Fourth Sunday of Easter

Welcome Statement

Good morning, Church—and a very Happy Mother’s Day to each of you.

Today, we honor the women who have shaped us: mothers and grandmothers, aunts and adoptive moms, godmothers and spiritual mothers. Some of them were our primary caretakers and raised us. Others walked alongside us as we grew up. All of them left an imprint that reaches beyond biology—because motherhood, in its truest form, is deeply spiritual.

These women give us our first sense of right and wrong. They bring order to the chaos of our childhoods. Most of all, they become the first vessels of love in our lives.

That’s why, back in 1905, Anna Jarvis felt a calling to do something after her own mother passed. A few years later, in 1908, she helped organize the very first Mother’s Day celebration—right here in West Virginia, at Andrews Methodist Episcopal Church in Grafton.

It’s no surprise, really. You see, here in Appalachia, we carry a deep reverence for family and community. Even in the long shadow of the Civil War and the hardship of reconstruction, people still it prudent to honor the ones who nurtured them, loved them, and helped them heal.

And I think that still says something about what kind of power motherhood holds. How important that nurturing role is in a child’s life. Practically speaking from experience, I certainly see it from Olivia, she has the patience where I feel spread thin from the demands of both work and parenthood, she has the wisdom needed to figure out how to speak to a child when I struggle to relate to my daughter. Where I fall, she manages to pick me up. I am known to have a temper, at least to Olivia, and so if I am being honest, sometimes I imagine for Olivia that she is raising two kids! That’s the truth of Mothers, of wives though, as husbands, we grow alongside them, and they give us the gift of life that we can never take for granted. I want to make sure we cherish that and give it the reverence it deserves. But there is a flip side to Mother’s day, for those who have experienced loss, or were robbed of the chance of parenthood, these women too deserve a witness to today. It is the initiation of trust, that shows what we are made of, the leap of faith in these difficult moments. So I want us to think and feel for those as well today who find themselves grieving, of losing their own mothers, of losing a child, of losing the potential for life. How do we deal with this pain? How do we find the silver lining? As a man, I cannot speak to the same depth of the issue as a grieving mother or grieving daughter or son might, but I can help share some of Christ’s reality in the midst of it. You see, the lectionary points us to a pretty important passage that helps us reflect the reality of the Resurrection. We find ourselves in Acts 9, where Peter, by the authority of Christ, takes on that authority, we call it the priesthood of all believers, and resurrects a woman named Tabatha. You will see how Tabatha relates to mother’s day, in a tangential but very unexpected and glorifying way.

NT Reading - Acts 9:36-43

Acts 9:36–43 NRSV

Now in Joppa there was a disciple whose name was Tabitha, which in Greek is Dorcas. She was devoted to good works and acts of charity. At that time she became ill and died. When they had washed her, they laid her in a room upstairs. Since Lydda was near Joppa, the disciples, who heard that Peter was there, sent two men to him with the request, “Please come to us without delay.” So Peter got up and went with them; and when he arrived, they took him to the room upstairs. All the widows stood beside him, weeping and showing tunics and other clothing that Dorcas had made while she was with them. Peter put all of them outside, and then he knelt down and prayed. He turned to the body and said, “Tabitha, get up.” Then she opened her eyes, and seeing Peter, she sat up. He gave her his hand and helped her up. Then calling the saints and widows, he showed her to be alive. This became known throughout Joppa, and many believed in the Lord. Meanwhile he stayed in Joppa for some time with a certain Simon, a tanner.

Old Testament Point #1

For the Widows, this was a distressing time, their point of grounding, a woman who acted like both a spiritual mother and daughter to this widows, giving them the things they needed. But as we saw in John 10, Christ proclaimed that his sheep would have eternal life. Tabitha was a part of this group declared to receive eternal life. Death was not able to snatch that away from her. Because Christ carried the divine name of authority, Yashuah, we find ourselves reigning with him as co-heirs over death. Our hearts, our organs, these bodies may fail, but they will resurrect out of the ash.

Old Testament Point #2

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Old Testament Point #3

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New Testament Reading - John 10:22-30

John 10:22–30 NRSV

At that time the festival of the Dedication took place in Jerusalem. It was winter, and Jesus was walking in the temple, in the portico of Solomon. So the Jews gathered around him and said to him, “How long will you keep us in suspense? If you are the Messiah, tell us plainly.” Jesus answered, “I have told you, and you do not believe. The works that I do in my Father’s name testify to me; but you do not believe, because you do not belong to my sheep. My sheep hear my voice. I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish. No one will snatch them out of my hand. What my Father has given me is greater than all else, and no one can snatch it out of the Father’s hand.The Father and I are one.”

New Testament Point #1

When a mother or daughter passes, we grieve. We despair. Sometimes all we can do is wear the sackcloth and sit in ashes—just like our ancestors did in mourning.

Like Anna Jarvis, who created Mother’s Day to honor her own mother, we often find ourselves undone by grief. And in that grief, we can become like lye—formed from the salt of our tears and the fire of our sorrow. On its own, lye is caustic. It burns. It isolates.

Some of us retreat, afraid of hurting others. Some of us lash out, desperately trying to preserve what was. That’s not evil—it’s human. Anna wasn’t wrong to want to hold on to the sacredness of what she’d built. I wouldn’t dare criticize the creator of something we hold so dear.

But the question remains: what do we do with the lye?

Lye alone destroys—but when mixed with the right elements, it purifies. It transforms. It becomes something that cleanses.

This, I believe, is part of what Christ means when He calls us the salt of the earth. We’re not here just to preserve—we’re here to transform. Not chemically, but spiritually. Through our interactions, our love, our faithfulness, we create something new.

The body of Christ is always reforming. And we grow not just through scripture and doctrine, but through the relentless love of others—especially the mothers, grandmothers, and women of faith who refused to give up on us.

That’s how the ashes become beauty. That’s how the lye becomes grace.

New Testament Point #2

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New Testament Point #3

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Closing Statement

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Closing Prayer

Heavenly Father, adfs asdfa

Amen.

Doxology / Benediction / Closing

May you Have a Blessed Sunday, and rest of your Week! Amen!