Messing with Mothers

Appreciating the wonder of the womb of our mothers

05/11/2018

John 16:20-23 Jesus said to his disciples: "Amen, amen, I say to you, you will weep and mourn, while the world rejoices; you will grieve, but your grief will become joy. When a woman is in labor, she is in anguish because her hour has arrived; but when she has given birth to a child, she no longer remembers the pain because of her joy that a child has been born into the world. So you also are now in anguish. But I will see you again, and your hearts will rejoice, and no one will take your joy away from you. On that day you will not question me about anything. Amen, amen, I say to you, whatever you ask the Father in my name he will give you."

It’s always a risky business for a man to talk about pregnancy and giving birth for the simple fact that he has no clue what he’s talking about. If that man is a celibate priest and not married moreover, he should be doubly careful not to rush in where angels fear to tread. But I would still like to say something about child birth.

Pregnancy serves as a great metaphor and analogy. Writers sometimes refer to a “pregnant pause” meaning even though no words are uttered, that silent space is filled with new life and its birth is imminent, about to burst forth. The school where priests study is called a “seminary” which comes from the Latin word “semen” meaning “seed.” Our last year in the seminary we were called “expectant fathers.” We commonly refer to newly ordained priests as “baby priests.” Keep that in mind when Fr. Stephen Elser arrives in a few weeks. My coach who trained me to run marathons warned me: “Don’t get a big head when you run a marathon. A woman who has given birth can always run circles around you.” Every man has met his match when he’s messing with a mother.

Only one Man in the history of the world could speak about pregnancy and giving birth from personal experience. That is the God-Man, Jesus Christ. You probably have to be a God-Man to give birth because no mortal man could handle it! The long tradition of the Church has seen Jesus’ crucifixion, and especially the moment when water and blood poured out of his pierced side on the Cross, as a spiritual birth, when the Church was born from the womb of Christ. The water symbolized Baptism and the blood the Eucharist, the two central sacraments that give life to and continuously nourish the Church.

In the gospel, therefore, Jesus can speak on his own authority when he talks about pregnancy. Our Lord taught: “When a woman is in labor, she is in anguish because her hour has arrived; but when she has given birth to a child she no longer remembers the pain because of her joy that a child has been born into the world.” I remember a mother once commenting that only a man could be so stupid as to say a woman forgets her labor pains as soon as a baby is born because he’s never had a baby. That’s true, unless the Man in question happens to be the God-Man, Jesus. The Messiah’s mission was not only to “marry” the Church as his Bride, but also, analogously-speaking, to give birth to the Church as its Mother. When Jesus referred to his disciples as his “children” he meant it both figuratively, but also very much literally. St. Paul echoed the same spiritual truth when he wrote in Galatians 4:19: “My children, for whom I am again in labor until Christ be formed in you.” Jesus rushes in where angels fear to tread because he is greater than the angels, and also because he has given birth to the Church.

There is another spiritual sense in which pregnancy can be seen as a metaphor, namely, our life on earth is like a womb and we are not truly born until we enter eternal life. Jimmy Stewart realized happily, “It’s a wonderful life” in Bedford Falls. But as good as Bedford Falls was, earthly life is only the Preface to the Book of Life that will be opened and read in Heaven. So I suggest that we not get too attached to the things of this world, like a baby shouldn’t grow too fond of her umbilical cord and the amniotic fluid. So much more is waiting outside of the womb of this world, a world of wonders that the unborn baby (you and I) can barely begin to fathom. Just like a baby is not born without shedding many tears and much travail, so we do not leave this world very willingly or very easily.

The Welsh poet, Dylan Thomas, urged his dying father to “rage, rage against the dying of the light.” But like a foolish man who should take care to talk about pregnancy, Thomas didn’t realize that the real light was only about to dawn for his dad.

Praised be Jesus Christ!