When she could hide him no longer she got a papyrus basket for him, and plastered it with bitumen and pitch; she put the child in it and placed it among the reeds on the bank of the river.
His sister stood at a distance, to see what would happen to him.
The daughter of Pharaoh came down to bathe at the river, while her attendants walked beside the river. She saw the basket among the reeds and sent her maid to bring it.
When she opened it, she saw the child. He was crying, and she took pity on him. ‘This must be one of the Hebrews’ children,’ she said.
Exodus 2
Meanwhile, standing near the cross of Jesus were his mother, and his mother’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene.
When Jesus saw his mother and the disciple whom he loved standing beside her, he said to his mother, ‘Woman, here is your son.’
Then he said to the disciple, ‘Here is your mother.’
And from that hour the disciple took her into his own home.
John 19.25b-27
Here we have two stories of motherhood. Both stories, show motherhood in a variety of guises. We see that motherhood can be complicated.
Who was really Moses’ mother in the story? His birth-mother, or his adoptive mother – the daughter of Pharaoh who rescued him, or even his big sister Miriam, who watched over him and who, later in the story, used quick-thinking and daring, to transform tragedy into blessing?
In the gospel reading, the Blessed Virgin Mary, as she watches her son die, is made mother to John, the Beloved disciple.
- The daughter of Pharaoh, chooses to take on the role of mother, to a child not her own.
- Mary accepts the role of a mother, in response to Christ’s command.
Two stories of mothering that are much more complicated than simply giving birth to children. I think these readings push us to think more broadly about what it means to act as a mother, and to realise that motherhood takes many forms and is expressed in a variety of ways.
Of course, we have all known women who mothered without ever having children themselves. My children had primary school teachers who had never married, but I would say they expressed motherhood in the sacrificial love, nurture, and care they gave to their pupils.
I know in my family there were in the past, informal adoption arrangements. Aunties without children, took on the care of their sisters’ or brothers’ children, after that family was hit by tragedy, or ill health, or was just unable to cope.
So, perhaps the first thing we can say, is that our biblical texts, and our experience of life, show us that motherhood can be complex and mean something more than just physically bearing children.
The second thing we note in our readings, is that motherhood is often deeply painful.
Think of the torment of Moses’ mother. The Hebrews are enslaved in Egypt. Their numbers are growing and the Egyptians are starting to get worried. So, Pharoah commands that every Hebrew baby boy born, is to be killed.
Imagine the horror of being pregnant in those circumstances. Firstly, perhaps trying to keep your pregnancy secret. Then trying to give birth quietly and then, finding that you have given birth to a son, trying to keep him hidden. Imagine those 3 months living with constant dread. Terrified that your neighbours would here something and alert the authorities. Dreading at any moment a knock at the door, and your son being ripped from your arms and summarily despatched. What horror! Imagine living with that for months. The anxiety, the fear.
Finally, Moses can be hidden no more. In a desperate act, his mother takes him down to the crocodile-infested Nile. She constructs a mini-Noah’s Ark and leaves him floating amongst the reeds, close to the bank.
Notice that she can’t bear to watch what happens. She runs from the scene, leaving Moses’ older sister, Miriam, to witness what happens.
Pharaoh’s daughter comes down to bathe in the river, she spots the ark in the water, sends a maid to fetch it. They open it and see a crying baby boy.
Moved by compassion, she decides to act. She chooses to behave as a mother. She accepts the role.
Moses’ sister, who, to coin a phrase, has ‘more front than Brighton’, breezily suggests she can find a Hebrew nurse to wean the child. It seems a bit obvious. Does Pharaoh’s daughter guess what is happening? It seems likely, but she plays along. Moses’ mother is called, and she is made wet-nurse to her own son, who is now under the protection of Pharaoh’s daughter.
We are told that when the child grew up, he was taken into the royal palace and raised as one of the royal princes. What age was Moses, when this happened? Being weaned could mean anything from 3 to 12 years of age.
But finally, that day comes, and it is more agony for Moses’ mother. She has to give up her son permanently, probably never to see him again. Moses is to be raised as a royal Egyptian prince, and as such, would not be allowed to mix with Hebrew slaves.
Theologically, what is happening in this story? The Noah’s ark reference is a clue. It’s something of a re-playing of the Noah story. God saves the righteous from death by water through an ark.
But it is also a prophetic foreshadowing of what Moses will do. He will lead the people of Israel to safety and freedom through the waters of the red Sea.
From our New testament perspective, both of these events are seen as pointing to Christian baptism, we are all saved through water.
If we now turn to our gospel passage, again we see a complex picture of motherhood. It also starts in excruciating pain. Mary is literally watching her first-born son die the most agonising death.
She stands there in unimaginable torment of soul, watching all her dreams and hopes shatter before her eyes. All those angelic visitations, all those divine promises, all those wonderful words about all generations calling her blessed, all the successful ministry and the miracles – all fallen to dust and ashes. Where is God now? Where are all those wonderful promises and prophecies now?
Maybe her mind goes back to those confusing and ominous words of Simeon, spoken over her in the Temple after the birth of Jesus –
‘This child is destined for the falling and the rising of many in Israel, and to be a sign that will be opposed so that the inner thoughts of many will be revealed—and a sword will pierce your own soul too.’
Luke 2:34-35, NRSVA
I expect she felt exactly like that, a sword piercing her soul. How do you survive something like that? How do you find the courage to make it through such horror?
Well, Mary is supported by others, present with her, sharing her pain – Mary’s sister, Mary the wife of Clopas, and Mary Magdalene, plus the Beloved disciple John.
Jesus also helps Mary, by giving her a new role. She is losing her son, but she can be a mother to his closest friend, John.
Catholic theologians see this event as deeply meaningful. They understand this passage telling us that Mary is being designated as the mother of all Christians. The beloved disciple, John, represents all believers. So, Jesus is saying that Mary is now the mother of all the faithful.
There are several reasons for this interpretation. Jesus’ is stated as having 4 brothers and some sisters. So why would there be any need for someone else to take care of Mary? It seems unnecessary.
But the Greek word for ‘siblings’ is a bit slippery. It can mean ‘cousins’ as well as ‘brothers and sisters’; extended families were the norm at this time. Catholics believe that Mary had no further children after Jesus as none are mentioned in the infancy narratives.
Also, the moment is highly significant. It is the culmination of Jesus’ life and mission. Who are there – his mother, and his closest disciple. Mary, who was the first to believe, and John who was the best believer. Two people who have stayed with Him right to the end. One is his blood-mother, the other is in a chosen relationship of devoted discipleship.
The two people who believe in Jesus the most, are brought together at the foot of the cross, and a new family is created. We often think of Pentecost as the birth of the Church, but perhaps it is right here in this moment.
Two people, both devoted to Christ, are brought into a new familial relationship – the Church, the family of Christ. Every time we receive Holy Communion, like Mary and John, we kneel at the foot of the cross and as we do that, may we comprehend something of what Christ is doing in that moment. May we hear anew those words – this is your mother, this is your son – we are being made into a family.
As Christ’s blood is shed on the cross, he makes Mary and John, blood-relations. As Christians, we are also blood-relatives – united by the blood of Jesus.
Do you see the wonder of this!?
Jesus, at the very moment of greatest weakness, at the very point of death, achieves His greatest success. Jesus creates the Church.
Both of our readings are stories of incredible reversals.
Moses is abandoned to the crocodiles, but is saved and taken to be a royal prince, given the education and training that will enable him to lead the people of Israel out of slavery and into nationhood.
Jesus, seemingly at the moment when everything crashes to the ground, when all the promises and prophecies evaporate like morning mist, in that very moment He gives birth to the Church.
And mothers and motherhood are right at the centre of it all. Blood-mothers and adoptive mothers. Chosen motherhood and accepted motherhood.
So what, you might ask?
Firstly, I think we have to learn to celebrate and give thanks for motherhood in all its complexity. Blood-mothers, adoptive-mothers, motherhood that was self-chosen, or a call to motherhood that was accepted. Let’s thank God for all those who are mothers in our communities in all ways.
Secondly, we need to acknowledge that motherhood always involves pain. Mothers never stop caring, never stop worrying. It is a burden they carry, probably what often drives them to prayer for their children. Let us remember all those in our communities who know the pain of motherhood, let’s give thanks for all the mother’s prayers prayed for us.
Thirdly, we see that Jesus’ response to Mary’s pain, is to place her in a new family. The Church is meant to be a family for the hurt and broken; a place where we find support, encouragement, love, and compassion when life is painful. This is what the Church is meant to be.
Finally, we see our God is a God of surprising reversals. With God, no situation, no matter how desperate, is hopeless.
We can sometimes look at ourselves and our churches and feel like there is no hope. It is all doomed and done for – Last one to leave, turn off the lights! But that kind of despair is never appropriate. There are 6 times in Scripture when we the question “Who knows?” is asked regarding the will of God .
In every case, disaster was looming, yet in 5 out of 6 cases, the disaster was avoided. We should always be praying ‘who knows’ prayers regarding our future. ‘God, it looks like we are done for, but we do not give up hope. We continue to pray for ‘who knows’ what you might do?’
Our God is a God of great reversals. Amen.