Momma Knows When

David Orendorff · John 2:1-11 · January 14, 200

Every child has a momma.  Some momma’s give us birth, some mommas adopt us, some of us adopt our mommas, some mommas are female, some mommas are male, but all true momma’s, by a mystical desire and wisdom, know us better than we know ourselves.

Cathy, in the cartoon strip has a complicated momma relationship.  In one series Cathy wants to prepare Thanksgiving dinner for her parents, her boyfriend and his parents and some friends (to be the entertainment).  Cathy, as it turns out, is not quite ready for prime time holidays and must continually ask her mother for advice.  Cathy’s mother is only too glad to offer her words of wisdom.

At one point Cathy is sitting by the phone preparing to place the latest call to her mother.  Her friend Charlene is helping.  Charlene starts:

"Are you going to misinterpret everything that’s said, Cathy?"
Cathy answers, "No. I’m bigger than that Charlene,"
"Are you going to let one negative comment make you snap?"
"No. I’m bigger than that."
"Are you going to deteriorate into a whimpering baby?"
"No. I’m bigger than that."
"Are you sure?"
With confidence Cathy answers, "Completely sure."
"Then place the call!" says Charlene
Cathy places the call.  It rings through. She says, "Hello?"
Her mother starts, "Hi sweetie, about thanksgiving...  It’s a good
idea to set the table a few days ahead of time and...
Cathy interrupts, shouting, "For crying out loud, mom!  It’s only Sunday!" And then she slams the phone down.
In the next frame Cathy wisely observes, "No matter how much I grow as a person, I will never be bigger than my mother." 1Cathy by Cathy Guisewite, quoted from the Helena Independent Record, Nov. 20,.1994.

Advice is what a true momma lives to give.

There is a little momma in me for my children.  I most always have an opinion about what would be best and I can’t always control myself in sharing my profundity with the unappreciative, but fortunately they endure me.

I have noticed that Vickie has a little momma in her also.

We don’t intrude into our children’s lives to be intrusive; we do it because we are smarter and more experienced than the little dunderheads.  Honestly, I think we do it because they are so very important to us that we want for them what we know they are and can be.  We nag and push because we love them and we want their lives to be complete and full.  Mommas see the tremendous potential in their children and sometimes end up shoving that perception down the beloved's throat.

Jesus, in St. John’s gospel, is lucky to have such a momma.  In the other gospels Momma Mary doesn’t play the wisdom role she does here in John.  In Mark, Mary and Jesus’ brothers and sisters have to be pushed away and left behind because they hinder his ministry.  In Matthew and Luke, Mary is the very young, betrothed woman, who conceives by the Holy Spirit, gives birth to the Christ and then virtually disappears.

But in John, Momma Mary knows before her beloved son when it is his time and when his ministry must begin.  And parenthetically, Momma Mary is also with him at the end of his ministry, at the foot of the cross.  This is a real momma.

Momma Mary and Jesus are at a wedding in Cana.  The wine is gone and the celebration threatens to be over.  Momma Mary goes to her son and says, "They’re out of wine."  Now you might mistake this for a casual observation if it hadn’t come from momma’s lips.

When momma says, "Your hands are dirty" what she is really saying is, "Wash your hands."  When momma says, "You’re slouching" what she is really saying is, "Sit up."  So when momma says, "They’re out of wine" she is really saying to her thoughtless son, "Do something."  He says, "Don’t bother me momma. It's not yet time."

She, like a good and loving momma, doesn’t give up.  If she cannot achieve Jesus’ future directly she will do it indirectly.  Momma goes to the servants and gets them to ask him for wine.  What he won’t do for his momma, he does for his friends (typical kid), he makes a new and fine wine so that the caterer is pleased and the wedding party goes on.

The party goes on, not because of how smart we are, but because of how much our momma’s love us, believe in us and call to us to be who we were made to be.  In some ways and on some days I feel like momma at Bear Creek.  I know it is an arrogant thing to say because I am not your momma.  However, when I see who you are and as I fall in love with you, I sometimes think I know more about you than you think I do.  Forgive me for saying so, but often I conclude that you don’t know how wonderful you are and what great destiny lies within and before you.

Years ago I learned a little chorus by Libby Roderick that runs in my head every so often. It is a true momma song. It goes:

How could anyone ever tell you,
that you’re anything less than beautiful.
How could anyone ever tell you that your less than whole.
How could anyone fail to notice that your loving is a miracle,
How deeply you’re connected to my soul.

In this momma soul connection I see a future for Bear Creek which is now only just begun.  Like the wedding at Cana, the world is running low on wine.  We don’t have to look very far to see hungry children, alcoholic families, victims of abuse, war, neglected aging, racism, or sexism.

And it is not that these are just temporary set backs of a social order.  These are endemic of a disease of the soul.  When a community holds good health to be the property of the wealthy, spends billions on weapons, on gambling and on cosmetics (men included) and spends almost nothing to feed a hungry baby, or get that baby to the doctor or teach that baby to read, then our problem is the rotting of the corporate soul.  Those who will not put an end to the suffering of the children surely must be gripped by a hideous evil.

I believe that Bear Creek has an emerging role in the healing of souls.  At our Administrative Council Retreat a week ago Saturday we looked hard at who we are and who we are called to become.  With passion we reaffirmed our mission statement "to create a diverse family place of belonging for all people and to reach out and make Disciples of Christ.  We reaffirmed that disciples worship regularly, pray and study often, and are engaged in servant love to the world.  We pushed the financial folks to find a way to hire a staff person to minister to children and their families. We embraced the chaos of the Holy Spirit and agreed to listen carefully to the fears and tears of those around us, and to experiment with ministries that bring hope and healing. 

We recognize that the wedding feast is coming to an end and unless we listen to momma and understand her when she says, "They’re out of wine," the party will be over.  Already our dancing is interrupted by the funeral procession for the souls of our and God's lost children, for our brothers and sisters who are dying in Iraq, Somalia and the Sudan.

I look into the eyes of a six year old whose daddy is on his way to prison and whose momma has already found another boy friend and I say I am willing to sacrifice for the soul of that child rather than see another tear, or hear another angry yell.  I listen to a 24 year old tell the story of mental institutions and chronic depression and I am willing to sacrifice to give a moment of peace.  I walk past the gaming machines and watch money go in and not come out and I am willing to sacrifice so that the lonely can find two armed embraces instead of betting on one armed bandits.

I am reminded of John Wesley’s challenge to Christians in the formation of the first Methodist societies to not only talk about being Christian but to commit their lives to an ethical code which reflects their beliefs.  Those who became Methodist had to give up hard drink, gambling, idle conversation and gossip, slander or lying and act instead with the mind of Christ in compassion for all creation by taking in the orphans, visiting the sick and imprisoned, ending slavery and advocating for child labor protection.  The early Methodists, with far less resources than are available to us, rallied and built pharmacies, the first savings and loan bank, taught the illiterate and gave power to the dispossessed.  It was Wesley’s desire that we Christians not only talk a good game, but be Christ in the world.

Our faith in the God of servant love, our firm commitment to be disciples in worship, study, and service, to make servant sacrifices for the healing of the world, is the new wine for which the world cries.

We need more disciples of Jesus in the world today.  We desperately need people and places like Bear Creek where we not only talk about grace but make the necessary personal and corporate sacrifices to live about grace.  We need people who show up ready for the Spirit of God to descend upon their hearts; people who open their minds to the words of death and resurrection, the words of faith; people whose hands remain open and generous, ready to touch the wounds and embrace the wounded.

Momma says, "They are out of wine."  It is time for us to accept our call to ministry and to make the new wine the world needs.  May God show us the way?  Amen and Shalom.