On this Mothering Sunday, Stephen looked at Mary, the mother of Jesus, focussing especially on Luke 2:19 which tells us that Mary treasured all these things and pondered them in her heart. We usually look at that passage – following the birth announcements and visit of the shepherds after the birth of Jesus – at Christmas, and the song we listened to today (‘Mary, Did You Know?’ sung by Pentatonix) is also more associated with that time of year. But in  truth, we do well to think about Mary and her role in bringing up the Son of God as we consider the role of mothers today.

In Scripture, much of what we know is selective, each gospel giving us part of the story as a whole. Luke gives us a lot of valuable information about Mary, with Matthew filling in information about Joseph and the visit of the Magi after Jesus’s birth. We know that Mary was told how special her baby would be and both the angelic announcement to her, her time with Elizabeth during her pregnancy and the circumstances of the birth of Jesus were all indications to her of just how important her son would be. She was mother not only to a firstborn son, but to the Son of God, and there is no doubt as she treasured her memories and pondered them (see also Luke 2:33-35) that she was in awe of who Jesus was.

The role of mothers in bringing up children is enormous and it is worth pondering the role Mary played in Jesus’s life. What is even more amazing, however, is the role Jesus played. As the song reminds us, the child delivered by Mary would one day deliver us all from sin. What a Saviour!

‘Mary, did you know that your baby boy would one day walk on water?
Mary, did you know that your baby boy would save our sons and daughters?
Did you know that your baby boy has come to make you new?
This child that you’ve delivered will soon deliver you.’ (‘Mary, Did You Know?’)

Mothering Sunday is a day honouring mothers and mother churches, celebrated in the United Kingdom and Ireland on the fourth Sunday in Lent since the Middle Ages. On Mothering Sunday, Christians have historically visited their mother church and in the Middle Ages, this provided a day of respite from fasting halfway through the penitential season of Lent, with servants returning home to see their mothers as well. Nowadays, the day is highly commercial, providing one of the high points of the year for florists who provide 69% of all gifts given to mothers on this day!

It can, of course, be a very painful day for those who have lost their mothers, for those who have been unable to have children or whose children may have died and for those who have strained relationships with their mothers. As with so many occasions of celebration, there can be mixed feelings about this kind of day, ranging from feelings of obligation, frustration at commercialisation, and guilt (especially in these times when there are restrictions on travel and perhaps people are unable to visit their mothers.) Nonetheless, it is a time when for many, this provides an opportunity to express gratitude and thankfulness.

Having ‘set’ times to do this may seem odd to us, but people do seem to need the framework of a calendar to help us to pause, reflect and give thanks. We should, of course, be grateful to people at all times and should not require a set date to express our feelings to anyone, but it’s evident that for some people this is a helpful reminder. Jesus was well aware of our tendency to forget, which is why He urged us to share in Holy Communion, pausing in our busy lives to eat and drink in remembrance of Him. We can do this at any point in the day or week, but it’s good to gather together, as we do, on Sundays to focus deliberately on His death and resurrection and to remember the cost and scope of our salvation.

One of the things that is very difficult in formal situations is how a florid way of speaking is encouraged which is not necessarily honest but is deemed to be necessary. The Parliamentary system and judicial system in this country still encourage ways of addressing people which seem excessively polite and which effectively do not reflect people’s true opinions at all. This is no new phenomenon, for when we hear the lawyer Tertullus address Felix (the governor) in Acts 24, we realise that there is more flattery than truth in his opening remarks. Some would call the speech sycophantic, since presumably he felt that the more he flattered him, the more likely he was of receiving a favourable outcome in the trial of Paul!

Tertullus speaks of enjoying ‘a long period of peace under you’, which was not at all true, since sedition and rebellion were high under Felix’s rule, and his barbarous ways of putting insurrection down made him unpopular with the Jews. He went on to say, ‘your foresight has brought about reforms in this nation,’ which was also stretching the truth somewhat. Just as we saw that Claudius Lysias ‘edited’ facts to paint a more favourable picture of himself in Acts 23, here we see rhetoric and praise being used for effect, rather than from sincerity.

It’s interesting to contrast Tertullus’s opening comments to Felix with Paul’s. Paul is polite, but sticks to the truth: ‘I know that for a number of years you have been a judge over this nation; so I gladly make my defence.’ (Acts 24:10) He does not resort to insincere flattery or false pretences.

Paul tells the Ephesians we should speak the truth in love. (Eph 4:15) The two things must be kept in balance. Nicky Gumbel says, ‘Love becomes weak if it is not strengthened by truth. Truth becomes hard if it is not softened by love.’ It’s always tempting to say what another person wants to hear, rather than what they need to hear (especially if they have some kind of authority over us), but we must keep the balance between truth and love in our speech, as in every other area of our lives.

It’s clear from Acts 24:22-27 that the governor Felix had some experience of the ways of Judaism (his third wife, Drusilla, was of the Jewish faith) and that he heard Paul speak on several occasions. He was no doubt interested and even perhaps intrigued by Paul and his message of righteousness, self-control and judgment. Acts 24:25 tells us he was afraid when he heard Paul’s preaching; his conscience was doubtless pricked. Sadly, however, this did not result in repentance and conversion, but in procrastination and continued selfishness.

Many people today are interested in the Christian faith. They are interested in spiritual matters; they may even go so far as to listen to the gospel message. But interest is not enough. Listening is not enough. There comes a point of decision for us all, when we must choose whether we will follow Jesus or not. Jesus spoke plainly about there being only one way to the Father (John 14:6) and about there being two gates, one wide and one narrow, which do not lead to the same destination. (Matt 7:13-14) We must choose whether we follow Jesus or whether we go our own way.

If we want to avoid being like Felix and others who were interested but ultimately didn’t think it worth their while to follow Jesus, there are steps we must take (the ‘ABC’ of conversion):

1. Acknowledge that we have sinned and done wrong and that we need God’s help in order to live. As we acknowledge our sin, we must repent (turn away from) sin and turn towards God.

2. Believe that Jesus is the Son of God and has died for our sins, trusting Him to reconcile us to God through His sacrificial death on the cross, knowing that the resurrection means He is now alive forever more.

3. Confess our sins, ask for forgiveness and believe that Jesus now has the power to make us children of God.

Following Jesus is the most rewarding way of life possible. A life of faith, trust and love is what God is calling us towards. We can’t afford to be half-hearted in our response to Jesus. If you take that leap of faith, it’s worth it!

In Acts 24:24-27, we see that Felix, the Roman governor, did not reach a decision about what to do with Paul, and therefore left him in custody. The charges against him – of inciting resurrection and of desecrating the temple – were not proven, and if Felix had done what was right, he would have acquitted Paul and let him go. Because he wanted to please the Jews, however, he did not do so and instead kept him in ‘custodia libera’ (under supervision, but allowed visitors) for two years before he himself was moved to another post. During this period, he spoke with Paul on many occasions and definitely heard the basics of the gospel, which Luke defines for us as ‘faith in Christ Jesus.’ (Acts 24:24)

Faith is seen by Paul as the key element in life (see Rom 4:3, 13-25). He spoke to Felix about ‘righteousness, self-control and the judgment that is to come’ (Acts 24:25), and these are the ‘basics’ of the gospel message: how God, through the act of justification, gives the sinner His own righteousness (Rom 3:21-26, 2 Cor 5:19-21) and thus, through the indwelling of the Holy Spirit, gives us the power to overcome temptation and achieve self-mastery (a topic which may well have irked Felix, who was by now on his third wife!) In this way, we are shown that we can escape the awful final judgment of God because we are now accepted as His children and are free from all condemnation. (Rom 8:1) Felix was undoubtedly affected by this message (Acts 24:25 tells us he was afraid), but – like so many today – was not affected enough to repent and believe.

Paul shows us that even when in custody, he was committed to preaching the gospel. He never missed an opportunity to speak about faith in Christ Jesus and what that meant for our lives today. We may find it discouraging that Felix never seems to have come to faith himself, but salvation is from God. Our role is to be faithful witnesses to what He has done, and Paul did this consistently.

I’ve never been very good at maths, but one thing I have always liked is the sense that you know where you stand with the subject! 2 plus 2 always equals 4. 3 multiplied by 5 always equals 15. I even liked algebra at school because I was given a set of rules to follow, and if I did what was required, I would get the right answer. That kind of definitive linear learning was something I really appreciated.

Most of us want life to follow the same kind of patterns we find in mathematics. We don’t like ambiguity or nuance. We want to believe that if we do good things, then we will be blessed. We want to believe that those who do wrong will be punished. This simple kind of reasoning seems eminently fair to us and we are thrown into confusion when faced with grace and mercy, because God does not seem to work in the same way that maths does!

Throughout the Bible, we see people’s yearnings for this simple kind of living, where my fortunes are determined by my actions, where God blesses the good and punishes the wicked. Job and his friends wrestled with this, for Job was a godly man who faced great suffering. Why? The book spends a lot of time pondering this question (without ever giving us a conclusive one-size-fits-all answer, it must be said), because we so often equate the goodness of God with material prosperity, physical health, and emotional well-being. Asaph faced the same dilemma in Ps 73, when he felt like giving up on faith because it didn’t seem to guarantee short-term happiness or prosperity whilst those who ignored God seemed to flourish. We have to understand that God’s ways are not our ways, and that there is much in life which lacks the clarity of mathematics!

Paul is left languishing in Caesarea because Felix, the governor, cannot bring himself to acquit him, even though it is manifestly obvious he is not guilty of any crime. (Acts 24:1-27) There were no political votes in doing the right thing, and so he basically refused to do what was right. We may well feel outraged at this conclusion, outraged that Paul is prevented from further missionary activity by the cowardice of the man supposedly in charge of justice. Yet we need to realise that God’s agenda will not always coincide with ours. God can work powerfully in our lives when we feel He is furthest away from us; He can be doing great works in us and through us, even when we may feel abandoned and forsaken. The psalmist recognises the value of affliction (Ps 119:67, 71); we must learn to move away from simplistic thinking if we are to grow up in God. ‘Divine confinement’ – perhaps through illness or disappointment – does not necessarily mean divine disfavour. Paul would write to the Philippians of the need for contentment no matter what the situation. (Phil 4:11-13) He learnt the lesson that life is not perhaps as clear-cut as we would like, but he also realised that God was working for his good in it all. (Rom 8:28) When we learn the same thing, we become skilled in living well, whatever our mathematical ability!