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My mother loved Jesus. But she wasn’t too thrilled with how, at least in her mind, He treated His mom. My mother judged everybody by how they treat their mother. I could tell if she liked or disliked my friends if I heard the phrase, “He’s good to his mother.” Or, “You’d think that he’d treated his mother better than that.”

Now, with Jesus being sinless and Mary conceived without sin, it must be obvious that they had a perfect loving relationship between them. And they did. But it sure didn’t look like that from the outside. At the age of 12 he trots off by himself to hang around the elders in the temple. His mother frantically looking for Him all over the place finally discovers Him and her response is not unlike my mother’s response on the night I came home from my first date at three a.m. “Where in the   H-E-Double-Hockey-Stick have you been!?” Now, at least I had the good sense to keep my mouth shut and look shame facedly toward the ground and take my punishment like the boy that I was. Not Jesus. His response is basically, “What’s your problem? Did you not know I must be about my Father’s business?” And this from a twelve year old. He’d better not talk to my mother like that.

Now, my mother did not call me very often at the parish while I was working but when she did, I had better take the call. “If Mama calls, put her through.” Not so Jesus. While He was teaching, His mother came to call on Him. “Your mother and your brothers are outside looking for You.”   His response? “Who is my mother and my brother?”   And looking at His disciples He said, “These are mothers and brothers to me, all who hear my word and keep it.” We’re not told whether His mother got in or not but if it were my mother, not only would she have gotten in, but I doubt that I would have gotten out... alive.

And for Jesus, it gets worse. I won’t even give you the quote about leaving your family and turning your back on mother and father to follow Him. For me, God forbid that I should forget a Mother’s Day. Even from her perch in Heaven she’d be ticked. And so, “Mommy... Happy Mother’s Day.”

Our culture has a tendency to idealize our mothers, at least on Mother’s Day. I will ask the children as they leave Mass today, “and will you be good to your mother today?” To which the response will be, “Of course.” “And tomorrow...?” Ah, there’s the rub. Truth be told, as wonderful as our relationships are with our mothers, they’re not perfect by a long shot.   After all, we are not dealing with Jesus and His blessed mother and even He seemed to have His difficulties. Truth be told, for most of us our relationships with our mothers are a mixed bag. Oh, dear, how we naturally love our mothers unconditionally as little children. And oh, dear, how much our mothers love us in exactly the same way. A mother’s unconditional love is as close to divine love as we are going to get. No matter how much we screw up, she still loves us. And yet because she is one of us, very human and frail, she has not been able to love us perfectly. And sometimes, it takes a lifetime to come to terms to that.

I knew that I was an adult when I was able to look my mother in the eye and say to myself (God forbid I would ever say it out loud to her) Mom, in so many ways you are the most wonderful woman in the world. And in some ways, you blew it. But guess what I have come to realize? For better and for worse, you are still my mama and I love you. And I will love you forever.

In our fallen dualistic minds we are forever splitting and separating. We either idealize or demonize. We keep our mother on a pedestal and cover up the shadow side or if our experience has been difficult, that’s all we focus on and remember. Truth be told, the reality of life and love is not either/or but both/and. At one and the same time, my mother was and is a daughter of Eve and a daughter of God. I’ll take that. I can not only live with that, but I can love that because it looks a lot like... me and... my father, my brothers, and everyone else in the world I have ever met.

We are called to love, to see, to forgive and love again. Our mothers, like no one else, have given us life. And our mothers, at times, like no one else have wounded that life. But paradoxically it is our wounds precisely that make us whole as they are healed and forgiven. That is what mothers teach their sons (and sons teach their mothers).

From the outside, the relationship between Jesus and His mother can look a little rocky. “Son, they have no wine.” “And... your problem is?” She turns to the servants and says, “Do whatever He tells you.” Now there is a mother who knows her son and son who loves his mother. Happy Mother’s Day.

In Jesus, the Son of His Mother, the Mother of God,