Greet Rufus, chosen in the Lord; also his mother, who has been a mother to me as well. (Romans 16:13)
Mother’s Day is here – let’s show some love for all the moms! I want to honor Melissa, not only for giving birth to our two sons, but for the long term momming that went into raising a son with special needs to adulthood. (re: the picture – no, he doesn’t drink. It was just a milestone to celebrate his 21st birthday in a place that required him to reach 21. Strictly a burger run).
I know from years of church experience that piling on the Mother’s Day sentiment can have unintended consequences. Women who are not birth moms, or who can’t be, or who lost a child, or who are estranged from their kids might perceive a “second class female” label being slapped on them when church services set aside the Gospel and function more like a Hallmark holiday.
I don’t think that means we should eliminate Mothers Day but we should be aware of its limits. Giving birth is not the only value to a woman’s existence and, frankly, there’s more to being a mom than giving birth and having a baby shower. We need to watch out for romanticizing and minimizing what should be serious, sacrificial and lifelong effort. (Motherhood in this fullest sense is quite Christ-like).
The full expression of motherhood involves care giving. I’ve watched Melissa’s role continually evolve as our boys age. She’s always their care giver, even as they grow in adult independence. She continues to be a source of “home” for them, even across distance.
I quoted Saint Paul at the top of these thoughts. In an easy-to-skip ending to one of his letters, where he’s writing a lot of “Say ‘Hi’ to so-and-so” pleasantries, he mentions a fellow Christian named Rufus and then asks his readers to greet Rufus’ unnamed mother, who, Paul writes, has been a mother to me as well.
What form this took we don’t know. We know that Paul’s ministry kept him on the road; perhaps Rufus’ mom gave the Apostle a sense of home base and family when he visited Rome. Paul mentions ailments in some of his letters; perhaps Rufus’ mom gave him respite and comfort. And Paul’s life was full of hardships and hostile confrontations; perhaps the mothering he received from this unnamed woman was in simple hospitality, human warmth and affirming words when they crossed paths. In a world that beat Paul physically and emotionally, this lady’s glad hug and smiling “Welcome back, stranger!” would have been the medicine of motherly love (I remember the days when our kids seemed to get better from bugs by just sitting on Melissa’s lap for a bit.)
In her book Teaching Diamonds in the Tough, Cleo Lampos includes a chapter entitled To The Other Mother. She lauds those who step in to give care in ways that make them mothers to the world’s needy children of all ages,
In our family, my Aunt Lois served as our unofficial foster care system. At one time or another, Aunt Lois took care of most of my cousins for varying lengths of time and for differing reasons. Her frame house in mid-Iowa became a refuge for my sister and me for over a year as my mother battled with an alcoholic husband in another state. Aunt Lois provided stability and protection at a time when my sister and I displayed emotional signs from abuse. She infused us with hope because we had lost ours. Aunt Lois became “our other mother.”
To women like… Aunt Lois, a lot of adults owe debts of gratitude that can never be paid. The “other mother” saved our lives.
So I take this Mother’s Day on the calendar to give thanks for all of the mothers on the job out there; those like Melissa who gave birth and continue to nurture those lives decades later, and to all the “other mothers” who give care and bring forth new life when others have the blues…