I’ve rolled into church many a Mother’s Day morning with a heavy heart and deflated expectations. There were years of singleness, and then miscarriage, when I felt invisible in the pew, wondering if I would ever wear the title of “mother” myself. Then came holidays where I felt steamrolled by the demands of raising babies and toddlers—when this “high and holy calling” felt a little too hard and hopeless. There were Mother’s Days spent missing those who had poured maternal care into my heart or weeping with friends in their losses. And, of course, there have been the oft-repeated years of feeling a little too underappreciated and unpampered in my home, for a day that was supposedly all about honoring me (unrelatable, I know).
No matter how we each show up any given year—parent or child or somewhere in between, happily celebrating mothering relationships or grieving deeply broken ones—Mother’s Day often inhabits a uniquely tender, tenuous space. While lifting up a cultural ideal of love and flowers and sweet, smiling faces, we’re often navigating experiences that fall far short. Where’s the hope when your relationship with a mother brought pain or when you’re not the mom you hoped to be yourself?
Mothering Modeled
As Scripture unpacks the deeply personal love of God for his children, it often does so in maternal terms. He is, for example, likened in the Old Testament to a birther (Deut. 32:18; Isa. 42:14) or a nursing mother (Isa. 49:15)—one who will never forget his young. Christ then arrives on the scene in the New Testament to paint this picture for us in full color. Caring daily for weak and wounded little ones throughout his earthly ministry, Jesus is like a protective hen gathering a brood under the wing (Matt. 23:37; Luke 13:34). He is constantly shielding and shepherding his children, laying himself down at great expense for their flourishing.
All of this imagery illustrates God’s design for the mothering relationship—to be one of intimacy and constant, life-giving sacrifice and support. When we experience the nurturing of a good mom, it’s a window into the better, truer love and care of our Savior. And when our examples of motherhood in this life break down—when we experience loss or neglect or rifts in relationships—we can hide ourselves under the wing of God, who promises never to let us fall from his nest. We can look to the nurturing ministry of his Spirit to heal and hold our hearts in the here-and-now, and we can anticipate with hope a future of being enfolded by his presence eternally. The tender Savior who walked among us once—counseling, correcting, and caring—will return to do so again forever.
Mothering in Our Midst
While we live in this space still awaiting Christ’s return, though, we aren’t left without tangible expressions of his continued care. Charles Spurgeon, the beloved “Prince of Preachers,” described the church as a mother who had been given the “privilege to bring forth into the world the spiritual children of the Lord Jesus Christ.” In his absence, Christ’s bride has now been entrusted with carrying on his ministry of nurturing. His church now gives hands, feet, and voice to divine love. She is the warm body equipped to continue growing us on in the faith—teaching, washing in the waters of baptism, comforting, modeling forgiveness and reconciliation, discipling, exhorting, extending hospitality, providing for practical needs, serving us at the table, attending us in sickness, shielding us from dangers, bringing back prodigals, and more. She is the greatest mother we could hope to have this side of eternity.
Mothering Redeemed
And yet, we must still wrestle down the reality that this mother, like any other, carries brokenness in her midst. The church is comprised solely of sinners on the road of sanctification, and, as such, she will often fail to show up or meet our needs in the most helpful way. She may, regrettably, speak a word out of season, or even at times attend us in ways that reap lasting damage. Spurgeon himself said that “the Church is a poor mother, if her God is not with her. She can do nothing in bringing forth, nothing in nurturing, nothing in training, nothing in preserving, and nothing, at last, in bringing her children home, unless the Holy Spirit dwells in her, and sends her strength to accomplish all.”
But God’s true church, as weak and flawed as she may be, is empowered by his Spirit to keep becoming the mother for us that he designed her to be. Its shepherds and members (us included!) are learning how to keep showing up and representing Christ well to a broken world. And so, we can give our local body of believers the grace, honor, and teachability they are due as the church seeks to nurture us in godliness. We can extend to it our presence, our attention, our participation, and our vulnerability, Sunday after Sunday and all the days in between. We can let ourselves be loved by the church community God has provided and learn to love it deeply in return.
This Mother’s Day, whatever weights you wear on your shoulders, come to your Father and come to his church, your mother. Let their nurturing arms surround you with care and allow them to rewrite your story, as a mother, as a child, or both. God is still in the business of redeeming all of life’s brokenness and preparing us for glory—and he’ll do it with a good mom at our side.
Footnotes
Charles Spurgeon, “The Church a Mother,” sermon delivered at Metropolitan Tabernacle, London, UK, April 8, 1860; available online at The Spurgeon Center, https://www.spurgeon.org/resource-library/sermons/the-church-a-mother/#flipbook/.
Spurgeon, "The Church a Mother."
