Mothering Sunday

This past Tuesday was the feast day of the great English mystic Julian of Norwich (1342-1416).   Most likely the first woman author published in England (1393), there is much to say about her, but I will limit myself to one of her texts, which has been adapted for singing  and set to music by several contemporary hymn composers.  Its feminine images of God make some people uncomfortable, but “mothering” is merely a descriptive term, one that connotes the ability to create and nurture.  It is language which simply seeks to expand our understanding of God, and perhaps these words might embellish the  appreciation we have for our own mothers this coming Sunday.

                        Mothering God, you gave me birth in the bright morning of this world.

                        Creator, source of ev’ry breath, you are my rain, my wind, my sun.

                         Mothering Christ, you took my form, offering me your food of light,

                        grain of life, and grape of love, your very body for my peace.

                        Mothering Spirit, nurturing one,  in arms of patience hold me close,

                        so that in faith I root and grow  until I flower, until I know.

My title of Mothering Sunday refers actually to a name used in England for the fourth Sunday of Lent, when people returned to their “Mother” or home church. If for some reason – estrangement, death, distance – you are not able to be with your mother this Sunday, I hope you will allow yourself to be embraced by our mothering God wherever you worship.

This entry was posted in Sonya Subbayya Sutton and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

3 Responses to Mothering Sunday

  1. Jo says:

    And the people said Amen.

  2. Anton Vanterpool II says:

    Here’s to making Mother’s Day more than a card giving, flowers buying, dinner making or dining out Sunday. Have a special day, this Sunday and always.

  3. Bill Hall says:

    A few years ago on a vacation, I introduced my wife to my favorite English cathedral, at Ely. It was, as it turned out, Mothering Sunday, and children from the congregation fanned out through the cathedral and gave a flower to each of the women at the service. It was an unexpected additional blessing from the visit.

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