Sermon

As one whom his mother comforts, so will I comfort you; and you shall be comforted in

Jerusalem. And when you see this, your heart will rejoice, and your bones will flourish

like an herb: . . .

Isaiah 66:13

In this country, at this time, motherhood is a controversial subject. On the one hand,

there is vociferous resistance to any tendency to make motherhood the norm for every

woman. On the other hand, there is equally vociferous defense of family values. This

controversy is not necessarily a bad thing. One of my favorite passages from Arcana

Coelestia reads as follows:

. . . no one should be instantly persuaded about the truth--that is, the truth should not

be instantly so confirmed that there is no doubt left. The reason is that truth inculcated

in this way is "second-hand" truth [verum persuasivum]--it has no stretch and no give. In

the other life, this kind of truth is portrayed as hard, impervious to the good that would

make it adaptable. This is why as soon as something true is presented by open experience

to good spirits in the other life, something opposite is presented soon thereafter, which

creates a doubt. So they are enabled to think and ponder whether it is true, and to gather

reasons and thereby lead the truth into their minds rationally. This gives their spiritual

sight an outreach in regard to this matter, even to its opposite.

Arcana Coelestia 7298:2

At various times in our lives, circumstances do press us to question things we have taken

for granted. Whether this questioning is fruitful or not depends in large measure on the

spirit in which we undertake it. To the extent that the current questioning of motherhood

is hostile, for example, we can expect it to yield hostile and therefore distorted

answers. The same can be said for defenses of motherhood. To the extent that the

questioning arises from a genuine concern for the wellbeing of all concerned, though, we

can expect it to yield new and helpful understanding. There may be confusion and even

pain, but the authenticity of the concern will both sustain and guide.

Needless to say, Swedenborg did not in the eighteenth century address concerns in the

forms in which they have arisen in the late twentieth century. On the general subject of

motherhood, though, there are two observations that I believe offer a very constructive

context for our own thought. The first is most completely stated in ¶ 405-6 of Marital

Love:

The love of little children in spiritual married partners is to all appearances similar to

that of natural married partners, but it is deeper and therefore gentler . . . . [When

parents meet their children after death], they simply look at them and ask what kind of

state they are in, rejoicing if it is well with them and grieving if it is not. After some

conversation, counsel, and caution about heavenly moral life, they part company, informing

them before they part that they are no longer to be regarded as parents because the Lord

is the only parent of everyone in heaven . . . .

One clear implication is that biological parenthood in general, and motherhood in

specific, is a temporary state. This makes a difference in at least two important

respects. I suspect that all of us have seen the grief that is caused by the mother who

cannot let go of her children. The children are placed in the impossible position of

having to choose between their own profoundly legitimate and healthy longings for

independence and their gratitude for everything their mother has done for them. The

mother, in her own right, has apparently come to believe that she is nothing but a mother,

that she will be no one, will have no worth, if that role is taken from her. For the

health of the mother and the growth of the children, then, motherhood should be entered

with the knowledge that it has a sunset clause built in, so to speak.

The other respect in which the fact of temporariness makes a difference is best

highlighted by admitting that there are times when it seems as though parenthood will go

on forever. I can recall a day some years ago when I was about to go to the store. I

stopped at the door of the house to leave word, and realized that there was no one to

leave word with. I didn't even have to leave a note. Lois was at work, and Bruce was in

college. I could just go out the door. It felt very strange, and not quite right. In a

way, I had not been able to see beyond parenthood, and when the stresses of parental

responsibility mount up, we need to be reminded that there is more to life than this,

there is more to us than this.

The passage from Marital Love also insists that from death to eternity, we and our own

parents and our own children will all belong to the same generation, so to speak, with the

Lord as our parent. Again, I would see two implications of this. One is that as we move

out of the role of parent, we are moving not toward the role of superparent or metaparent,

but toward the role of child, child of God. This is perhaps an unexpected facet of the

familiar dictum that "to grow old in heaven is to grow young," but it fits.

The second implication is that the Lord will be both mother and father to us. The most

striking hint of this in Scripture is probably our text: "As one whom his mother comforts,

so will I comfort you; and you will be comforted in Jerusalem." We are in a much need of

the kind of nurture we associate with motherhood as of the kind we associate with

fatherhood, and the Lord could not be our only parent by filling only half of these needs.

This, I suspect, is the reason for next words in Isaiah: "And when you see this, your

heart will rejoice and your bones will flourish like an herb."

For me, then, the general effect of the passage from Marital Love is to provide a kind of

foundation for questions about the role of motherhood. It is seen as a role that a woman

will move beyond. This means it is seen as inadequate as a total identity or total reason

for being, which in turn means that it lacks something, or some things, essential to

complete humanity. If the mother looks up now and then and says, "There must be more to

life than this," she is absolutely right, and the church should affirm her in this

recognition.

If the Marital Love love passage offers a foundation for questioning, though, there is a

passage in Heaven and Hell, though, that suggests some limits to that questioning. It is

about children who die in infancy, and reads as follows:

As soon as such little ones are awakened, which happens immediately after their death,

they are taken into heaven and given to angels of the female gender who during their

physical life loved little ones dearly, and loved the Lord as well. Because they loved all

little ones with an almost maternal love while they were living in the world, they accept

them [after death] as their own, and the little ones, from an inborn tendency, love them

as their mothers.

Again, I would see two major implications. The first, the one that especially sets limits

on the questioning of motherhood, is that the care of little ones can be a truly heavenly

occupation. The kind of critique that sees it as demeaning or unfulfilling betrays a bias,

a distortion. Yes, it is difficult, and yes, there are aspects of it that are unattractive

and repetitive. It would be hard to think of an occupation worth undertaking that did not

have its difficulties and its stretches of dreary routine. If we find our calling, though,

there is a sense of reward that carries us through the tough stretches, and surely there

are few rewards greater than participating in the growth of a child in strength, grace,

and independence--however erratic that growth may sometimes seem to be.

The second implication rests in the clear assumption of the Heaven and Hell passage that

not all women in heaven will be involved in this occupation. Some are more suited to it

than others. This does not make them more feminine or more heavenly than women with

different gifts and interests; and we are reminded of the pervasive principle that

differences are absolutely necessary. Paul put it very vividly--"The eye cannot say to the

hand, I have no need of you, nor again can the head say to the feet, I have no need of

you" (I Cor 12:21). Swedenborg put it in more abstract terms in his statement that a form

is more perfect as its constituents are distinguishably different and yet united.

None of us can go through life doing only what we love best. We are all faced with some

unwelcome tasks, whether as parents, as professionals, or simply as members of one

community or another. What the Lord has in mind for us, though, is that through our

efforts to do the best we can in the circumstances in which we find ourselves, we will

gradually discover what we love best, and will find ways to focus our lives more and more

around this distinctive use.

All of these uses fit together-in the words of Arcana Coelestia (¶ 3645), "The universal

kingdom of the Lord is a kingdom of ends and uses." The unifying principle is the

fundamental purpose of creation, a heaven from the human race, and clearly the bearing and

the raising of children is close to the heart of that purpose. There is a desperate need,

though, not to take this quantitatively, not to believe that the more children the better.

We might take to heart what the Lord said of Judas-"It would have been better for him if

he had never been born" (Mark 14:21).

Where does this leave us on Mother's Day? It leaves us, I believe, with the conviction

that mothers do not need any romanticizing of their role or sympathy tinged with cynicism.

They need not to be stereotyped, but to be understood and supported as unique individuals

in a role that is demanding, rewarding, and temporary. We are together in our expectation

that one day, we will all be children together.

Amen.