A Mother's Day Homily

Healthy Mothers, Healthy Families, Healthy Planet

Katey Zeh

May 5, 2010

General Board of Church & Society

A reading from the Gospel of John 10:10: “I have come that they may have life, and have it abundantly.”

“These are free?!” I heard this hundreds of times last week at the United Methodist Women’s Assembly. Literally thousands of women walked by my booth in the exhibit hall, some who merely wanted a piece of free candy or to add a Healthy Families, Healthy Planet button to their pin collection. They were very welcome to do so. Some genuinely wanted to talk about the state of the world for mothers. But many of them were there for these—our original “Healthy Mother’s Day cards,” an idea of mine that Michelle helped make a truly beautiful reality. Women would admire one of the cards, and ask “How much is this?” I was delighted to tell them that there was no charge and to please take one. They were shocked! Some would ask if they could make a donation, and I would say, ‘Would you write your member of Congress about the importance of family planning?”

But not everyone was so eager to take a card. Many of the women would say sadly, “But I don’t have a mother.” My general response was to ask them to think more broadly—did they have daughters, daughters-in-law, sisters, church members? “Oh yes, I think I’ll take one.” It was such fun, handing out these beautiful cards and thinking that on this Mother’s Day women all over the country will be getting “Healthy Mother’s Day” cards and perhaps for just a moment will be thinking of women for whom it is not a safe, healthy world to be a mother.

But that response haunted me, “I don’t have a mother.” I heard this over and over, some women who clearly lost their mom years ago. But for others the wound was fresh. It pained them to say it. I felt their abandonment, their deep sense of loss, even their anger. Even though I’ve been working on the issue of maternal mortality for months, it had not struck me in this deep way until then. I began to question the cards. Were they insensitive? These women were here for joy, and here I was, reminding them of what they didn’t have.

In the face of pain, the impulse to flee is a strong one, isn’t it? I hated the idea that something as beautiful as this card could cause so much pain. And rather than experience the discomfort of meeting these women in their grief, there was part of me that really wanted to get rid of the source of it.

I don’t have a mother. More than 1 million children this year will join that wailing chorus of the motherless. Their mothers will die giving birth, usually from preventable causes, and these children will have to face the harsh reality of this cruel world without her protection and love, for many with no memory of her at all.

“Sometimes I feel like a motherless child.” That song kept running through my head.

I remember the first time I heard the image of God as a Mother. It made me uncomfortable. Even though I was a full-blown feminist at that point, I couldn’t get past the masculine language for God. It wasn’t until I began reading the medieval mystic Julian of Norwich and her understanding of Christ as mother that it began to really resonate with me. The more I thought about it, the more sense it made. What more beautifully embodies the sacrament of the Eucharist, of Christ’s offering of himself, than of a mother giving birth, her giving of her blood to bring new life? Of a mother nursing her infant, sharing of her own body to nourish and protect that life? “Take and eat, this is my body, given for you.”

We ought to be in awe of mothers. Few things in this world are as sacred as this.

In my thinking about maternal health and the church, I initially had trouble with connecting it biblically, perhaps because I was looking for something more literal. Mothers in the bible are often nameless and for the most part disregarded, known only for the men whom they gave birth to. But as I began to think of women, how they are struggling to survive, how no matter where they live, they have the same desires for healthy lives for their families and themselves, that they weren’t simply wombs that need tending to, I thought of Jesus talking about abundant life. Jesus did not come only so we could survive, but that we might thrive, flourish, bloom. God wants more for this world than families who can remain alive; God’s desire is for families that can sustain themselves and grow and persevere. To have abundant lives.

The motherless women I encountered last week had something profound to show me. Through their own pain and loss, they perhaps are the ones who can truly identify with the motherless children of the world. They are the ones who can value and honor mothers in a way that I cannot. This Mother’s Day may we remember the motherless children, old and young, privileged and marginalized. And let us give thanks and pray to the God who mothers us all for a world full of healthy mothers, healthy families, and a healthy planet. Amen.