Homily for the Fourth Sunday of Lent, Year C (Mothering / Laetare Sunday)

This evening / morning we celebrate Mothering Sunday. The origin of

Mothering Sunday is a bit different here compared with the US, and they also

celebrate it at a different time in the year, which can cause confusion if you are

signed up to American e-mails. In this country, it is normally on the Fourth

Sunday of Lent, and there are various English customs and traditions associated

with it.

On this day, back in Mediaeval times when England was Catholic, Our Lady

was celebrated on this day, and there was the focus on your mother church.

This either meant going to the mother church of the diocese, which is the

cathedral, or visiting the church in which you were baptised, if it wasn’t your

parish church. These gatherings also meant that families that might be

scattered due to work met up on Mothering Sunday, and it was a time to meet

your mother, and children would often gather flowers on the way to the church

or cathedral to give to their mother when they got there.

There is also the sense in which the Church is our mother. At Mass, just before

receiving Holy Communion, the priest says: “Behold the Lamb of God.

Behold him who takes away the sins of the world. Blessed are those called to

the supper of the Lamb.” The Mass is biblical, and the last part of this comes

from the book of Revelation, ch. 19 v. 9, which says: “Blessed are those who

are invited to the marriage supper of the Lamb”. The Church is sometimes

called the bride of Christ, because the Book of Revelation talks about the

marriage between Christ and His People, the Church. By “Church” we don’t

just mean the clergy, but rather everyone who is baptised.

So following on from the Church being the Bride of Christ, the Church is also

our mother, with us being born in the waters of baptism. In baptism, we are

born into Christ and into His Church. It’s not just a membership card; we are

changed by the sacrament of baptism and receive the Holy Spirit. In the second

reading, St Paul says: “Brothers and sisters: If anyone is in Christ, he is an

new creation. The old has passed away; behold, the new has come.” If we are

baptised as adults, and we have sin on our souls, then all sins are washed away

by baptism as well. St Paul continues: “All this is from God, who through

Christ reconciled us to himself”. This is great, because it means that those

adults who are baptised, when they come to make their first confession, only

have to confess the sins they have committed since their baptism. But for all of

us, priests and sisters as well as people, Lent is a time when we particularly

focus on what needs to change in our lives, and to go to confession.

We’ve all had different experiences growing up. For some of us, talking about

the Church as our mother may evoke good memories of our own mothers, but

for others, less so. For some, speaking about God as our Father may trigger a

broad spectrum of memories about our own father. So that’s why in the Parable

of the Merciful Father, Our Lord is saying, this is what our Heavenly Father is

like. If He expected the audience to think of the Lord as being like their earthly

father, then a whole range of different opinions might emerge. You see, if the

father had been more in the image of the elder son, what might have happened

instead? The younger son comes back to the house, the servant calls the father

to see his son, the son says he’s sorry, and the father might say something like

this: “Now you go and work in that field with my servants and don’t you stop

until you have repaid every penny you took from this family.” And the elder

son smiled to himself and thought, “My brother’s learnt his lesson. And he

won’t be forgetting it in a hurry, either.” So instead, we are given this parable

in which the younger son, when he returns, has already realised he’s messed up

and is sorry for it. He doesn’t need a right telling off to make sure he knows all

the trouble he’s caused. Despite the serious falling out at the beginning of the

parable, the father is awaiting his return, and runs and embraces him. He calls

the servants to bring the best robe, and a ring for his son’s hand, and shoes for

his feet. We can’t have my son looking like this. Now let’s celebrate! This is

what our heavenly Father is like.

It’s the same when we go to confession. The priest isn’t there to give you a

thick ear, a right telling off and a penance of eight hundred Hail Mary’s – and

by the way, you ought to try being more grateful! No, it’s a celebration of

God’s mercy, when you are welcomed back and restored. Just as in baptism we

become a new creation, so also in confession: “The old has passed away;

behold the new has come. All this is from God, who through Christ reconciled

us to himself.”

No matter how good our mothers or fathers might be or have been, God

surpasses them all. And hopefully Holy Mother Church doesn’t do too bad a

job either.

Curious about exploring things further?  If you would like to ask further questions about the topics raised in these homilies (or maybe think it wasn’t explained too well!), please feel free to e-mail Fr Michael at stjoseph.thame@rcaob.org.uk