Sermon. 30 March 2025. St Nicholas’, Ashill.
4th
Sunday of Lent, Year of Luke: Mothering Sunday.
2
Corinthians 5:16-21
Luke
15:1-3, 11b-32
Time
for a question. A thing about this year is that Mothering Sunday falls on a
particular Sunday in the Church calendar. In the Church calendar today has,
well, quite a lot of names, actually. It is Laetare Sunday. That means
it is “Praise Sunday”. It is also “Refreshment Sunday”. It is also – and this
is most boring one – “The Fourth Sunday of Lent”. So the question is this: when
you think was the last time Mothers’ Day happened on this particular Sunday in
the Church calendar? How many years back? Anyone want to guess? [People
guess.]
It
is every year. Yes, it was a trick question. It is deliberate that Mothers’ Day
happens on “Refreshment Sunday” in the Church. In fact, that’s how Mothering
Sunday started. Some of it is lost in the sands of time, but a possible history
is this:
1.
Lent was a time of fasting. Of going without. But the Church knew that it
needed to be gentle with people. So around the middle of Lent, it said to
people quite openly: you can have a pause, a pause from your fasting. You can
treat yourself today.
2,
Then a tradition grew up doing something a bit special on this Refreshment
Sunday. You go to your Mother Church, the Church were you were baptised
(christened).
3.
Now, people who had servants knew that it was a good thing to give their
servants this day off, to go to their Mother Church, and, in all probability,
see their mothers, perhaps picking flowers from the hedgerows along the way.
That’s
one account of why Refreshment Sunday is Mothering Sunday. Every year.
Let’s
turn to our readings. The First Reading tells us of new life and a new
creation. I hope this is attractive to you. Many families long for a fresh
start. That reading wants you to have confidence that you can. God can give you
a fresh start.
And
in our Gospel reading, Jesus tells a story. Do you remember it? It’s on your
sheet. It’s a story you may well have heard. It’s often called the story of
“the Prodigal Son”.
Here’s
my next question. Who is the most important woman or girl in the story of the
Prodigal Son? [Nervous laughter.]
Yes,
it’s another trick question. We have to be honest. In this story – a story told
by Jesus, no less – no women and no girls are mentioned. I say again: we have
to be honest. This is how a lot – maybe almost all - of the Bible is. Time and
again, in the Bible, the men are named, and the women are not.
This
is not a good thing. It comes about because of course the Bible comes to us
from an ancient culture. Today, even people who call themselves “conservative”
or “traditional” would do things differently. Today, we would all name women,
and tell their stories too. That doesn’t mean that God made a mistake, coming
in Jesus 2000 years ago. Whenever God came to us – whenever - some things would
be strange, to those who came centuries before that time, and to those who came
centuries after that time.
Now,
a promise: no more trick questions. A serious question and an open question: is
the story that Jesus tells us believable? [Various answers; all affirmative.]
You
can argue it either way. The younger son ends up eyeing up the pigs’ food. Very
few of us do that. Things have gone catastrophically wrong, if you end up
envying pigs their comforts. So, it’s an extreme story. Unlikely, then.
But
take a step back, and think about the shape of the story. A child falls out
with the family, and goes away. The child comes to regret this, and comes home,
expecting a telling-off, at least. What happens is some welcome him back with
open arms. But some – meaning his own brother - resent him. So we have the
rebellious child, and the resentful child. And… very tentatively… I think… that
is believable. I think this sort of thing happens in families.
So
it’s good to name it. Church isn’t a place where we make things up, where we
pretend things are better than they are. Things can go wrong in families.
People fall out. When people try to make up, sometimes people forgive, and
sometimes they do not. Families survive all of this, and worse. Families are
resilient. On Mothering Sunday, let us thank God for the resilience of families!
Another
serious question (serious, open question): what’s the turning point in the
story? [People speak of both sons.]
Well,
one turning point is obvious. The younger son gets into the mess, then he really
sees what a mess he is in. The English says: “he came to his senses”.
The original (Greek) says: “he came to himself”. And that makes perfect
sense in English too. He came to himself. And he gets up, and goes on a
journey. The turning point. Obvious.
But
I suggest that again it’s different if we ask what is the turning point for us,
who are hearing the story.
What
about this: “while [the son] was still far off, his father saw him and was
filled with compassion; he ran and put his arms around him and kissed him.”
While
he was still far off. That’s when we get to the secret in the story. We learn
that the story had a secret all along, and now we know it. The secret it this:
the
father never stopped looking for his son.
His
father, all the time, was looking into the far distance, and thinking, longing,
praying:
“May
this be the day, when my son comes home”.
While
he was still far off, his father saw him, and rejoiced.
By
the way, if it isn’t obvious, the father in the story is God. God the Father
longs for each one of us to come home to Him.
God
is loving, and some people speak of the motherly-fatherly love of God. God is a
motherly Father. Now, thank goodness, the roles of the mother and the father
are not as fixed as they used to be, with, at worst, the mother offering love
and the father as the rule-giver. Thank God those days are gone. And yet… and
yet I think it does make sense to think of the motherly-fatherly love of God.
While
you were yet far off, God is looking out for you, longing for you to come home
to Him, and rejoicing in your home-coming.
Happy
Mothering Sunday.
*
Why is this service a Eucharist?
We
now come to the Eucharistic Prayer. That
sounds like very churchy language. It’s only because it comes from a Greek
word. It’s not hard to say what it means. It means the great Prayer of
Thanksgiving of the Church. We pray thanks over bread and wine.
The
culmination of this prayer is communion. A word about that. If you are
confirmed, or if you normally receive communion in your own church, you are
welcome to receive communion here. Just hold out your hand for the wafer, and
take a sip from the common cup. If for any reason you are uncomfortable sharing
the common cup, if you just take the wafer, you will have made your full
communion. Moreover, any one is very welcome to come forward at communion – for
a personal blessing. I will pray that Christ will nourish you, without
physical communion. Christ can do that. Just bow your head when I come to you.
This
prayer we pray now is so important for lots of reasons. I am going to mention
two. At the heart of it, we do something. We take and bless bread
and wine (I do it on behalf of us all). This is because Jesus at his Last
Supper told us to do something. And it is good to pray by doing something. It’s
not all about our minds and our words and our hearing. We do what he told us
to do.
And
the other reason I’ve already mentioned. This is the great prayer of
thanksgiving of the church. If you want the direct route to God – there is
one - if you want the direct route to
God, give thanks.
With
this great thanksgiving, I say most of the words (not all of them) but you are welcome
to join in silently.
If
that seems strange, you are also welcome to let the words wash over you,
and just see where they leave you. That’s perfectly acceptable.
But
if that too is strange for you, just use this time to say your own prayers
of thanks to God. The Church will be praying with you. That is what we are
doing here.
*
Prayer
over the Flowers
Let us pray.
God,
we thank you that you call each one of us to a
unique vocation.
No one else can be the child of yours you call each
one of us to be.
We thank you today for the unique vocation of
motherhood,
and for all mothers,
for all who bear children, and who raise children.
Be with all mothers.
Be with
- all
mothers who are a long way from their children
and all children who are a long way from their mothers; - all
who are struggling to become mothers;
- all
who feel pressure to become mothers, when it is not for them;
- all
who bear disappointment because they cannot be mothers;
- all
who mourn a mother who has died;
- all
who have known too little of motherly love;
- all
who were not able to grow as mothers,
because of the loss of a child for any reason.
Give them strength and consolation.
Be with all whose fruitfulness takes another form.
Help your Church to get it right,
when it comes to knowing and saying what families
are, and are not,
and how nuclear families fit into the wider Church
community,
which, like our schools, is also family.
Bless now these flowers
in the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the
Holy Spirit,
that all who look upon them
and enjoy their scent
will come to trust more firmly
that you are our good Creator
who loves us and calls us, each one of us,
to our own unique nurturing and fruit-bearing
vocation.
Amen.
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