No one casts a longer shadow throughout the course of one’s life than a mother. Will all our mothers stand? We honor and celebrate you for the sheltering shade of those shadows.
Back in the mid‑1950’s Theodor Geisel railed and revolted against the boringly banal primers forced on first time readers. His books, penned under the now famous name of “Dr. Seuss,” transformed reading to our little ones from dull and dreary tales of “Dick and Jane” to the lyrical fun of “The Cat in the Hat.”
Adding to this new literary library was a protégé of the Dr. Seuss style, the books of P.D. Eastman. His “classics” in this new children’s literature include “Go, Dog, Go,” “One Fish, Two fish, Red Fish, Blue Fish,” and especially, my favorite, “Are You My Mother?”
Just in case you did not get the chance to read “Are You My Mother?” aloud six hundred times over the course of your children’s childhood, it is the simple story of a baby bird who hatches out of his egg while his mother is off the nest. The little bird falls out and promptly sets off looking to find his missing mom. Having no clue what his mother may look like, the fledgling approaches dogs and cats, trucks and boats, and finally a huge steam shovel (who deftly dumps him safely back into his nest), earnestly asking each one, “Are you my mother?”
We all crave a mother’s presence and pine for a mother’s love. This Sunday, the second Sunday in May, has been officially designated as “Mother’s Day” since May 9, 1914. But in England as far back as the 1600’s there has been a tradition of a “Mothering Sunday.” Originally born out of the Catholic celebrations of Mary, the Mother of Christ, the English “Mothering Sunday” allowed poor women who worked and lived as servants in wealthy households a day off to return home and be with their own families.
It is fitting that “Mother’s Day” is designated as a Sunday celebration. For though we do not refer to this imagery very much anymore, we are gathered together this day in our “Mother Church.” St. Cyprian, a third century African bishop, said it is impossible to have God as our Father if we do not have the church as our mother. We don’t worship the church, and we do worship Christ. But as access to God is primarily thru Christ, and the body of Christ is the church, so the old ship of Zion is our Mothership.
If we are all “adopted children of God through Christ,” we have our spiritual re‑birth through the ongoing presence and witness of the church. All who gather in Christ’s name and in loving obedience to his commandments establish a womb for gestating discipleship and for birthing new generations of Christians — brothers and sisters in Christ. What better place to celebrate “Mother’s Day” than in the Mother Church, the community that exists because of Christ’s love and the community that spreads Christ’s love to the world.
Today’s gospel text is all about creating that intimate “family” connection that binds together the odd assortment Jesus collected to be his disciples. Other than a couple of brothers there was no bloodline, no genealogy to hold fast these first believers. So Jesus offered them the image of a “family tree” — except this “Tree of Life” was not some mighty cedar or oak. It was instead a “vine” — a sinuous, growing, spreading, entwining organism whose ultimate purpose was to “bear fruit.”
Dozens of websites now offer all sorts of online historical help so we can trace our ancestral roots, our “family tree.” But for those of us gathered in the body of Christ, in the nurture and nourishment of “Mother Church,” we need look only one place to find our family tree. We are living out our faith as branches on the Tree of Life, growing out of the origins of divinely gifted life, the incarnation of Christ, the covenant of faith, and of God’s continued, living relationship with this world.
In today’s gospel text Jesus tells his disciples that it is only by “abiding” in him, that is only in following his commandment to “love one another,” that they will fully participate in God’s love — a love so great that it laid down the life of the Beloved Son for our sake.
But this “abiding” isn’t defined by “just sitting around.” “Abiding” in Jesus means being “fruitful.” “Abiding” in Jesus means producing and then reproducing the love of Christ in our own lives and in the lives of a new generation. “Abiding” in Jesus means growing new “branches” within this vineyard of faith. There is a Robert Frost poem entitled “Leaves Compared with Flowers.”
A tree’s leaves my be ever so good
so may its bark, so may its wood;
But unless you put the right thing to its root
It will never show much flower or fruit.
One of Spring’s most artful and alluring plants is the wisteria. A twining, vining, winding shrub, it can be trained up on and over porches, doorways, trellises, and towers. In spring the vines drip and drape with clusters of grape‑like blooms. The greenery grows up as the flowers cascade down. Louis Comfort Tiffany immortalized the stunning stylish beauty of a flowering wisteria in dozens of his stained glass creations. But in order to get those gorgeous grape‑like clusters of blooms, there must be a male and female wisteria in close proximity to each other. Otherwise all you get is green. Lots of lush, lovely leaves, but not one flower. No flowers mean no seeds. And no seeds mean no fruit.
Every living thing has its own requirements for fertility. Robert Frost’s poem highlights the fact that even though a tree might appear lush and healthy, “unless you put the right thing to its root,” its fruitfulness is doomed.
As in a flower, the female becomes the fruit, where the seeds are housed. The Jewish line is passed on through the mother. God’s directive to “Be Fruitful and Multiple” is a core part of the covenant. We cannot have a “Mother Church” without continuing to have offspring — without “flower or fruit.” And the fruit we are commanded by Christ to generate is proclaiming the love of God for all the world, which seeds Jesus’ life, death, and resurrection throughout the world.
Jesus is the “root” that keeps our family tree healthy and flowering. When the “Mother Church” forgets that witnessing to Christ’s love is the foundation of its faith, the nourishment for its roots, it loses its ability to produce fruit. For a while such a “family tree” might continue to appear healthy, even lush with extra leaves and broad branches. But its fruitlessness spells its doom. There is no such thing as a “born Christian,” only “born‑again” Christians. Every new generation of believers must be grown from a seed that is planted by those who are nurtured by Mother Church today.
A traveler found himself lost on a quiet country road. He stopped at a farmhouse to ask for directions. An elderly woman sat on the front porch, rocking quietly and contentedly. A younger gentleman was working around the front yard, whistling non-stop. The whistling was loud and clear, a stringing together of one song after another.
As the lost traveler approached the whistler for directions, he greeted him with a smile and observation: “I’ve been enjoying your whistling.”
“Oh, it’s second nature with me now.”
Then pointing to the woman on the porch, he said, “That’s my mother. A few years ago she lost her eyesight. Blindness became a very frightening experience for her, and she was feeling very insecure. So I moved her in with us. I figured if I just keep whistling when I’m outside the house, working on the lawn or whatever, she’ll know I’m still with her.”
The world is desperate to wet its whistle on the cup salvation. It needs to drink the Living Water of Christ’s love.
Will you start whistling?
You won’t be just Whistling Dixie. You’ll be Whistling Jesus.
COMMENTARY
This week’s gospel text is really the second half of a longer unit (15:1-17). Jesus, the master of metaphor, uses the image of the vine, the branches, and the vine grower to talk about the qualities of a right relationship between God, Jesus, and Jesus’ disciples. As he continues, however, Jesus moves away from the metaphor in order to make explicit that the “fruitfulness” expected by the Father is no less than the love and obedience that Jesus himself has shown to the world.
The utter intimacy and uttermost connectedness of the love extended from the Father to the Son is the source of Jesus’ own love for his disciples. “Abiding” in this love is what will make the disciples “family members,” that is, they will share in the matchless union between God the Father and Jesus the Son. This “abiding” (“menein”), a word we have lost in contemporary speech but need to reclaim, is not some form of passive acquiescence. Rather, it requires disciples to take a specific course of action — to “keep my commandments” (v.10). Just as Jesus’ love for the Father was demonstrated by his perfect obedience to God’s will, even to the cross, so Jesus’ disciples are to demonstrate their love for him by remaining obedient to his commandment.
This obedience, Jesus asserts, is not a burden. It is not some nonstop series of trials and tests. It is rather what will enable his disciples to experience complete “joy.” Through their obedience Jesus’ disciples will participate in Jesus’ own “joy” and their own “joy may be complete” as they continue to “abide” in his love.
In verse 12 the “obedience” Jesus demands is made explicit — to keep his commandment that his disciples “love one another as I have loved you.” “Abiding” in Jesus’ love and so participating in the love that flows between the Father and the Son will be demonstrated by an outpouring of that love which will cover and coat one another in love.
The depth and breadth of this love is made clear by Jesus who speaks with the imminence of the cross in plain sight — “to lay down one’s life for one’s friends” (v.13). The sacrifice Jesus is about to make, laying down his own life for their sake, is to be the template for the love all Jesus’ disciples are to show. Lest we think that this command to offer sacrificial love for “one’s friends” is a watered down version of directives given elsewhere (Matthew 5:43-47) to show love for one’s enemy, it would be good to recall that in this context Jesus is speaking to his own disciples. He is addressing his “friends” and laying out the basis for the obedience he demands of them. Furthermore, among these “friends” still stands Judas Iscariot, the one who will betray Jesus, as well as Simon Peter, the one who will deny him. These “enemies” and “betrayers” are the “friends” for which Jesus will offer his sacrifice.
In the Old Testament only Abraham (2 Chronicles 20:7; Isaiah 4:18) and Moses (Exodus 33:11) are called “friends” of God. Now Jesus “re-names” his disciples and declares “I have called you friends” (v.15). It is by showing obedience to Jesus, by following his commandment to “love one another” that followers become “friends.” Note that the text does not say Jesus is a “friend” to those who love and obey him, but rather that the love he extends to his disciples and the sacrifice he offers for their salvation elevates them from “servant” to “friend.”
As John’s gospel frequently makes clear, there is no personal greatness on the part of these disciples that in some way “earns” them this new status. Jesus’ pre-eminence and authority are immediately reassured as he declares, “you did not choose me but I choose you.” This “chosenness” is not simply a state of being. It is a state of purpose. Jesus chooses his disciples, these “friends,” for a mission: “to go and bear fruit, fruit that will last.”
This mention of “fruitfulness” reintroduces the vine and branches metaphor and grafts it on to a missionizing message. Those who abide in Jesus’ love and offer obedience to his commandment to love are called to “go and bear fruit.” This “going” is to spread the gospel of the love and joy that is available through “abiding” in Jesus. For Jesus his “friends” will always be on the move, demonstrating their obedience by offering Jesus’ love to the world.