The Treasure of Our Mothers
by Rev. Cory Coberforward
Readings
Psalm 139:11-16 (responsive reading for live service)
If I say, “Surely the darkness will hide me
and the light become night around me,”
even the darkness will not be dark to you;
the night will shine like the day,
for darkness is as light to you.
For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother’s womb.
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
your works are wonderful,
I know that full well.
My frame was not hidden from you
when I was made in the secret place,
when I was woven together in the depths of the earth.
Your eyes saw my unformed body;
all the days ordained for me were written in your book
before one of them came to be.
Luke 2:41-51
Every year Jesus’ parents went to Jerusalem for the Festival of the Passover. When he was twelve years old, they went up to the festival, according to the custom. After the festival was over, while his parents were returning home, the boy Jesus stayed behind in Jerusalem, but they were unaware of it. Thinking he was in their company, they traveled on for a day. Then they began looking for him among their relatives and friends. When they did not find him, they went back to Jerusalem to look for him. After three days they found him in the temple courts, sitting among the teachers, listening to them and asking them questions. Everyone who heard him was amazed at his understanding and his answers. When his parents saw him, they were astonished. His mother said to him, “Son, why have you treated us like this? Your father and I have been anxiously searching for you.”
“Why were you searching for me?” he asked. “Didn’t you know I had to be in my Father’s house?” But they did not understand what he was saying to them. Then he went down to Nazareth with them and was obedient to them. But his mother treasured all these things in her heart.
Read the written message below with music videos
Our mothers treasure our lives in their hearts, often there as a listening ear and a loving, wise presence. Even if we can’t relate to that statement, the motherly love and light of the universe is with us whether we know it or not, not part and parcel with our very own consciousness and inner light. The motherly ones in our lives often feel like a warm hug with their caring and spacious personalities, and often this is because they truly do treasure us – we have much to learn from that kind of life and that kind of love.
It's true, sometimes our moms let us down, but far more often it is us who are not living up to our mothers’ loving hopes for us. In our scripture reading about Christ running away as a child today, one might assume that his mother Mary would be unshakably scared, sad, and disappointed that her son would just disappear as he did at the age of 12, but after hearing his wisdom in the temple and in response to her concerns, we’re told that she “treasured all these things in her heart.” Our mothers often look past our foibles and issues to see the light of God at our hearts, which is a priceless gift as it reminds us of the great treasure at the heart of every being – even us in our mistakes.
If mothers sometimes take their open forgiveness too far, allowing us to slide on things seemingly needing of more retribution, it’s only because the world often does the opposite – seeking retribution and punishment when something gentler and wiser is better. Of course, sometimes our moms are part of the heavy-handed nature of our society’s enforcement of custom and “good behaviour,” but even so, this can often be a gift as our mothers are our first models of the outside world, often teaching us the hard lessons before we have to learn them the truly hard way.
Indeed, it is wisdom laced with love that can be said to be the most eternally gifting attribute our mothers provide (that is, after life itself)! With their presence alone we learn something of what it means to just be, to be there for others, to create safe and supportive space, and to nourish ourselves and others on every level. The embrace of our mothers lasts far beyond any physical embrace, and it can truly be said to be one of the most profound gifts and images of God that we can conceive of.
Of course, childbirth itself should be greatly heralded, even if it falls beyond our personal memory of our life’s journey. Without it there’s no life at all. What a gift of sacrifice and love it is, and a beautiful expression of the courage, strength, compassion, and fortitude that our mothers have. Even when it is embraced with joy and thanksgiving, there’s still the challenge of pain, endurance, mystery, and the like. And today in the U.S., with the possible eradication of Roe v. Wade, the sacrifice it may mean to even try to have a child is especially stark and quite a horrendous burden not knowing if you will be able to have a life-saving abortion or not.
Perhaps it is because they’ve gone through such trials to find vast joy and love that our mothers treasure us and our light even amidst further trials and heartache at times. It seems as though our mothers sense the passing nature of the setbacks and challenges, to the great light that is life itself and the love in the midst of it.
My own mother exemplifies this for me, as I was often a rowdy kid, particularly until the age of 11. Fights on the playground were a mainstay for me, I wasn’t a fan of being made fun of or ganged up on and didn’t mind brawling with a few boys at a time. It was my mother who was counted upon to teach responsibility and forbearance, among other things, to her two rambunctious sons in our three-person household. She also often took us to school or around via the city bus and had to endure and respond to all the antics we did along the way.
I can’t imagine that journey for her. The years raising her two children, while also working and making ends meet, expressing her own interests, loves, and artistry along the way. Our mothers sacrifice of themselves so much and serve as a model of this for us too, which is perhaps why Christ was willing to do the same in order to express to us the meaning of love, life, and family without borders.
Perhaps this is why Mother Mary is considered so holy among so many people, particularly most Catholics. Often called the Virgin Mary, despite evidence to the contrary (the Bible’s listing of Jesus’ brothers, among other things), Mary is venerated because her example led to his! And she also serves for many of those people who pray to and venerate her as a clear reminder of what we might call the more feminine aspect of Divinity, something that feels often lacking from a more patriarchal lens and culture.
We’ve explored in the past the various places that the Bible describes God using female examples, such as a mother hen, and there are many texts across the traditions that sometimes more clearly emphasize Goddess, including Swedenborg’s own spiritual writings. Some would like to forget that men and women were both made in the image of God, but how sorrowful it is to forget that God is exemplified in the strongest, most giving people in our lives, our mothers, and that their various “feminine” aspects are so clearly gifted from the Divine because where else could such infinity come from?
All too often we strive to put God in a box and put him in our pocket, not realizing that if God is infinite goodness and reality itself, how could God be a distant object to diagnose and swallow? Our sages tell us that to actually know God we must realize that we are already one with God, and in the process drop our identification with our lower, rattling mind, all too ready to get into a fight even if just with itself. Our mothers and mother-figures start to teach us to accept the mystery of a creator, because in their motherly presence alone we have a shining example of a giving being beyond our ability to comprehend, which is why we often take them for granted. But as we learn, hopefully we start to truly treasure them in our hearts, remembering and celebrating their wisdom beyond words and the Divinity that shines through their very being, reminding us that Goddess shines through each of us as well.
Peace is you,
Rev. Cory