"Family: where the rubber of faith meets the road"
Mothers mirror God's love.
Sermon Preached by
The Reverend Dr. Andrew Stirling
Sunday, May 8, 2005
Text: Proverbs 31:10-31; I Corinthians 13
It was May 1975 when the telephone rang in my father's office at the church he was serving at the time in Minto, New Brunswick. The phone call was for my grandfather, who was visiting with us from the United Kingdom. The woman at the other end of the phone had a foreign accent, but a familiar name. It was Mrs. Skiforce. Now, Mrs. Skiforce was a woman who my grandparents had spoken of many times - they shared a deep and a personal friendship that had lasted more than 35 years. Mrs. Skiforce always called my grandfather, or he called her, at this very time of the year.
Their friendship dated back to the war. Mrs. Skiforce lived in Leevenhorst in Holland, and my grandfather had been working in Holland, helping build a mill for the year before the fall of Holland, May 15, 1940 just before the war reached its peak for the Dutch, and occupation was looming, the Skiforce family took my grandfather in. Knowing that he was a British citizen and knowing that their land would soon be occupied, they went out of their way to make sure my grandfather could find a way back to England. Through a number of sources, they enabled my grandfather to get on a boat back to the United Kingdom and safety. He got out of Holland about two weeks before the fall and the Occupation.
Mrs. Skiforce, naturally then, had a very fond place in my grandfather's memory and in my grandfather's life. More than that, according to my grandfather, Mrs. Skiforce was a unique woman, a woman of immense courage. You see, during the five years of the Occupation, her husband died. The stress of the Occupation was too much for him, and his heart failed. He left behind three children, two sons and a daughter. Two of the sons were affected by the Occupation, and one of them was caught in crossfire in Nijmegan and wounded terribly.
For the next 30 years, Mrs. Skiforce had to nurse her son every day. Her whole life revolved around this young man who was cut down in the prime of his life. Therefore, whenever Mrs. Skiforce and my grandfather spoke, it was an immensely emotional and deeply meaningful encounter. My grandfather commented that he felt it was a great irony, even a great privilege, that this time he was receiving the phone call while in Canada, the country that had ultimately been responsible for the liberation of Holland.
The stories of the Mrs. Skiforces, though, are legion. She was unique in one sense, but she was the foundation of her family and that is not unique. Throughout the world, mothers are the foundations of so many families. In his talk to the Churches on the Hill last September on AIDS in Africa, Stephen Lewis said that if you look at the plight of the world and you look at the countries that are ravaged by AIDS, it is mothers, and very often grandmothers (because the mothers have died) who are responsible for looking after the children. When it seems that the world is on shaky ground, as if built on a foundation of sand, it is mothers who are the strength. It is mothers who are the source that keep things together and keep people together.
Mothers are the foundations of so many families. Many of them are single, bringing up their children on their own. Throughout the eons, throughout the centuries, mothers have been foundational to the structure of the family and to family life. Now, do not get me wrong: I do not wish to beatify mothers. Not all mothers are perfect, saintly angels. In fact, none are. You are all nodding just a little bit. No, indeed, mothers cannot be beatified; but that does not mean that they are not foundational.
A lovely Mother's Day card a couple of years ago left an indelible imprint on my mind. It was of a little boy, dirty, straggly, bleeding, goo all over him, pulling a little cart. His shirt was ripped, there was mud all over the cart, and his laces were untied. On the front of the card it said “Mother, I want to thank you for being an example, and always remembering me in your prayers.” Then, inside it said “Mother, this is the prayer I remember you speaking every single day: ”˜God help you if you ever do that again!'” Foundational, but not perfect! Strong, important, mothers are in so many ways a foundation in our lives.
I asked myself this morning, “What text I can bring to bear, what word does God have to speak to us as we celebrate our mothers and our families? What can we say and what can we hear to help us?” Well, how about our text from 1 Corinthians? It is like an old piece of clothing, a pair of floppy jeans or a baggy T-shirt that you put on when you do not know what else to wear, and you feel comfortable. Yes, 1 Corinthians 13 is one of those texts! It is the sort of text that you pull out if anyone asks you to read something from the Bible. If you are going to bury somebody, well, what works? 1 Corinthians 13! If you are marrying somebody, what are you going to read? 1 Corinthians 13! If you don't know what to preach on Mother's Day, 1 Corinthians 13!
But there is more than that. There is a depth and a power to these words, and there is a reason why they are so powerful. They speak of the centrality and the importance of God's love. I put the emphasis on God's love. There are within this jewel of a text a few verses that speak to mothers and families, and to all of us. It says that love bears all things; love believes all things; love hopes for all things; love endures all things; and that God's love never ends.
I think that families and mothers need to be invigorated, need to be inspired by these words: “Love bears all things.” What does this mean? Well, if you look at the Greek, the word for “bears” is the word “stego,” which literally means “to cover” or “to protect:” not only to bear a burden, but also to provide a cover, a protection - it is both - and love, the love of God, is there to support and to protect and to nurture. What better image could there be for motherhood than that phrase? “Love bears all things.”
Within it, undergirding it, is an assumption of Christ. For Paul, it is a belief that love is manifested in Christ, and that the cross is nothing more and nothing less than God's bearing for us. That the cross is God's covering us with grace and with forgiveness; that it is like, as Jesus said, his yolk, taking our burdens upon himself. When we are unable to handle things ourselves, there is the cross. When there is sin for which we cannot forgive, there is the cross. When there is the weight of the world's concerns upon us, there is the cross. Where there is danger, there is the cross. Where there is pain, there is the cross. It is the love that bears all things.
My friends, there are many times when the burdens of being part of a family are very great. There is the burden of a parent caring for a child. There is the burden of a spouse caring for a spouse, and, now ever more so, as people live longer, there is the burden of children caring for their parents. It is a mutual relationship, but the need to bear, the need to lift up, the need to protect is a godly calling. The need to be there to support and to strengthen is a godly command. “Love bears all things” is a reality. It is a statement of the way things are. It is also a statement of the way things should be. As Christians, we understand that within the context of our families, many of which are broken, many of which are in pain, many of which are sore, there is the need to be the love that bears all things.
I am sure many of you will have read the Toronto Star article written on Louise Russo. This woman was caught in a crossfire of bullets that went into her back and paralyzed her. In a moment of near death, a moment when she really felt she had almost passed to the other side, this woman, who is a devout Roman Catholic, who believes deeply in heaven, had a profound experience. The very thing that held her to this life, the very thing that kept her grounded in this existence, even though she felt a profound sense of peace that there was something more, was the love of her children. She said:
I just thought about my daughter Krista. I didn't want her to see me die. I wanted so hard as a mum to go out and comfort her that night, that just worrying about her being alone and wanting to reach out to her when she was so frightened, the fear on her face when she walked into the shop, and the scream in her voice will never be erased from my mind.
Then, she said, “I had another reason - a deeper reason.” She continued that she and her husband, Sam, have a severely disabled daughter, Jenna, who is 17. Jenna has a serious congenital neuromuscular disorder. This woman, who remembered being shot, who is paralyzed, who is in pain, said, “I couldn't leave Jenna. Jenna is very difficult to leave. I have still so much to do. She needs me 24 hours a day. I am her primary caregiver.” She speaks of her son, 20 years old, attending York University, worried about the effect this would have on him. She asks, “Does a mother ever rest?” The answer is “No!” Yet, she said, “I have a peace within me that I never had before. I feel very blessed.”
Louise Russo's role as a mother caused her to come back from wherever she was, even though the voice did say it would be a long and a painful journey for her if she chose to come back; it would be painful yes, but not impossible. Here is a woman, a mother, who in her moment of greatest suffering, still wanted to carry the burdens of her children. This is not just a natural instinct. This is not just some biological response, as Louise Russo knows. It is something more. It is love. It is the love of God. It is the love that bears all things. Abraham Lincoln said, “No one can be poor if they have a godly mother.” He is right. Love, in its purest form, bears all things.
However, love also hopes for all things, and endures all things. Love is hopeful. I mean what family, at its very nugget, its very kernel, is not a believer in the future? What is love if it cannot bear the burdens of today in anticipation of tomorrow? Hope is an incredible force. It has a powerful, powerful hold. It causes us to look to the future. It causes us to look beyond ourselves with others to what might lie ahead. It can keep us going, even in the most difficult of times. Even when bearing the greatest burdens, hope can keep us alive. It is not just hope as wishful thinking; it is hope based on the theory of God. It is the hope that looks to the future, knowing that the future is in God's hands. It is the hope of the cross that knows the weight of having to bear the burdens of the world, but bearing them in order that God's grace might be victorious. It is hope that keeps people going.
In the wonderful book First Drafts, there is a letter written by a young soldier called Morgan, who was part of the Canadian liberation forces in Holland. On May 8, 1945, at the end of the war, he arrived in one town where people were so poor and so emaciated that they didn't know where to put themselves. The troops coming in had food, and they were sorry for the people who had none, so they shared it with them:
As I came out of the Stathaus, a dozen or 15 young men were standing around my Jeep longing to do something, to sing, to shout, to shake my hand. As I was about to climb in, I saw the cardboard box with the remains of our lunch - sandwiches and pie. If these men were hungry, would it be resented? I asked a man who seemed to be a leader, was this of any use to them?
He looked into the box, and he stared at me incredulously, ”˜Any use?' He climbed on to the bonnet of the Jeep and began to break the sandwiches into little bits to give each man. They crowded forward then, reaching up so that he had to remove them from the hood of the vehicle, and then went on doling out the little shares. They ate slowly, relishing every crumb, licking at their hands to get the last taste. Some got sandwiches, some pie, but all had something, relishing it, smacking their lips, and raising a little chorus of ”˜Dat is heerlijk! Dat is lekker!' Delicious! Lovely!
Many soldiers had similar experiences that first day. In the days that followed, to many Dutch people, the very taste of liberty remained for a long time a mouthful of good bread or pastry, such as they had almost forgotten. It is amazing how hope can keep people alive; how freedom and the desire for something better can keep you going. When you taste it, you don't forget it!
My friends, the love of God is like that in our daily lives. It is like that in our homes. It is like that in our relationships. It is the hope and the love that bears all things, that gives of itself for others. This day, we remember those who gave of their lives in order that the hope of a nation, Holland, and the hope of a continent, Europe, might be realized. We remember the mothers who make sacrifices for their children every day, and give them hope for a better tomorrow. We think of the love of God, and God's burden for the world and its families, and we hope for a better day, for hope and love are indivisible.
John Killinger wrote a magnificent piece that sounds like a statement of faith. I've read it many times over the last few years, especially since the death of my own mother:
I believe in Jesus Christ, the Son of the living God, who was born of the promise to a virgin named Mary. I believe in the love Mary gave her Son, that caused her to follow him in his ministry and stand by his Cross as he died. I believe in the love of all mothers, and its importance in the lives of the children they bear. It is stronger than steel, softer than down, and more resilient than a green sapling on the hillside. It closes wounds, melts disappointments, and enables the weakest child to stand tall and straight in the fields of adversity. I believe that this love, even at its best, it is only a shadow of the love of God, a dark reflection of all that we can expect of Him, both in this life and the next. And I believe that one of the most beautiful sights in the world is a mother who lets this greater love flow through her to her child, blessing the world with the tenderness of her touch and the tears of her joy.
Love bears all things; believes all things; hopes all things; endures all things: for love never ends. Amen.
This is a verbatim transcription of the original sermon.