Today, as you know, is Mothers Day.   And I would like to extend warmest Mothers Day wishes to all of you who are mothers.  Motherhood is certainly an essential institution, without which none of us would be here.  And so, to mothers everywhere, we offer up our thanks for our very existence.

     Of course, in most cases, mothers do much more than simply bring us into the world.  The traditional maternal role involves caring for and nurturing children, helping them to grow into responsible adults and parents themselves.  I, for one, am eternally grateful for all the love and care that I have received from my mother, for her support and encouragement through both good times and bad.

     As appreciative as I am of the roles that mothers play, and as important as those roles are, this morning I’d like to take a little broader view.  I want to acknowledge the value of spreading out the responsibility for care and nurture beyond just mothers.  And I want to acknowledge and appreciate those non-mothers who do in fact share that responsibility.  That includes fathers, and so I offer an early “Happy Fathers Day” and a big thank you for the role you fathers have played in your children’s lives.  But the supporting cast includes many others: grandparents, step-parents, friends, neighbors, and more.

     There may or may not be a special biological maternal instinct that specially suits mothers for the role of caring for and protecting their young.  My understanding of biology suggests there probably is.  But that doesn’t relieve the rest of us of responsibility.  And based on my response when I encounter a young, seemingly helpless infant, I think a large part of the caring instinct is human, not just maternal.  And our human capacity for love and compassion call us to contribute wherever and whenever we can to the present and future well-being of the young among us.

     And so, today, even as we celebrate this day set aside for honoring mothers, and as we anticipate next month’s special day for honoring fathers, I call on us to honor the essential roles of mothering and fathering.  And to honor all who give their love and their guidance to those who need it.

     I think particularly of non-traditional families.  Changing times bring with them changing family structures.  There are families like mine, which seem fairly traditional in structure.  We have a mother and a father and two children.  But the family was formed by the non-traditional means of adoption.  Ever since those first nights watching Andy while he slept so peacefully as an infant, it has been impossible for me to imagine that I would have loved my biological offspring any more deeply.  This morning I honor all parents who have built their families through adoption.  I particularly recognize those same-gender couples who have built loving families despite the disapproval, and even persecution, of many of their fellow citizens.

     Some become instant parents when they take partners who already have children.  By accepting those children as their own, and accepting the responsibility of nurturing and raising them – that is, by taking on the role of parents – they may become step-parents in name, but they are, in fact, parents.  And I honor them this morning.

     I also honor single parents this morning, those who, by choice or by circumstance, find themselves taking full responsibility for the care of their children.  Of course, they can’t, and usually don’t, do it alone.  None of us can.  And so I also honor this morning all who share in the mothering and fathering of our children.  That includes grandparents, aunts and uncles, neighbors, teachers, Sunday School teachers, religious communities.

     If it takes a village to raise a child, several villages can probably do it even better.  I would remind you of the Ceremony for the Dedication of Children we shared in this room just a few short weeks ago.  We dedicated ourselves to the active concern for all who need our help.  We pledged to set a good example for those whose ways and habits are yet to be established.  We promised to create a family of faith in which children may grow in to a rich and full life. Mothering and fathering are tasks we all can share.

     And so I honor all of us who offer our love and our guidance to the children of our community, and our support to their parents.

     I must confess to you that I find it difficult to do Mothers Day or Fathers Day sermons.  That’s because behind the truth of the love and guidance most of us have received from our mothers and fathers, there is another truth.  The sad fact is that sometimes parents aren’t fully deserving of honor.  Sometimes they fail us, let us down, disappoint us.  Sometimes parents get so caught up in their own needs and troubles and pain, that they forget what they are doing, or what they are neglecting to do for their children.

     Divorce is a fact of life.  Sometimes relationships deteriorate beyond the possibility of repair, and separation is truly the lesser of two evils.  But the process can be devastating for children, especially if the parents don’t take extreme care to help them understand that they are loved and treasured, and that it’s not about them.

     Teacher Jane Lindstorm tells the story of Tommy’s Essay (Condensed Chicken Soup for the Soul):
 

    Soon Tommy’s parents, who had recently separated, would arrive for a conference on his failing schoolwork and disruptive behavior.  Neither parent knew I had summoned the other.

    Tommy, an only child, had always been happy, cooperative, and an excellent student.  How could I convince his father and mother that his recent failing grades represented a brokenhearted child’s reaction to his adored parents’ separation and pending divorce?

    Tommy’s mother entered and took one of the chairs I had placed near my desk.  Then the father arrived.  They pointedly ignored each other.

    As I gave a detailed account of Tommy’s behavior and schoolwork, I prayed for the right words to . . . help them see what they were doing to their son.  But somehow the words wouldn’t come.  Perhaps if they saw one of his smudged, carelessly done papers.

    I found a crumpled, tear-stained sheet stuffed in the back of his desk.  Writing covered both sides, a single sentence scribbled over and over.

    Silently I smoothed it out and gave it to Tommy’s mother.  She read it and then without a word handed it to her husband.  He frowned.  Then his face softened.  He studied the scrawled words for what seemed an eternity.

    At last he folded the paper carefully and reached for his wife’s outstretched hand.  She wiped the tears from her eyes and smiled up at him.

    The words that I couldn’t find were on that sheet of yellow copy paper covered with the anguished outpouring of a small boy’s troubled heart.

    “Dear Mother . . . Dear Daddy . . . I love you . . . I love you . .  I love you.”
 

     Not all parental failures involve separation or divorce.  Sometimes parents are disappointed when their children’s lives don’t fit expected patterns – success in school, choice of career, choice of mate.  And sometimes they give in to that disappointment and withdraw their love and support.

     Such parental abdication may well grow out of the parents’ own pain and disappointment.  But my heart breaks for the pain and devastation experienced by the one abandoned and left parentless.  That pain cries out for mothering and fathering – for love and guidance – from other sources.  That’s where extended family, or friends, or religious community can be life savers.

     Unfortunately the story is sometimes even grimmer yet.  Not only parents fall short.  Sometimes those who serve in roles explicitly calling for love and guidance fail as well.  As we read report after report of child sexual abuse by Roman Catholic priests, our hearts can’t help but break for the children and families whose lives are severely damaged by the betrayal of their trust.  They now need not only love and guidance, but also healing.  And lest we become too smug, let us understand that the sickness that leads to such behavior is not a Catholic sickness; it’s a human sickness.  No denomination, no organization, is immune, and we must be vigilant in order to keep our children safe.

     For those of you who have suffered from abuse, or neglect, or from a failure of love in the recent or distant past, and who still feel the pain, I reach out to you in love.  I know others here extend caring arms as well.  As we sang earlier this morning, “There is more love somewhere.”  I believe there is more love right here.

     I invite all of you to take a few moments now to reflect on those who have loved and nurtured you when you needed it the most.  Whether it was parents, or other family, or friends, teachers, neighbors.  Think about them and offer up thanks . . .

     As you experience feelings of gratitude for the love and guidance, the mothering and fathering you have received, please do one more thing.  Pass it on.