Why I Don't Celebrate Mother's Day in Worship

To those for whom I know it is appropriate, I will happily offer a happy Mother's Day. Only those that I know, though. Too dangerous to say it to someone I don't know, or to imply that everyone must find the day a happy one.

For you who have wonderful moms or who are wonderful moms and who love being a mom, this post isn't for you. I hope you will read it anyway, though, to come to a greater understanding (if you don't have it already) of the risks of celebrating motherhood as a normalized wonderful thing and mothers as a normalized wonderful thing.

This post is for those who hear "Happy Mother's Day" and cringe, tear-up, feel lonely, become anxious, or otherwise have an experience that belies the fiction that motherhood is *in all cases* something wonderful, and that mothers *in all cases* are worthy of honor, or that women *in all cases* ought to be mothers before they are worthy of celebration as a woman.

Because it isn't, they aren't, and they oughtn't.

For those of you who grew up with mothers (or step-mothers, or grandmothers, or aunts...) who were abusive, cruel, cold, absent, disengaged, apathetic, uncaring, or fill in your own less then celebration-worthy experience, and for whom "happy mother's day" is just a cruel barb in your heart dredging up bad memories, or making you feel like a horrible person for not wanting to honor a woman who was little more than the person who gave birth to you, this is for you.

For those of you who grew up with no mother at all, and did not find a surrogate mother but who pined for one, for whom "happy mother's day" only reminds you of the emptiness, this is for you.

For those of you who grew up and made a conscious decision not to be a mother, or who desperately want to be one but cannot for reasons of biology (infertile, transgender, health issues, etc.) or other circumstances (lack of money or a partner, etc.), who hear "happy Mother's Day" as an implication that you aren't a real woman, or not fulfilling your cultural duty (or worse, not fulfilling your GODLY duty) or are otherwise a lesser person because you haven't given birth, this is for you.

For those of you who are mothers and who resent it, find no joy in it, wish you had made a different decision, or find it a burden, and for whom Mother's Day is not happy, this is for you.

I was lucky that I had a pretty good mom, and she was worth celebrating. And I think she enjoyed being a mom, at least most of the time. Like all children, I'm sure my sister and I made her repeatedly question her decision to be a mother; but overall, I'm sure she would have said it was worth it. I hope so. I am, though, very aware that not all moms like being moms, and not all mothers are worth celebrating.

Many women cry and pray to God for a child, or did at some time, but are, for any of a wide variety of reasons, unable to have children and feel an emptiness that never goes away.

Some women choose not to have children, and that choice is just as worthy of honor as the choice to have a child.

Some women are single moms who hear "Happy Mothers Day!" one day of the year, and the other days of the year are bombarded from politicians and conservative Christian TV preachers and elsewhere (the same people who so vociferously proclaim the Godliness of motherhood and the holy vocation of being a mom) that they are deficient mothers for being single, that they are hurting their children, that they are not worthy of public aid if they need it, that they ought not come to a church, or that they are failures who are either whores (if they've never been married) or did not treat their men properly (if they are divorced).

Some women tried to have children, and had only stillbirths or children who died soon after their birth, and who, though they gestated a baby, never got to be a mother to those babies.

This is why I do not preach Mother's Days sermons, at least not to celebrate motherhood as though it is the pinnacle of womanhood. This is why at my church we do not hand out gifts that go only to women who are mothers. Because to celebrate motherhood as though it is the sole and most holy role for a female is to bring pain and suffering on women who do not fit that mold. The church should not be in the business of making anyone feel shame, less valued, or otherwise make them feel bad. Those who love being mothers, who are good mothers, and those who have/had good mothers, don't need a special day to celebrate motherhood; leastways, not in the church. They should be doing that every day. The church is the place for the people on the outside to find healing, safety, and a chance to tell their story.

I will acknowledge Mother's Day in my prayers of the people, as I do every year, but will spend more prayer energy praying for those for whom Mother's Day is a painful day. As Jesus was for the least of these, so also must be the church.

The church ought to give up letting Hallmark set its liturgical calendar, and do what the Church does when its acting its best: be honest. Be honest that mothers - because they are human beings - fall into all the messy places that all human beings do. The title "Mother" does not insulate any woman from that, nor does the absence of the title. Celebrating motherhood in a liturgical context is a dishonest exercise.

The United Church of Christ's facebook page posted an article about the dangers of celebrating Mother's Day. Of course, I agreed with the article, but I found that the least interesting part of their post.

What was interesting to me was to see the voluminous responses from women (and some men) who wrote that they intentionally avoid going to church on Mother's Day because the churches they are at (or were at) celebrated Mother's Day in a way that is too painful for them even to be in worship. They were reminded of their own infertility, or their miscarriages, or their terrible mother, or made to feel an outside simply because they choose not to have children. That was an eye opener to me. Some of our churches are intentionally keeping people out of the sanctuary by making them feel uncomfortable, unwelcome, and/or insufficient.


This Mother's Day, as on all Mother's Days, I celebrate with those who enjoy it. But mostly, I remember and pray for those who find the day painful. I firmly trust that God holds you and loves you just as dearly as anyone else. Your value does not depend on whether you live up to any kind of "gender ideal" (and the church should stop teaching such things), nor does your value depend on how functional your family is, or how your relationship with your parents is/was. I hope you know that, and trust it, too. You matter and are valued because you are God's, and God loves all of us without question or condition.