 1913
Constance Penswick-Smith (1878-1938), the daughter of the vicar of Coddington,
Nottinghamshire, caught the vision to celebrate Mothering Sunday. Later in 1921
Constance wrote a booklet asking for a full revival of Mothering Sunday,
eventually founding The Society for the Observance of Mothering Sunday and
spending more than 25 years promoting the celebration of the festival. Thanks
mainly to Constance's efforts, Mothering Sunday - which has its roots in the
pre- Reformation Church - has been widely observed and re-established across
the Church of England, and celebrated in wider society. There are traditions
associated with Mothering Sunday in England which date back as long ago as the
16th century. It is told that this was the day when people were encouraged to
return to worship in their ‘mother church where they had been baptised. People
who usually attended the local parish church, would make a longer journey to
the ‘mother church’ or cathedral of the Diocese. Girls in domestic service
would bake to show their mothers their new skills in the form of a gift,
traditionally a simnel cake. On this day many girls who were in service were
allowed time off from domestic chores to visit their mothers and their family.
Today Mothering
Sunday is a popular day when Christians choose to use the occasion to think
about all things which concern motherhood, in all it’s different forms and
ways. We give thanks for the Church as Mother, the Virgin Mary as the mother of
Jesus, we remember that God cares for us like a mother and last but not least
we give thanks for our own mothers or those who loved us and brought us up as
our mother. Mothering Sunday is is a time of special thanksgiving. It is the
one day of joy in Lent, when flowers abound in all churches and when people are
allowed a time off from the penitential season. It is also known as Mid-Lent
Sunday, Refreshment Sunday or Laetare Sunday. The Latin name of Laetare, means
rejoice.
In the
fourteenth century Julian of Norwich, the first woman to write in modern
English, experienced and understood the motherhood of God in her visions.
Mothering Sunday is a good day to share her vision and recognise that although
we are distinguished by our gender, God is not. Instead God is both mother and
father to us.
‘As truly as
God is Father, so just as truly is he our mother.’ Julian of Norwich.
Adapted from “this is Church”
For me
Mothering Sunday this year strangely enables me to identify more closely with
those who have lost or never had a good mother experience, or the ability and
desire to be a mother. I believe that is the case for many of us. I don’t own
those experiences I have my own mother who I love, but have not seen for over a
year now, but the lose of seeing and being has created a vacuum which is going
to continue for this year. It will be extremely hard this year I believe to
give, or be, how we would otherwise be, there will I am sure be a rawness about
this year’s Day. There will be the
lamentation of loss, which is mirrored so deeply in our Gospel reading for us.
That moment
in time when Mother Mary, her sister and the two other Mary’s were gathered at
the Cross. The fact that they were even there should not be lost on us
alongside the lamentation of loss for Jesus as he gave his loving mother Mary
over into the care of his beloved Disciple John. Mary is not just a mother, she
is a Jewish one mother, she knows that her role is not only to be a loving mother
for her children, but also their teacher. In the Gospel John the evangelist
places the disciple standing by the mother, his testimony accompanies Mary’s testimony.
She is also a disciple that follows her Son to the cross. She is giving her
spiritual sons and daughters the example of a firm witness
who follows
the Master’s footsteps, even as in her heart surely she remembered the words of
Simeon, “and a sword shall pierce your heart”.
Let’s hold
the joy and sorrow, lamentation and vision of the new earth and new heaven
together in a bobbly ball in our hands and hearts, living in the knowledge that
despite what emotions and thoughts rise within us we are held by Mother God
through the Spirit.
I do like
this reflection.
A Fault in the Design?
When God was creating mothers, he was deep in
his sixth day of overtime. An angel appeared and said, ‘You’re doing a lot of
fiddling around on this one.’ And God answered, ‘Look at the requirement on
this order and you’ll understand why. She has to be completely washable but not
plastic. Have 180 movable parts, each one replaceable. Run on black coffee and
leftovers. Have a kiss that can cure anything from a broken leg to a
disappointed love affair. And have six pairs of hands.’
The angel shook her head, ‘Six pairs of hands?
That’s not possible even for you, O God.’ ‘It’s not the hands that are causing
me problems,’ replied the L ORD. ‘It’s the three pairs of eyes that mothers are
supposed to have.’ ‘Are the three pairs of eyes supposed to be on the standard
model?’ asked the angel. The Lord nodded gravely. ‘One pair that sees through
closed doors when she asks, “What are you kids doing in there?” - even though
she already knows. Another pair in the back of her head that sees what she’s
not supposed to see but what she has to know about. And of course the ones here
in front that can look at a child when he does something really silly and
reflect, “I understand and I love you.” even thought she doesn’t utter a word.’
‘Lord,’ said the angel gently, ‘get some rest.
Tomorrow…. try again.’ ‘I can’t,’ said the Lord. ‘I’m so close to creating
something so similar to myself. Already I have one who heals herself when she
is sick, can feed a family of six on three hundred grams of mince, and get a nine-year-old
to stay under a shower for an incredible two minutes.
The angel circled the model of the mother very
slowly and sighed, ‘It’s much too soft dear God.’ ‘Soft, yes, but tough too,’
said the Lord excitedly. ‘You cannot imagine what the mother can do or endure.’
‘Can it think?’ asked the angel. ‘Not only think,’ said the Creator, ‘ it can
also reason and compromise.’ Finally, the angel bent over and ran her fingers
across the cheek. ‘There’s a leak,’ she said suddenly. ‘I told you that you were
trying to put too much into this model. You can’t ignore the stress factor.’
The Lord moved in for a closer look and gently
lifted the drop of moisture to his finger where it glistened and sparkled in
the light. ‘It’s not a leak,’ God said. ‘It’s a tear.’ The angel looked
puzzled, ‘A tear? What’s that for?’ ‘It’s for joy, sadness, disappointment,
compassion, pain, loneliness, and pride.’ ‘You are a genius,’ said the angel
rapturously.
The Lord looked sombre and said, ‘I didn’t put
it there.’
From the book
‘Gatherings’ by Bronwen Wild. The reading “And God created Mothers” by Erma
Bombeck is on p18.
And I was given this verse this week by Liz,
which all of us male and female can use to encourage the youngsters we come
into contact with in our daily lives. It holds a positive rather than a
negative vision unlike the one the media gives out. Tell the children they are
special, what better encouragement can we all give to our young people than
that, to build them up in the journey of life.
In twenty
years’ time...
People will
not ask the children of 2020 if they caught up with their studies.
They will
not ask them what grades they made, despite the year off school.
They will
ask them with wonder ‘what was it like?’
They will
ask them ‘how did you cope?’
‘How did you
feel?’
‘What do you
remember of those days?”
They will
listen in awe to the tales of clapping on doorsteps for the medical workers.
They will
sit open-mouthed to hear of daily walks being the only life we saw and how much
we missed human contact and gatherings.
They will be
amazed to know about empty supermarkets, online concerts, birthdays spent on a
screen and a life lived inside.
They will
listen, then sit back with amazement and say, ‘Wow. You went through so much.’
So think about
what you would like your children to take away from this whole year.
Tell them
they are not behind.
Tell them
they are not missing out.
Tell them
they are extremely special indeed and they will be forever made stronger by
this unique time.
Tell them catching
up is not even a thing because they have grown so much in so many other ways.
Remind them
too of the fun stuff, the family jigsaws, the window rainbows, the zoom bingo.
The feeling
of safety and togetherness amidst the chaos.
Let them
take that thought with them through life.
Change the
narrative now and it will travel far.
Tell the
children they are not behind.
They are
special.
They are
special. By Donna Ashworth
Author of
History Will Remember Painting by Samantha Shirley
And lastly
from our Morning Prayer this meditation seems good to share with you. Be
Blessed Rev Georgina.
A Mediation
for Lent
I am not
here to pass judgement
or point the finger at anyone.
My name was written in the sand
as one who is forgiven.
Strengthened with hope, impervious to shame,
I will walk freely like the freshness
of the dry lands after rain.
Let light
spill out of heaven
through my life,
dispelling mediocrity and silent blame.
Too many people, guilt-stricken, wounded,
walk in regret,
feeling bad about failing,
apologise even for breathing.
Raw belief,
a passion for others
grows in me,
encircling each moment
with instinctive prayer.
I will carry the freshness
of the dry lands after rain.
Compassion lives in me again. By Andy
Raine
