In our first reading, the prophet Isaiah
offers an interlocking set of images:
the image of the human mother who feeds her child
from the substance of her own body;
the image of God as a mother
who seeks to comfort and console us
in our need and in our fear;
and the image of the city of Jerusalem as a mother
whose nurture and whose care extend to all her children.
Each of these images is worthy of our attention.
offers an interlocking set of images:
the image of the human mother who feeds her child
from the substance of her own body;
the image of God as a mother
who seeks to comfort and console us
in our need and in our fear;
and the image of the city of Jerusalem as a mother
whose nurture and whose care extend to all her children.
Each of these images is worthy of our attention.
First, we have the image
of the human mother and her child.
We have heard a lot, in recent days,
about the relationship of mother and child,
a relationship that is, as a matter of biological fact,
unique in its intimacy and in its complexity,
in its intricate intertwining of two lives,
particularly during the months of pregnancy,
but continuing in the years that follow.
If those on opposite sides of the question
of the legality of abortion agree on nothing else
(and it sometimes seems that they agree on very little),
all acknowledge the uniqueness of that relationship
and its life-changing power.
Indeed, it is precisely this uniqueness and power
that makes the issue so volatile, and so important,
and why the Church teaches the need
to protect and foster that relationship
in ways that honor both mother and child.
of the human mother and her child.
We have heard a lot, in recent days,
about the relationship of mother and child,
a relationship that is, as a matter of biological fact,
unique in its intimacy and in its complexity,
in its intricate intertwining of two lives,
particularly during the months of pregnancy,
but continuing in the years that follow.
If those on opposite sides of the question
of the legality of abortion agree on nothing else
(and it sometimes seems that they agree on very little),
all acknowledge the uniqueness of that relationship
and its life-changing power.
Indeed, it is precisely this uniqueness and power
that makes the issue so volatile, and so important,
and why the Church teaches the need
to protect and foster that relationship
in ways that honor both mother and child.
Second, we have the image of God as a mother,
which might be initially startling,
accustomed as we are to praying to God as Father.
Isaiah suggests, however,
that in the unique and complex intimacy
of the relationship of mother and child
we see an image of God’s intimacy with us,
an image of the God who brings us
to birth in the order of nature
and rebirth in the order of grace.
Indeed, some saints have suggested
that we see in the pains of Jesus on the cross
the labor pains of God incarnate
bringing forth that new creation
of which Paul speaks in our second reading.
Julian of Norwich, writing in the 14th-century,
says, “our true Mother, Jesus, who is all-love,
gives us birth into joy and endless living.”
As Isaiah and Julian suggest,
the image of God as mother
surely has an important place among
the many metaphors that we use
to speak of the mystery of God’s love,
and should shape our understanding
of the dignity of human motherhood.
which might be initially startling,
accustomed as we are to praying to God as Father.
Isaiah suggests, however,
that in the unique and complex intimacy
of the relationship of mother and child
we see an image of God’s intimacy with us,
an image of the God who brings us
to birth in the order of nature
and rebirth in the order of grace.
Indeed, some saints have suggested
that we see in the pains of Jesus on the cross
the labor pains of God incarnate
bringing forth that new creation
of which Paul speaks in our second reading.
Julian of Norwich, writing in the 14th-century,
says, “our true Mother, Jesus, who is all-love,
gives us birth into joy and endless living.”
As Isaiah and Julian suggest,
the image of God as mother
surely has an important place among
the many metaphors that we use
to speak of the mystery of God’s love,
and should shape our understanding
of the dignity of human motherhood.
Finally, we have the image
of the city of Jerusalem as a mother,
who shares her abundance with all her children.
Isaiah shows us God not simply promising
that the city will prosper,
but that her prosperity will be
spread abroad among her children,
reaching far and wide
so that all will receive her motherly care.
This vision is at the heart
of the social teachings of the Church:
the political community exists to ensure
that the goods that God
has lavished upon the world
are shared in justly by all people,
most especially the weak and the vulnerable.
We might have legitimate disagreements
on the precise balance
between public policy and private initiative
in this distribution of goods,
but for us as Catholics
whatever way we strike that balance
must respect the Church’s teaching that,
as St. John Paul II put it back in 1981,
“the right to private property is subordinated…to the fact
that goods are meant for everyone” (Lab. Ex. §14).
Or, as St. Ambrose put it in the 4th century,
somewhat less technically and with a bit more bite,
“The earth belongs to everyone,
not to the rich” (De Nabute c. 12 n. 53).
Saints John Paul and Ambrose teach us
that our vision for our own city, state, and nation,
no less than Isaiah’s vision for the holy city Jerusalem,
should be of a community in which all are given
what they need, not simply to survive, but to flourish,
and that our politics must be rooted not in self-interest,
no matter how enlightened,
but in concern for the least of these our brothers and sisters.
of the city of Jerusalem as a mother,
who shares her abundance with all her children.
Isaiah shows us God not simply promising
that the city will prosper,
but that her prosperity will be
spread abroad among her children,
reaching far and wide
so that all will receive her motherly care.
This vision is at the heart
of the social teachings of the Church:
the political community exists to ensure
that the goods that God
has lavished upon the world
are shared in justly by all people,
most especially the weak and the vulnerable.
We might have legitimate disagreements
on the precise balance
between public policy and private initiative
in this distribution of goods,
but for us as Catholics
whatever way we strike that balance
must respect the Church’s teaching that,
as St. John Paul II put it back in 1981,
“the right to private property is subordinated…to the fact
that goods are meant for everyone” (Lab. Ex. §14).
Or, as St. Ambrose put it in the 4th century,
somewhat less technically and with a bit more bite,
“The earth belongs to everyone,
not to the rich” (De Nabute c. 12 n. 53).
Saints John Paul and Ambrose teach us
that our vision for our own city, state, and nation,
no less than Isaiah’s vision for the holy city Jerusalem,
should be of a community in which all are given
what they need, not simply to survive, but to flourish,
and that our politics must be rooted not in self-interest,
no matter how enlightened,
but in concern for the least of these our brothers and sisters.
In recent days many people have said
that with the overturning of Roe versus Wade
the time has come for the pro-life community
to step up and advocate
for an economic and social order
that will address the inequalities
that have often led women
to seek abortion as a solution
to an unexpected or undesired pregnancy.
that with the overturning of Roe versus Wade
the time has come for the pro-life community
to step up and advocate
for an economic and social order
that will address the inequalities
that have often led women
to seek abortion as a solution
to an unexpected or undesired pregnancy.
This seems largely correct,
though I would add that this is something
that some have been doing all along.
But more needs to be done,
though I would add that this is something
that some have been doing all along.
But more needs to be done,
and more of us need to do it,
and this must be a matter of concern for our nation
and not simply for us as private individuals.
Saint John Paul wrote,
“it is not enough to remove unjust laws…
[T]here need to be set in place
social and political initiatives
capable of guaranteeing conditions
of true freedom of choice
in matters of parenthood” (Ev. Vitae §90).
and not simply for us as private individuals.
Saint John Paul wrote,
“it is not enough to remove unjust laws…
[T]here need to be set in place
social and political initiatives
capable of guaranteeing conditions
of true freedom of choice
in matters of parenthood” (Ev. Vitae §90).
Our Catholic faith calls us to embrace fully
what John Paul called “the Gospel of Life,”
which focuses our concern on life
at its most vulnerable stages—
its beginning and its ending—
but also addresses questions
of economic justice, war, the death penalty,
the dignity of migrants, and the environment.
All of these are elements
of what John Paul called “a culture of life,”
a culture that embraces its children
as a mother embraces her own,
feeding and nurturing them,
a culture that we are called to labor for,
by word and example,
as we make our journey to God’s kingdom.
We must answer this call,
going forth gently, like lambs among wolves,
armed with nothing but the love of God.
a culture that embraces its children
as a mother embraces her own,
feeding and nurturing them,
a culture that we are called to labor for,
by word and example,
as we make our journey to God’s kingdom.
We must answer this call,
going forth gently, like lambs among wolves,
armed with nothing but the love of God.
The task lies before us.
The harvest is abundant.
Let the laborers not be few.
May God, who cares for us
as a mother cares for her child,
prosper the work of our hands,
and may God who is merciful
have mercy on us all.
The harvest is abundant.
Let the laborers not be few.
May God, who cares for us
as a mother cares for her child,
prosper the work of our hands,
and may God who is merciful
have mercy on us all.
