The time: A weekday morning
The place: A parish church
The scene: A young mother, holding her baby and leading several older children, is leaving the church after Mass. The mother’s name is Anne Marie. As soon as she exits the church, Anne Marie is approached by a recently married young woman.
Young woman: Excuse me, I just have to ask: Are all those children yours?
Anne Marie (self-consciously): Yes.
Young woman: How wonderful! You must be a saint.
Anne Marie (with a wry laugh): A saint? Talk to my older kids. They’ll set you straight on that one.
Young woman: No, really. I think you’re such an inspiration! How do you DO it all?
Anne Marie: Well actually, I don’t. I mean, you should see my house. It’s completely trashed.
Young woman (a little crestfallen): Well, anyway, it’s great that you get to Mass with your kids. I hope that, when I have children, they’re as well-behaved in church as yours are. I can see that you taught your kids well.
Anne Marie: Not especially. I just get them to the first Mass of the day, before they have a chance to get cranky. They have terrible afternoon meltdowns.
The young woman smiles hesitantly at Anne Marie, says goodbye, and slowly walks away.
-Finis-
**********
Mothers, how many of you have been in a position similar to Anne Marie’s? Perhaps a fellow parishioner was openly admiring of your perseverance in bringing your children to daily Mass, or a gentleman in a grocery store was favorably impressed by your children’s politeness. Maybe a neighbor has praised you for being the mother of young adults who are making a positive difference in the world. Or another mother may even have said that it was your caring example that got her to thinking about having another child.
Most of us welcome positive comments like these. They can motivate us in our daily work, affirm us in our vocation, increase our sense of self-worth, strengthen our resolve, clarify our goals, and remind us of our ultimate purpose.
Yet we are often at a loss as to how to respond to them. It may be because we feel undeserving of praise or are afraid of coming across as self-righteous if we simply accept praise without first emphasizing our personal unworthiness.
Words of affirmation are like hot potatoes: warming and comforting, but hard to handle nonetheless.
Because their vocation calls for frequent acts of self-denial, mothers are unaccustomed to thinking of themselves, and as a result, tend to be wholly inept at accepting praise. Many of us behave as Anne Marie did, making excuses for the good that we do, or trying to convince the other person that we’re really no great shakes. What we ought to be doing is following the example of St. Gerard Majella.
St. Gerard, a humble and holy Redemptorist brother, had a reputation for working miracles. One day a certain noblewoman, having heard of St. Gerard’s great sanctity, approached Gerard in church and begged him to help her sick daughter. Gerard promised to pray for the girl, and a short time later, she was cured.
The noblewoman was overjoyed, and returned to the church to offer her fervent thanks to the saint, whose prayers had miraculously saved her daughter’s life.
Gerard’s response? He did not say, “Aw, shucks, curing her was no big deal. All she had was consumption.” He did not say, “A miracle? I don’t think so. Talk to my superiors; they should set you straight.” He did not say, “Sure, I’m pretty good at obtaining miracles, but I’m not much of a housekeeper. You should see my cell!” He did not say, “Well, you picked a good time to stop in with your appeal, so I saved your daughter. I’m always happy to help before 11:00am.”
Instead, Gerard responded by simply pointing to the tabernacle. It was God who had wrought the miracle, he said, and Gerard was nothing but the vehicle through which He had worked.
Although they may not realize it, all mothers are evangelizers. Whenever and wherever we are with our children, we are silently evangelizing. We evangelize in every grocery aisle, in every church pew, at every Little League game. We evangelize at the zoo, at the doctor’s office, at the playground.
As evangelizers, we need to take a tip from St. Gerard. Instead of writhing under the admiring gaze of those who compliment us, we should take the opportunity to direct their eyes towards the tabernacle.
St. Paul said, “It is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me.” When others notice the good that we do, they are really beholding the Spirit at work in us. Our task is to make them aware of that, and in so doing, give honor to the Source of all goodness.
And isn’t that what evangelism is all about?
***********
The time: A weekday morning
The place: A parish church
The scene: A young mother, holding her baby and leading several older children, is leaving the church after Mass. The mother’s name is Anne Marie. As soon as she exits the church, Anne Marie is approached by a recently married young woman.
Young woman: Excuse me, I just have to ask: Are all those children yours?
Anne Marie: Yes!
Young woman: How wonderful! You must be a saint.
Anne Marie (with a laugh): It’s a family project. We’re all helping one another to become saints.
Young woman: I think you’re such an inspiration! How do you DO it all?
Anne Marie: With the grace of God. He writes my to-do list and He helps me get it done.
Young woman: It’s great that you get to Mass with your kids. I hope that, when I have children, they’re as well-behaved in church as yours are. I can see that you taught your kids well.
Anne Marie: When kids understand what Mass is about, they’re less fidgety and more attentive. And I’m sure that God is pleased to have them at Mass, so He’ll bless my efforts to get them to behave in church!
The young woman smiles at Anne Marie. She has enjoyed their conversation, and says that she hopes to meet Anne Marie another day. The woman waves to the children, and then, still smiling, walks away. She can hardly wait until she’s a mother!
-Finis-
Copyright © 2012, Celeste Behe
Celeste Behe
Celeste Behe is a storyteller and sometime humorist who, according to one book author, "writes like Garrison Keillor would, if he were Catholic and had nine kids." She is also a contributor to Faith & Family magazine, the National Catholic Register, and the Integrated Catholic Life, and she blogs at A Perpetual Jubilee. As a designated Toastmaster, Celeste entertains audiences with both nostalgic tales of her childhood in the Bronx, and modern-day tales of adventure that could only be told by the mother of nine. Celeste's memoir--cum-cookbook, Nine Kids, No Dishwasher: A Celebration of Life, Love, and Table, is a work in progress.
2 responses to “Fielding Hot Potatoes: Mothers as Evangelists”
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This is spot on! We women often downplay so much of what we do and then everyone feels worse instead of better. Thank You!
Thank you, Deanna! And a blessed Advent to you and yours!