Tag: Mother's Day

3 Simple Rules

Her name was Susanna Wesley (1669-1742), the mother of the founder of Methodism, John Wesley (1703-1791). She knew a thing or two about motherhood and she set the standard high. She was born in 1669, the youngest of twenty-five children. At the age of nineteen she married Samuel Wesley (1663-1735). They knew hardship. Constantly poor, they had nineteen children, nine of their children did not make it into adulthood. Their family home burned down twice. Yet, despite all of this, she is remembered as an outstanding mother. She prepared her children to survive in this world and to be prepared for eternity.

Each one of her children, both boys and girls, were home-schooled. Their education began on the day after their fifth birthday. Each one of them was required to know the complete alphabet after the first day. Once their education was complete, her children knew both Greek and Latin, along with the classics. All this was done within the framework of sixteen house rules. They still speak to our world today. These are her sixteen rules for parenting: 

  1. Eating between meals is not allowed. 
  2. Children are to be in bed by 8 p.m. 
  3. Children are required to take medicine without complaining. 
  4. Subdue self-will in a child to save the child’s soul. 
  5. Teach a child to pray as soon as he can speak. 
  6. Require all to be still during Family Worship. 
  7. Give them nothing that they cry for, and only that when asked for politely. 
  8. To prevent lying, punish no fault which is first confessed and repented of. 
  9. Never allow a sinful act to go unpunished. 
  10.  Never punish a child twice for a single offense. 
  11.  Reward good behavior. 

12. Any attempt to please, even if poorly performed, should be commended. 

  1.  Preserve property rights, even in smallest matters. 

14. Strictly observe all promises.  

15. Require no daughter to work before she can read well. 

16. Teach children to fear the rod.  

Those rules demonstrate that Susanna Wesley knew something about raising children. However, this is the Good News for today: This blog does not have sixteen points. This blog only has three. They are found in our reading, John 2:1-11. 

The scene is a wedding reception. Couples didn’t honeymoon in those days. No one traveled to Mexico or the Caribbean.  However, they did hold receptions that lasted approximately a week. Jesus was invited to one such reception because he was a respected rabbi. Over the generations, certain general rules of hospitality have remained intact. Running out of food or drink has always been a serious matter. In verse three we discover that the wine had run out. Everyone looked for the guilty party, but Mary looked to Jesus.

She knew Jesus had the power to save the day. She believed in Jesus when Jesus didn’t believe in himself. In verse four, we find Jesus making an excuse for his inactivity, “My time has not yet come.”  Mary does not listen. Instead, she instructs servants to bring him water. By the end of the scene, the party has resumed. Everyone had enough wine. Verse ten tells us it was the good wine. What does that mean? It means the wine that Jesus produced had a kick. What grabs our attention today is not the quality of the wine, it is the relationship between Mary and Jesus. 

Time is important in this story. The nativity was decades earlier. Jesus is no longer a newborn, and Mary is no longer a young mother. In this story, Jesus is thirty years old man, and Mary is a veteran mother. Mary illustrates how our relationships with our children must change. You can’t treat your thirty-year-old child like a newborn, that will destroy any relationship. Your relationship with your children must evolve, as your child evolves. Mary illustrates for us three simple rules parents must follow when dealing with their adult children. 

This is rule #1: Know your children! Mary knew Jesus. She was at the wedding reception with Jesus and this was not unusual. Mary spent most days with Jesus. Mary knew Jesus was different from the very beginning. She must have remembered many things. She must have recalled that visit from the angel years earlier, who told her that she had been chosen to be the mother of the Son of God. She must have remembered Jesus’ birth. She remembered the visitors, the shepherds and the Magi. She must have remembered how Jesus wandered off at the age of twelve and was found in the temple. Mary remembered it all because she was part of Jesus’ life for thirty years. She knew Jesus better than Jesus knew himself. How well do you know your children?  

How much real time do you spend with your children? Perhaps, this is a better question: How well do your children know you? Can you name three of your children’s friends? If not, maybe you don’t know your children. Spending time with your children is important. Rule #1 says, know your children. 

This is rule #2: encourage your children! History tells us that Abraham Lincoln (1809-1865) carried an old newspaper article with him regularly. Those who were closest to him say he read it daily. He couldn’t believe the words. The article said Lincoln was a great leader. The article was correct, he is remembered as being a great leader, perhaps our greatest president. However, Lincoln didn’t see himself that way. He was crippled with self-doubt. Lincoln illustrates for us a simple point. It doesn’t really matter what others think of you. The only thing that matters is how you feel about yourself. How do you feel about yourself? 

I love this Bible story because it shows the human side of Jesus. Jesus had an insecure side. Look at the story again. The Master is at a wedding reception when the wine ran out. Jesus had the power to solve the problem, but he didn’t try because he was too insecure. It is his mother who gives him the nudge to try. Verse 3 says, “When the wine was gone, Jesus’ mother said to him, ‘They have no more wine.’”  In other words, Mary is telling Jesus to do something. She is encouraging him to do something. Have you ever needed an encouraging word? The world reminds us regularly of what we can’t do. We need people in our lives to remind us of what we can do. It is not just true of the young. It is true of the not-so-young. We are often blind to our own abilities. It is impossible to receive too much encouragement. Rule #2 says, encourage your children. 

This is rule #3: Trust your children to God! Mary knew Jesus and she encouraged Jesus. However, the third rule must have been the hardest one for her to apply. She knew God had something special planned for him. She remembered how she and Joseph took Jesus to the temple when he was only eight days old. On that day, they met an old man by the name of Simeon. He knew Jesus was destined for greatness. Do you remember his words? Mary did. Simeon said, “This child is destined for the raising and the falling of many in Israel” (Luke 2:34). Mary didn’t know what that really meant, but she must have asked the question a million times: why does her son have to lead to the raising and the falling? Why not just the raising?  

When she encouraged Jesus to change the water into wine, she was encouraging Jesus to get on with his life. She was encouraging Jesus to fulfill his divine destiny. Jesus’ future was out of Mary’s control. She had done the best she could do. Now, she had to trust God with him. We only have our children at home for a short time. Most of their lives they are on their own. How far do you trust God with your children? This is rule #3, trust your children to God. 

Years ago, I watched Ken Burn’s (born 1953) documentary on World War II, The War. My father served during that war, so I felt some attachment. I found the interviews of the survivors interesting. That generation is dying quickly. In one episode, they interviewed a native-American soldier who was in the infantry. I will never forget it. I think about it every Mother’s Day. Years after the conflict, he cried about the day he took a German life with his own hands. Death did not come suddenly, the soldier died slowly. Before he died, he called out. According to the man interviewed, he didn’t call out for a medic. He didn’t call out for his friends. He called out for his mother, twice. The man was a solider, but the man was a son who needed his mother.  

Don’t tell me motherhood isn’t important. It is important to love your children when they are young, but it is equally important to love them today. Regardless of age, they will always be your children, and you will always be their mother. The English poet and playwright Robert Browning (1812-1889) once said, “Love begins and ends with mothers.” I believe he was right! 

A Son’s Regrets

My father died in 1996. That meant for the first time in over forty-five years, my mother was alone. My sisters and I did the best we could to fill his void, but we failed. She struggled without him. She was the perfect person for his routine. We tried many things to fill her empty, lonely days. Annually, she would travel to Colorado Springs to visit my sister, Janet. Janet did a great job of hosting her. My job was simple. I took her to the airport and picked her up at the end of the visit.

I do not remember the year. However, I do remember the weather. My mother was returning from one of her Colorado trips and I went to the Pittsburgh Airport to pick her up. It was a long trip there and back because the weather was so bad. I am sure it was the heaviest snow of the year. I crawled to the airport, and I drove slower on the way to Warren. The hour was late when I drove into her driveway. Before I escorted her inside, I unlocked the front door, turned the lights on, turned up the heat, and carried in her suitcase. That is when it happened. She looked at me and said, “Russell, you look tired. The weather is so bad. Why don’t you spend the night? I will cook you a nice breakfast in the morning.” My response to her kind invitation has haunted me for years. I said, “No. I have some things to do in the morning.” A few minutes later I was driving home. Can I be honest with you? I can’t remember what I had to do the next morning. Chances are it wasn’t that important. The truth is, I just wanted to go home, so I did. I left my mother alone in that cold dark house because I was selfish. My mother sacrificed so much for me, and I couldn’t sacrifice a little for her. I am ashamed of my behavior and that night still haunts me. It is one of my life’s greatest regrets. I wish I could make it up to her now, but it is too late.

I would like to say that was my only regret, but I can’t. I have many, but I only have time to talk about three today. I don’t believe my regrets are unique. They may be your regrets too. American playwriter Arthur Miller (1915-2005) once said, “Maybe all we can do is hope to end up with the right regrets.”  For those of us whose mother have passed it is too late. For those of you who still have your mother, they are a warning. Don’t wait until it is too late. I hope you learn from my mistakes.

My first regret is not asking more questions. Listen to what I am about to say. I know basic facts about my mother. Her name was Ruth. She was the oldest of two daughters born to Walter and Nina Milligan of Brooklyn, New York. She went to P.S. 92 during her grade school years and graduated from Erasmus Hall High School. During the Second World War, she went to Pratt Institute and studied dietetics. After graduation, she moved to Jersey City, New Jersey and worked in a hospital. She worked during the day and began studying towards her master’s degree at night. One night the work and the studies were placed to the side. She attended a social gathering at the Marble Collegiate Church. The Second World War had just ended, and dances were held so returning soldiers could meet single women. She met a young dark-haired man named Ronald from Ohio. At first, she wasn’t interested in him because she thought he was Catholic. She was suddenly interested in him when she found out he was Protestant. In time, they married and moved to a magical place called Warren, Ohio, where everyone is a little smarter and better looking. In time, they would have three children; I am the youngest. I know basic facts about her life, but I wish I knew more. My mother is gone now. I regret not asking her more questions.

I wish I would have asked her more family questions. Was Aunt Sarah Grandma’s older or younger sister? Was Uncle Lester Grandpa’s older or younger brother? Where are Grandma and Grandpa buried? I wish I had asked her more personal questions. Did you ever consider staying in New York? Did Grandma ever forgive you for moving away? At what age did Grandpa start smoking? What was her favorite color? I am seven years younger than my sisters. Was I an accident, or just a disaster? Did you ever wish I was a girl? I have a million questions I would love to ask her now, but it is too late. Am I the only one, or are there questions you never asked? I regret not asking my mother more questions. I regret not asking more questions.

My second regret is not being more secure. Webster defines security as “a firmly established relationship or reputation”. Tomorrow, I will celebrate my 65th birthday. To be honest with you, I like the fact that I am going to be 65; it is a cool age. I am glad I do not have to be young again. Being younger is hard. Being my age is very liberating. When you are young, you have so much to prove. You must prove you are the smartest. You always must prove you are the strongest. You always must prove you are the fastest. You must prove you are going to be the most successful. When you get to my age, you discover none of those things really matter. I will be the first one to admit I am not the smartest, strongest, fastest or the most successful. It is not that those things do not matter. All I am saying is, I do not care. I really don’t care what you think about me. The only thing that really matters is that I like myself. Do you like yourself? In other words, are you secure?

I regret not being more secure when my mother was still with us. One of the reasons adult children struggle with their parents is insecurity. The younger generation is always trying to prove something to the older generation. My mother loved me unconditionally, but I was always trying to win her respect by proving my self-worth. That is why there is always an edge between parents and children. Our mothers know too much about us. They know our weaknesses that we are always trying to hide. I regret not being more secure, because I would have had a better relationship with her. I know something now I didn’t know on the day she passed. She loved me unconditionally. There was nothing to prove. I regret not being more secure.

My third regret is not being more articulate. It was early spring in 2002. My mother was in a rapid state of decline. As a matter of fact, I sat near her deathbed. She was sleeping comfortably. My father had died six years earlier and she was dying of a broken heart. My sister, Susan, and I did what we could. We were taking turns sitting with her so she would not be alone. It was my turn, and I sat in the shadows of her room at Crandall Medical Center at Copeland Oaks in Sebring, Ohio. The hour grew late and once again I began to think of everything that had to happen the next day. In the silence of that room, I decided to leave. I did something for the first time. I said something for the first time. I leaned over my mother and kissed her, and I said to her, “I love you.” From some unknown power she opened her eyes and responded, “I hope so. I am your mother!” I am ashamed to admit, that was the first and the last time I said those three important words, “I love you.” I regret not being more articulate.If you still have your mother, then find the courage to tell her. I have never met a mother who got tired of hearing that they were loved. I regret not being more articulate.

This all takes us to our scripture lesson for today. We find ourselves today in the nineteenth chapter of John. It is extremely late in Jesus’ earthly ministry. The last person Jesus healed had been healed. The last lesson he taught was completed. The disciples have even observed their last Seder with Jesus. Jesus has been arrested and tried. There is only one thing left for Jesus to do: die. Hanging between two criminals, Jesus is running out of time. The crowd of Palm Sunday had disappeared and the only ones who remained were those who truly loved him. The list is small. On that small list was his mother, Mary. I am not surprised. It must have been a painful day for her. Time moves so fast. Thirty-three years earlier she had brought him into the world; now she was watching him leave. She longed for Joseph’s strength, but he was gone. Jesus sees his mother and does the responsible thing. He entrusts her to John, the author of this Gospel, the disciple whom Jesus loved. Jesus waited until the last moment, but he didn’t wait too long. He died without a single regret. I hope you don’t wait too long.

This is Mother’s Day, and it is a good day to ask all your questions. There is no such thing as a foolish question. This is a good day to become more secure and relate to her. You don’t have to prove anything to your mother; she loves you unconditionally. This is a good day to become more articulate and tell her how you really feel. Mothers never get tired of hearing that they are loved. Abraham Lincoln (1803-1865) was the sixteenth President of the United States and the first President to be assassinated. He said it for many of us, “All that I am, or hope to be, I owe to my angel mother.”