St. Monica, Matron
A Homily On The Commemoration of St. Monica, Matron
We live in a confused time. We don't know who we are; in some sad cases, we don't even know what we are. There was a time when words meant things and realities were solid and immovable, universally understood across cultures, generations, and political leanings. 2 +2 is 4. The Sun rises in the east and sets in the west. Man is made in the image of God, and all human life retains inherent dignity above all created things. But The liquidity of modernity is morphing things that once were solid and immovable into the realm of subjectivity, individual interpretation, and absurdity.
Today, things certainly aren't as clear as they once were. Every traditional thing is under attack, challenged, rethought, re-defined, and remade. The old image is being smashed and refashioned in the image of a new orthodoxy, a secular, godless, and non-sacramental image devised by human imagination and ingenuity. The image of God is being liquified in the blender of modernity and progress, so much so that we speak of men who are birthing persons; we hesitate to answer the simplest of questions like "What is a woman?" It's no surprise (and I'm speaking not only of the broader culture but within the church) that stalwart ideas such as fatherhood and motherhood are taking a beating. Perhaps now, more than at any time in recent history, the grace and virtue of Christian womanhood and motherhood are being ridiculed, mocked, and assaulted.
In this prevailing cultural air, women, children, men, and society at large are all suffering the consequences of the confusion swirling around biology and the flattening of gender. When men and women don't know why God made them and the gift of their differences and then don't exercise those gifts, people suffer. When the image of God, found in the creation of both the male and female, gets out of whack, when the Trinitarian image bearers suffer, humanity suffers.
There is a great corrective in today's commemoration of St. Monica, my friends, to be found by recapturing and embracing the God-given gift of biblical motherhood. Let me say on the front end, I'm not excluding the men, and this isn't about elevating women and not Jesus. Today's eucharist and even this homily is about Christian men and women because Christian motherhood has much to do with Jesus.
Our liturgy on this feast day shows us the example of godly women: Tabitha (or Dorcas), Mary, and Martha. Each of these readings is as pieces placed in a mosaic, creating a picture of godly motherhood. And please hear this: when I speak of motherhood, I am not sequestering it to women who give birth to children. Scripture and Christian tradition have a broader understanding of motherhood expressed uniquely through the female image bearer. Women not only mother their biological children but adopted children as well (Pharaoh's daughter raised Moses). Naomi was truly a mother to Ruth. The point is that the God-given gift of motherhood is broadly expressed through women's lives.
Tabitha is the portrait of good works and serving the poor; she was a mother to those in need. She is a picture of motherhood in action, caring and nourishing others, clothing others with her handiwork, and meeting their needs at her own expense without demand or reward. Where Tabitha served others Martha embodies motherly hospitality, inviting the Lord into her house where she tends to the Lord, serving and making him comfortable. On the other hand, Mary sits quietly at the feet of Jesus, her motherhood finding its source in and near Christ. Christian Motherhood flows from a loving relationship with the Lord. It expresses itself through hospitality, serving others, meeting their needs, and selfless giving of self, as exemplified by Tabitha, Mary, and Martha. But there's one other woman to consider today: Monica.
Monica, the mother of Saint Augustine of Hippo, was born to Christian parents in North Africa around 333 AD. Very little is known about her childhood or family life. Now, in case you think we saints have it all together... Monica was married to a pagan, a non-believing Roman named Patricius, known for his violent temper and uncontrollable bad habits. As if that wasn't enough, her mother-in-law, Patricius' Mother, shared the same miserable disposition and wicked temper as her son and contributed to Monica's unhappy life. There's more! Her son, who was a brilliant student, was an extreme narcissist and a youthful hedonist who rebelled against her Christian faith and fathered a child out of wedlock at the age of 19. And yet, these worldly and seemingly hopeless circumstances never defeated her fidelity to her husband and did not diminish a mother's love for her son.
St. Monica was a mother to both. Augustine writes of Monica's motherhood to her husband Patricius, "She busied herself to gain him to You, preaching You unto him by her behavior; by which You made her fair, and reverently amiable, and admirable unto her husband." He continues, "She waited for Your mercy upon him, that by believing in You, he might become chaste. And besides this, as he was earnest in friendship, so was he violent in anger, but she had learned that an angry husband should not be resisted, neither in deed nor even in word" (Conf. IX.)
See what godly qualities of motherhood she displays, witnessing Christ to him through patient love, extended grace, and suffering well with earnest friendship. How like Christ Monica is towards those who opposed and mistreated her, for her love desired not only marital and family peace but the salvation of her husband's soul. Like a good mother, she desired the best for her beloved, no matter the personal cost. And her witness bore fruit, for while the young Augustine was a way at boarding school, his father Patricius believed the Gospel and was baptized into the Christian church, led to a new life in Jesus Christ by his faithful wife.
These words of St. Paul rang true in their marriage, "the unbelieving husband is made holy because of his wife" (1 Cor 7:14). But soon after his rebirth in Christ, Patricius passed away. Grieved by his death but finding peace in the baptism of her husband, Monica vowed never to marry again. And having witnessed the saving of her husband's soul, she single-mindedly devoted herself to saving the soul of her son. Year after year, Monica watched her son's journey move further and further away from God, yet she prayed fervently and faithfully for his conversion to Christ.
For many years, she prayed that Augustine's heart and mind would finally be opened to the truth and love of God in Christ— that he might have an authentic encounter with Jesus and thus be reformed and reoriented toward the will of God. Yet it was as if the Lord was not hearing her. Augustine was being catechized by the philosophies and vain religions of his day. The growing clash between their worldviews and religious outlook only fueled animosity between mother and son. He arrogantly preached his newfound orthodoxy to his mother, spilling his heretical beliefs all over his Christian Mother to the point where she drove her son away from her table.
Time passed, and Monica remained distant from Augustine until one night when she had a vision beckoning her to reconcile with her lost son. When the vision had passed, Monica rushed to confide in her Bishop, her eyes filled with a mother's tears, her mother's heart broken in two. The Bishop looked at her and said, "Go your way; as you live, it cannot be that son of these tears should perish" (Book III, Chapter XII). With these inspirational words in her heart, Monica set out to follow her lost son to Rome.
When Monica arrived in Rome, she learned that her son had left the city for Milan. Pushing her exhaustion aside, Monica persisted to Milan. When Monica arrived in Milan, she met with St. Ambrose. She shared the story of her wayward son, and St. Ambrose advised her to "talk less to your son about God and talk more to God about your son." Monica took these words to heart and laid her son's cause at the foot of the cross.
After 17 years of resistance, Augustine yielded and converted to Christianity. Monica and Augustine spent six months together in true peace, and Augustine was baptized into the faith. Not long after his conversion, Monica passed away. In one of the most moving portions of St. Augustine's book Confessions, he related how Monica identified her life's mission as delivering her child into the life of faith. Just before she died, she said these words,
"Son, as far as I am concerned, nothing in this life now gives me any pleasure. I do not know why I am still here since I have no further hopes in this world. I did have one reason for wanting to live a little longer: to see you become a Christian before I died. God has lavished his gifts on me in that respect, for I know that you have even renounced earthly happiness to be his servant. So what am I doing here?" Days later, she fell ill with a fever and told Augustine to bury her there — to take no concern over her earthly remains but ask for one favor: "…That you [Augustine] remember me at the altar of the Lord wherever you may be."
Godly Motherhood is, in essence, Jesus-like motherhood, doing everything possible to save her children, with long-suffering, pushing on through sleepless nights, constant intercession, shedding tears over a wayward daughter or son, seeking wisdom and strength from God's church, traveling across oceans, and never ceasing to pursue life for the children she loves. For years, she suffered in prayer, mourned for him, wept for him as our Lord wept over Israel, "O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, the city that kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to it! How often would I have gathered your children together as a hen gathers her brood under her wings, and you were not willing!"
Do you hear our Lord setting himself as a mother to Israel like a hen desiring to gather her brood under the safety of her wings? Like a mother who longs for her lost child to return, Jesus wept for people who had lost their way: the sons and daughters of Israel. In a real sense, Jesus embodies godly motherhood as he does godly fatherhood because Jesus is perfected humanity. He is remaking both aspects of the Divine image, the woman and the man, into his likeness.
Jesus longs for the salvation of his wayward children, as a mother desires the same for a child, and at the same time, Jesus is as the father standing on the horizon awaiting the prodigal's return. Monica is a mother who looks a lot like a man named Jesus. And Jesus is, in a certain sense, the very essence of motherhood so beautifully portrayed in the life of St. Monica, the patron saint of mothers and motherhood. Her never-failing love, her unceasing prayer for her child, and her steadfast faith in Jesus Christ is an example to us all, men and women alike. Let us pray,
O God Most High, the creator of all mankind. We bless thy holy name for the virtue and grace which thou hast given unto holy women in all ages, especially thy servant Monica. We pray that the example of her faith and purity may inspire many souls in this generation to look unto thee and to follow thy blessed Son Jesus Christ our Savior, who with thee and the Holy Spirit liveth and reigneth, one God, world without end. Amen.
