To preach today on these two topics was at first a bit overwhelming because I really wasn't sure which to give more weight to, Mom or Jesus' new commandment. But, as I thought about it, more and more, I realized that the two actually complement one another quite well, because, in many ways, Jesus really was the perfect parent to his disciples while He was here on earth. He loved them deeply. He spent hours with them, often foregoing His own needs and His desires for those of His friends and His followers. He ate with them and played with them and prayed with them and celebrated important milestones and events in their lives. And He was always looking for that teaching moment, any opportunity to help them along on their journey, to prepare them, so that when it was their time to teach and their time to be examples, they would be ready.

When you think about it, this love sounds so much like the love that a parent has for her child. It really is love in its most delicate and pure form. It assumes patience and it demands putting off pleasure sometimes and hanging in there for the long haul. It does and it can cause hurt, and it causes us to stretch and to struggle with ourselves. It goes way beyond the love that is comfortable and defined by status, or material wealth, or talent. The kind of love that Jesus calls us to today is much more personal than that. This is the love that is the product of service and sacrifice and forgiveness. It's the love that draws us always closer to God and to God's desire that our lives be full and rich. What most defines this type of love that Jesus calls us to today is that it reaches its promise and its fullness in our cared for and intentional relationships that we have with one another. It serves to reason, then, that we equate the love of God for us as the same as that that a mother has for her children, ever-present, and always calling us by name.

So what about our moms and all the people who love us with a mother's love? How are we doing? Well, if time is any indication, people who care for others the way moms do are passing this commandment test with flying colors. And it's not an easy test. Moms are called upon to be nurturer, healer, provider, confidant, friend, and so much more. They're teachers when the kids don't want to learn. They're goalees when there's nobody else to play with. And they're shapers of our faith when the kids don't really seem to care too much about church or God or anything remotely resembling faith or religion. And then they become teenagers!

Now, I want to go on record here and say that the young people that I work with have never exhibited this behavior, but some moms have come to me and said that their teenagers feel that they are way too involved in their lives. They actually have the nerve to want to know about their kids' well-being and their whereabouts! Curfew and personal safety are huge issues for moms and dads and all people who love us like mothers and fathers. And the one thing the teens assure me that they can count upon their parents to do is always embarrass them in front of their friends. But I think we can feel the same way about God in our lives, always there, meddling around, always there, waiting for us to invite Him in. And, as discouraging as it may be at times for parents, just like God, parents keep trying different ways to get through to us. They keep loving us, through and through, even on days when we're not so loveable. Somehow, God and the people who love us are able to see beyond our bad days and attitudes to that place deep within each of us that's about mystery and potential. No matter the obstacles that we put up or the situations we find ourselves in, God is always there, waiting to be invited into the process. But we have to ask.

It reminds me of the story of the man who wanted to win the lottery, and he kept wishing and wishing that he would win. He watched the numbers every day, and every day he watched his numbers not come up. And one day, he finally grew discouraged. And so he prayed to God, "Dear God, if you would only let me win the lottery...." And God answered, "I'd love to. But you're going to have to buy a ticket first." God is standing by, eager to be our partner, eager to be invited in.

This week, as I was beginning to prepare this reflection, I decided to include my own three little kids in an experiment at home. I wanted to get their unrehearsed response to a simple statement. So I waited until just the right moment, when they were arguing over something. And this time it was over who was going to be next on the tire swing outside. Instead of using one of my usual responses to try to get them to work things through, I very slowly and intentionally said to them, "Couldn't you just love one another?" For a moment, our little world just stopped and they all looked at me. And, as if on clue, but fully unrehearsed, they responded to my comment. The first one, the middle child, Brian, who is eight, said "No!" And he ran off and jumped onto the swing. And he was back into his own world, swinging away. Didn't want anything to do with staying there and working that through. The next one, the little girl, kind of looked at me, just kind of funny, six years old, and thought, "Well, that's different." Thought about it and walked off. And then the third one, the nine-year-old, who I had placed all of my hope in.... He stared at me and looked at me as if I had just fallen out of the sky. And then, after a moment, he turned to me and he said, "Yeah. OK, Mom. I can do that.... I can do that. I can love one another."

And I'll never forget that moment because it's a moment that I have often times with many of the teenagers here. It's a moment when they understand, for one moment, that God is active in their lives. And they also understand the power and the forgiveness of that transformative love of God's presence in our life. My son's response caused me to think about all the things that get in our way as we try to live out Jesus' new commandment to love one another. For instance, when we are wronged and we choose to hold a grudge, or when promises are broken and we're not willing to forget and start anew, then we become stuck and we close ourselves off to the possibility of healing and reconciliation. And there are times when things don't go as we would have liked, or decisions are made that hurt us. So we get hurt and we retreat from the situation and from the relationship. We begin to live our lives outside of the community. We risk losing contact and connection and a sense of one another. Other times, sadly, our love for someone is rejected or abused, and we get hurt and we grow resentful. Sometimes the hurt is so big that we lose touch with the trust necessary for loving relationships. And, if we're not careful and stop and ask friends and community for help, we grow isolated and alone, thinking mistakenly that the isolation will protect us. But you can't have community and you can't have family in isolation.

I think these are some of the things that Jesus must have been worried about with His disciples on that final night. The pressure was on and the tension in the group must have been great. The disciples were confused and scared and angry. So, it's not surprising that, when the eleventh hour was upon them and the cross was in sight and it was a certainty, Jesus called His friends together one last time. He wanted to spend His final hours with them. He wanted to share one last meal with them. He was leaving and, like a loving parent, He wanted to comfort them and He wanted to be sure that they were beginning to grasp all that He had come to teach them.

I think it's the same that we would do today with our own children if we knew that our time was limited. We'd gather them for a meal and we'd want to spend our final hours with them. We'd want to know that they were going to be OK when we were gone. But I think that, at this hour, our worries would have very little to do with their SAT scores or which university they were going to get into or whether or not they were going to land that perfect job. Those are important things in life, but I don't think it's how we'd spend our final hours with our children. I think we'd want to know that our children understood the awesome and transformative power of love, and that love necessitates forgiveness and service and sacrifice. And that love is at its greatest not when it's controlling something or someone, but when it's mutually responsive and respectful.... "For this is how they will know that you are my disciples... if you have love for one another." Happy Mother's Day!