Mother’s Day Sermon
May 12, 2024
via: Catharine Rhodes
Main teaching: Exodus 2:2-10 (Moses’ birth)
Memory verses: Matthew 18:3, 1 Timothy 3:4,
Themes: motherhood, caring for children, segregation, equality, faith, hard work.
30-35 minutes.
Good morning, everyone.
Happy Sunday, Happy Mother’s Day Weekend.
I'm truly grateful for the opportunity to share with you today, especially as a mother of four children myself.
Through the years, I've come to appreciate the unique joys and challenges that come with being a mom, and a childcare provider. God blessed me with four beautiful children who loved making friends. Our house was always full of people, and after a while, we just stopped counting them. At least until dinnertime. When we had to count the plates, and make sure we had enough chicken legs for everyone!
I have had the incredible privilege to serve in Sunday schools and to work with at-risk youth and their families. The opportunity brought me immense joy and fulfillment. Witnessing the positive impact of providing support, guidance, and hope to individuals facing challenging circumstances has filled me with hope and love myself.
Connecting with these individuals on a personal level, understanding their struggles, and walking alongside them on their journey toward healing and transformation has been deeply rewarding. Being able to offer a listening ear, a helping hand, and a message of love and acceptance has allowed me to witness firsthand the resilience and strength of the human spirit. Knowing that I have played a part, no matter how small, in empowering these individuals to overcome adversity and build brighter futures fills me with a sense of fulfillment that words cannot fully capture.
But it wasn’t always like that. I wasn’t always able to see the joy in this work. Of being … mom. Of being a caregiver. When my first child was born, 24 years ago, I had no idea what to do.
I’ll never forget the way I felt when he was born. I don’t think that ever leaves a mom. The doctor handed me this tiny little person, with perfect little miniature fingers and toes, all bundled up in a blanket. He looked into my eyes, and he was a blank slate of love, hope, and trust.
I understood what God meant when he said, “Become like a little child” (Matthew 18:3) Have all the love, and trust, and faith in others that a small child does. And hope they do right by you. And work to do right by them.
I wanted to be the best mom who ever lived but, I didn’t even know which way a diaper went on. Those nurses at the hospital seemed so sure of themselves. They just performed this magic act, juggling babies up in the air and wrapping them in blankets and plugging soothers and bottles into their mouths like a 1960’s phone operator. My first year as a first time mother was comparatively -and factually- inadequate.
Miracles take hard work. You pray for it and pray for it and when you get it…that’s when the work begins.
There were moments when I didn’t feel up to the task at all. One was August, 2000. It was hot outside, and I wasn’t feeling well. I wasn’t producing enough milk for my baby, so I had to feed him one bottle a day. I went to the store, and I accidentally bought the wrong kind of formula. I used ready to serve formula, you just pop the top and pour it into the bottle. I accidentally bought liquid concentrate, which you have to mix with water.
While I was feeding him my baby started screaming. He turned red in the face. I sat him up, trying to console him, and he threw up all over me. And then he threw up all over the carpet. And the wall. It didn’t stop, and I took him to the hospital.
I had been handed this beautiful, perfect, healthy child. This absolute miracle and…a few short weeks into his life, I had already made a mistake. I felt undeserving. I felt like God must have called the wrong number.
He’s fine, by the way. He’s 24. He’s healthy.
They all are. My kids are 24, 20, 16, and 14 and can’t recall their baby days, but I can. Every smile, every lost tooth, every first step. They are all engraved on my heart.
Mom. Who is she. What does mom, mean?
At some point every one of us, whether or not we remember, was helpless in the arms of someone who chose to take on the role of mother. Someone who kept us warm, and fed us, and held us so that we’d always feel loved, supported, and safe.
It was the first time.
But it won’t be the last.
Mom. Wow.
When reflecting on the relationships between mothers and their children, I think about Jochebed and Miriam, two women united in a conspiracy against the state. They didn’t mean to be criminals, or fugitives, but they were faced with an unjust law. And if you don’t Jochebed, you remember her son. He was a pretty famous man. Relatively well known.
His name was Moses.
God had a plan for Moses. Moses would one day be the man who freed Israel from Egypt’s rule. And he would be remembered for thousands of years. Even by people outside of the Jewish and Christian faiths. Moses is one of the most powerful and lasting biblical figures.
Did Jochebed, his mother, know that?
Maybe not.
No angel of the Lord appeared to her. She didn’t have any foretelling dreams. There was no North Star. No major miracle. I mean, yet.
No-one in her inner circle gave her any guidance.
In fact, it was the opposite. Pharaoh had ordered that all the sons of the people of Israel be killed in infancy. The law was being followed. It was a horrible time in humanity’s history. A dark time for the people of Israel.
But Jochebed looked at her son. This beautiful trusting child. This miracle. God’s creation. And what did she do?
Exodus 2:2-4
2 and she became pregnant and gave birth to a son. When she saw that he was a fine child, she hid him for three months. 3 But when she could hide him no longer, she got a papyrus basket[a] for him and coated it with tar and pitch. Then she placed the child in it and put it among the reeds along the bank of the Nile. 4 His sister stood at a distance to see what would happen to him. 5 Then Pharaoh’s daughter went down to the Nile to bathe, and her attendants were walking along the riverbank. She saw the basket among the reeds and sent her female slave to get it. 6 She opened it and saw the baby. He was crying, and she felt sorry for him. “This is one of the Hebrew babies,” she said.
Imagine that trust. Imagine that FAITH.
She hid a living child for 3 months. What was she hiding him from? Pharaoh’s soldiers, who would sweep the towns and villages looking for infant boys. From her own friends and neighbours, possibly her own family members, who might turn her in.
It was literally life or death.
It’s not so hard to imagine how she would have felt, waiting for the right time. Moses had to be old enough that he could survive at least a short time without a feeding. He had to be strong enough that any danger of infant diseases or premature death had passed. But he couldn’t be big or strong enough to sit up, climb over the edge of his tiny water craft, or accidentally land in the water.
It’s not so hard to imagine how she would have felt, when you look into the faces of your own family, your own friends. Our family here at the church, and our family outside of these walls who our people hold dear, all of them are loved. Cared for. Every life that exists matters to someone.
Moses has inspired billions of people but on the day he was born, he only mattered to three people: his mother, his father, and his big sister, Miriam. Nobody knew him.
But his mother saw him.
Exodus 2:2 “when she saw that he was a fine child, she hid him for 3 months”
Jochebed had a choice between following pharaoh and following God. She had a choice between doing what was normal, and trusting the Lord. So she hid her baby. And she hoped for a miracle.
And she got a miracle.
That’s powerful.
Miracles take hard work. It’s tempting to think that you can just pray for it, and if you get what you prayed for that’s it. That’s the miracle. I’m here to tell you, that’s not the miracle. Now you’ve got to maintain it. rep.
Jochebed prayed for her son to be spared, and that took a miracle. Those Egyptian soldiers found every other male infant. They missed Moses.
Was he loud? Did he cry? The bible says yes.
Exodus 2:6 Pharoah’s Daughter opened the Papyrus basket and saw the baby. He was crying.
Moses wasn’t mute, he had a voice, a voice that would one day mobilize thousands, then millions, then billions of people…of course he could cry. But the Egyptian soldiers never found him…why? Faith.
Moses’ mother, Jochebed, had faith in God.
Not in pharaoh, not in the law, not in banks or financial security advisors or employment or the housing market. Their faith was in God. And it was stronger than anything else.
Even their sense of self preservation.
Jochebed had to make the hardest decision as a mom. She had to give up her child to keep him safe. Not because of anything she had done, but because of the world around her. That’s another kind of work. It’s called “mental load”. Physically, all she had to do was lift up a basket with an infant inside and put it in some bulrushes around the time she knew pharoah’s daughter would be bathing. Easy-Peasy.
Physically.
But mentally.
Oh, wow.
That basket must have felt like it weighed ten thousand pounds. Imagine how the strength must have gone out of her arms. How exhausted she must have felt. How heavily she must have trudged toward the Nile river with her son. Her healthy, strong, beautiful son. God’s miraculous creation. Wondering, the entire time…who would destroy that? Who would sever the connection between a mother and her child, or an infant’s connection to this brief and beautiful thing we call life?
Miracles take work.
Miriam watched over Moses.
Her brother had two, maybe four hours to live. He’s 3 months old. They didn’t have baby formula back then. He couldn’t eat solid food.
Did Miriam and Jochebed know Moses would be found? Maybe not. But they had faith.
They knew when Pharoah’s daughter would be bathing. They knew where to place Moses in his basket so he would be seen. They lovingly wrapped him to keep him warm, and coated the basket to keep him dry. They packaged the child like a gift and presented him to Pharoah’s daughter.
It was no small feat. Back then, they were conspiring to commit a crime. And remember, they didn’t have the ten commandments for guidance, (emp) that was Moses in the basket. Just an infant at that time. Not a prophet with tablets covered in heavenly script, as he would one day become. Just a baby whose life was on the line.
Jochebed and Miriam made a plan. The words came from each other. But the inspiration came from God.
How did they know what to do with Moses?
How do we know what to do with babies?
We just know.
We just know.
And who tells us? Where does that knowing come from? How does every creature on earth know what needs to be done?
We know, because God tells us.
We know, because we are born knowing.
That’s a miracle.
It’s incredible.
God gives parents, and especially mothers, a special duty. It exists above and beyond the responsibility for our fellow human beings. Before we are citizens, workers, members of this church, or of any church, we are parents.
We are parents first.
How do we know? The bible tells us.
1 Timothy 3:4. Paul writes a letter for Timothy laying out qualifications for church leadership. Of priests, he says “He must manage his own family well and see that his children obey him, and he must do so in a manner worthy of full[a] respect. 5 (If anyone does not know how to manage his own family, how can he take care of God’s church?)”
We are parents first. God is the centre of our lives. The centre of everything we do. Our family is second, especially our responsibilities as parents. Our church is our extended family…in some cases, literally.
Some of us, like Jochebed, are birth parents. Some, like Pharoah’s daughter, have needed to step into the role. Many of us have done both.
Especially in healing communities.
My grandmother was in her eighties when she passed away. She raised ten children. Five we're born to her. Five, she raised because it was common for child protection agencies to remove light skin children from homes with black parents and place them with white families during segregation in Canada.
I say during segregation, but it was happening until at least the 1980’s openly and it continues even now.
My parents, and some of us here, grew up during a time like the time of Jochebed. A time when certain types of people were considered..less. They didn’t deserve to have children, or healthcare, or access to clean water, or employment. It’s strange how easily that type of thing is accepted. By everyone. Written into law.
My family survived. And we are here.
The law didn’t favour us.
Popular opinion didn’t favour us.
So it must have been our own parents and grandparents who fought for our lives.
Miracles are hard, hard work. If you ask for a miracle you have to be willing.
The bible says Miriam watched Pharoah’s daughter:
Exodus 2:4-7
4 His sister stood at a distance to see what would happen to him.
5 Then Pharaoh’s daughter went down to the Nile to bathe, and her attendants were walking along the riverbank. She saw the basket among the reeds and sent her female slave to get it. 6 She opened it and saw the baby. He was crying, and she felt sorry for him. “This is one of the Hebrew babies,” she said.
7 Then his sister asked Pharaoh’s daughter, “Shall I go and get one of the Hebrew women to nurse the baby for you?”
Shall I go and get one of the Hebrew women to nurse the baby for you?
And Pharoah’s daughter? Exodus 2:8: 8 “Yes, go,” she answered. So the girl went and got the baby’s mother. 9 Pharaoh’s daughter said to her, “Take this baby and nurse him for me, and I will pay you.” So the woman took the baby and nursed him.10 When the child grew older, she took him to Pharaoh’s daughter and he became her son. She named him Moses,[b] saying, “I drew him out of the water.”
This blows my mind. Imagine casually walking up to Justin Trudeau’s son, Xavier, and asking him to break his father’s most beloved and important law. In a world where everyone thinks Trudeau is going to be killed…not just overthrown but killed…if you do this.
God has chosen Moses to overthrow Pharoah.
God has chosen Moses, and because of Jochebed’s faith, because of Miriam’s faith, when Moses reaches adulthood, Pharoah’s entire army will be drowned.
We know this.
We know this from the bible.
We know this from archaeological evidence presented as early as the 1980’s by Hans Goedicke, then chairman of the department of Near Eastern studies at Johns Hopkins University.
He said A tsunami rose up sometime around 1477 BC that swept across the Nile Delta, over Lake Menzaleh, and inundated the plane south of the lake. It initiated at a volcanic eruption in the Mediterranean Sea.
God controls everything in Heaven and on Earth.
Except humanity, which has free will.
So we know Israel’s descendants would have survived either way. We know Moses would have crossed the sea, and the Egyptian army would have drowned no matter what. We know from the story of Joseph and his many coloured coat that when God chooses someone, if doesn’t matter who tries to stop the plan. Remember Joseph had been taken away from his parents. He did not have a single sibling on his side. But God worked through him anyway.
It would have been nice, though. If his family would have helped.
Imagine Miriam’s faith in God. Her love for her baby brother that allows her to stand up to Pharoah’s actual daughter and say “what if I just go get his mom?”
“You know, she can nurse him.”
Under the threat of death.
Miracles take a lot of hard work. They don’t just happen. Even after they happen, it takes faith to keep them running. Faith. Hope. Love.
Everything a mother sees in her baby’s eyes when that miraculous little treasure is born. And everything that baby sees in her eyes.
It’s about the future.
It’s about the important and loving, and gracious relationship between parents and our children. That sacred, timeless, and unbreakable bond. Each family is unique. Each child is unique.
Every mother on earth has a different story and a different style, but we all love our babies. Jochebed’s story may not be the exact same as our story. But I know we see ourselves in her.
We know, as mothers, how she felt when she gave birth, don’t we? We know how hard that was.
We know the horror, when she realized her baby was a boy, and that he would be killed.
We know the thrill of looking into our children’s eyes for the first time and feeling that love…maybe the same kind of love that God feels for us.
We know the pain of saying goodbye. Of having to trust someone else with our babies. Teachers. Doctors. Their eventual life partners.
God.
It doesn’t matter where we live. Who we are. Where we came from. It’s the same. The love between mothers and their babies is so unchanged that we can completely identify with a woman living thousands of years ago in a completely different political system because the things of man: our inventions, our buildings, our cell phones, our fashions…are fleeting. But the things of God…love, hope, faith, charity, kindness…those last forever.
Jochebed’s sacrifice is one we would have trouble understanding in the modern world, because we put so much value on human life. Or at least, we know we’re supposed to. It’s easy to think, what’s the big deal? Everybody knows you’re not supposed to kill people. Especially not BABIES.
But the ancient world was not our world.
The principles we live by -the Ten Commandments- thou shalt not kill…these ideals were not known. Child sacrifices happened in the ancient world. And the practice wasn’t looked down upon. It was just considered a cultural practice, a thing some people did. No weirder than Canadians choosing to have free healthcare and Americans choosing a private healthcare system. In ancient Greco-Roman society, dishonour was viewed as a fate worse than death. Jochebed lived in a world where it was okay to commit murder, infanticide, and other heinous acts…as long as you didn’t do it to the wrong person. Your worth was based on your position in society, and the lesser members of society…well, they didn’t matter. Jochebed…and her people, the Israelites, they didn’t matter.
Pharaoh was afraid of their power.
Pharaoh was afraid of their love for each other. Their kindness. Their ability to work together. So he held the people of Israel as slaves.
This was chattel slavery.
It wasn’t “You owe me a debt, now you have to work it off”
It wasn’t “I defeated your army, now your people work for me.”
It was chattel slavery. Jochebed was a slave, because of her race (rep)
Moses was sentenced to die. An an infant. As a baby. Because of his race.
The story of Jochebed and Moses is one of the explanatory stories of the Old Testament. It tells us how the Hebrew people survived against all odds. Moses wasn’t the only baby saved by the two Hebrew Midwives mentioned in the bible: Jochebed who was known as Siphrah and Miriam who was known as Puah. The bible tells us hundreds of babies we're saved. By these women. These strong, powerful women. And what was their power?
Jochebed wasn’t physically strong. The woman was 104 years old when Moses was born. She couldn’t win a boxing match against one Egyptian soldier, let alone the teams of soldiers going around villages, searching for baby sons. She wasn’t a Trojan warrior woman, kitted out in full armor, bearing a sword and shield.
What was her strength?
Faith. Hope. Love.
Jochebed believed one important thing, and because of it, she changed the world.
God’s got this. God’s got a plan.
And she submitted to the plan.
Miracles take work. If you get one, that’s when the work begins. And God’s going to keep working in that miracle. God’s going to keep asking if you’re ready.
You know when we were kids we used to play double Dutch and Chinese skip. With both those games you have one kid at each end of the rope, and a bunch of kids lined up to jump in. When I think about God trying to give out miracles I always think of him in that line waiting to jump in (rep). And he’s watching and he sees his opportunity and he jumps in. But then you’ve got to watch his feet. You’ve got to see what God is doing. In your life, you’ve got to keep turning that rope.
God’s got your miracle. He has your miracle in his hand. It’s waiting for you. Maybe you just need to learn how to turn that rope at the right speed, how to get it high enough. Maybe the miracle is a little too tall and you and your partner need to move a little bit closer and make that rope fly a little bit higher.
God had a miracle for Jochebed. She waited 104 years for it. And she had no idea. She couldn’t even conceive of God’s plan. We know about Moses. We have our miracle. We understand the Ten Commandments.
Jochebed knew Moses as a baby. God knew Moses before he was born, God knew Jochebed, and all of her descendants, and all of their descendants for thousands of years. God knows each and every one of us, who we will become, what we will do, and who our children will become. We may not ever see the plan.
What did Jochebed give Moses?
Her love.
His life.
His morality.
And where did she get it?
From God.
We are told Jochebed took Moses home and nursed him for the formative years of his life.
Exodus 2:9-10
Pharoahs daughter said to her (said to Jochebed) “Take this baby and nurse him for me, and I will pay you.” So the woman took the baby and nursed him. When the child grew older, she took him to Pharoah’s daughter and he became her son.
Moses lived with his birth mother until he was around 3 or 4 years old. Some bible scholars think it might have been longer. It’s clear throughout the bible that Moses knew he was one of the Hebrew people being raised by an Egyptian mother. He loved and stood up for his people. He was polite. He followed the laws. But when he saw one of the Hebrew slaves being mistreated, he held them close to his heart.
The relationship between mothers and their children is of great importance. Mothers teach our sons to be kind and our daughters to be strong. Through our physical strength? Some of us, maybe. Maybe some of us are body builders.
Through our love. Through our joy. Through our spirit. Through our faith.
That is our strength.
Moses was 80 years old when he parted the Red Sea, and when he brought the Ten Commandments to us from Mt. Sinai. It didn’t happen within Jochebed’s lifetime. It didn’t happen within ours. It happened within God’s. Everything does. (Rep)
We are a legacy.
It doesn’t matter where we come from.
The bible gives a lineage for everyone in it. Son of Abraham, daughter of Saul. Jesus’ lineage is four pages long to prove his relationship, through Joseph, with the line of King David. We all came from somewhere. We all came from someone.
We are a legacy, because we are Christians.
God doesn’t exclude us because of our race or our colour, our culture or status, our age or who we are, how much money we have, or who we know. We are all people. All sinners. All Christians.
Because of the principles we follow: kindness. Hope. Support. Love. Our churches founded a beautiful holiday like Mother’s Day.
It was founded at a Methodist church in Taylor County West Virginia, by Anna Marie Jarvis. Anna Marie said she founded Mother’s Day for a couple of reasons.
This is what I mean by miracles take work.
Miracles, like anything worth doing, have two parts. Maybe three.
Inspiration. Perspiration. And a purpose.
A great idea. Hard work. And a reason.
Anna Marie was inspired by a prayer spoken by her mother at a Sunday school session. I’d like to read the prayer to you now, if that’s okay.
“I hope and pray that someone, sometime, will found a memorial Mothers Day commemorating her for the matchless service she renders to humanity in every field of life. She is entitled to it.”
Anne Reeves Jarvis, Anna Marie’s mother, raised ten children in the mid-1800’s. It was another time when some people we're assigned value, and others were treated as less important, because of their background, their heritage, or the colour of their skin. In 1864, when Anna Marie Jarvis was born, over 20,000 slaves lived in West Virginia. No laws protected them. They had no rights. Women couldn’t vote and we're not considered persons under the law. Women couldn’t vote and weren’t considered human beings under the law. Children weren’t protected from imprisonment, from being forced to work off family debts, from hunger and poverty. Employment standards did not exist.
Most women weren’t able to work, except in very specific jobs. They gave birth without painkillers, without their husbands in the room, and the expectation was that they would do their duties as a wife. Often directly after giving birth.
“I hope and pray that someone, sometime, will found a memorial Mothers Day commemorating her for the matchless service she renders to humanity in every field of life. She is entitled to it.”
Anne Reeves Jarvis passed away in the early 19th century, around the time that my grandmother was born, a free woman, in Canada. The first woman born free in the Bright family. Anne Reeves Jarvis didn’t even know that my grandmother was coming. But she prayed for her. She prayed for all of us, mothers. And God listened. That’s her miracle.
Because of her prayer her daughter, Anna Marie Jarvis, and her son, who was a medical doctor, founded the holiday we now celebrate as Mother’s Day. It was scheduled for the second week of May. The week after Anna Marie’s birthday: May 1, 1864.
The goal of the Mother’s Day gathering at the Methodist Church in West Virginia was to teach young mothers the mechanics of motherhood by gathering moms together. As helpers. As advisors. Anna Marie and her brother started a program of teaching safe medical practices that reduced the risks of childhood illness and infant death. Like Miriam and Jochebed, the Jarvis family saved a lot of babies. It is because of people like them and the convention they started that we have access to supports and advice for young mothers. Their work may very well be the reason I was able to find help, support, and mentorship in my own journey as a young mother and a caregiver.
The reason I was able to find help and support within the church that taught me the mechanics of being a mom and afforded me the opportunity to help and eventually advise others.
Anne Reeves Jarvis said a prayer. And she got her miracle.
She handed her miracle to us.
And now we’ve got to work for it.
Let us pray
Dear Lord,
We come before you with hearts full of gratitude for the gift of motherhood and the incredible women who have shaped our lives with their love and sacrifice. Bless every mother, Lord, with strength, wisdom, and unwavering faith as they navigate the joys and challenges of raising their children.May they find peace and joy in their role as mothers, knowing that their love and devotion are cherished beyond measure. And may we, as a community, continue to support and uplift mothers in all that they do.In your holy name, we pray.Amen.
