Worship - Sermons - 5/14/06

‘Nother Mother

Romans 16:13

William F. Schnell

May 14, 2006

The title of our message is not a misprint.  It is taken from the lyrics of a song, whose first stanza is printed at the top of our bulletin (“You’ve been my ‘nother mother since, My mother passed away, And what your love has given me, I never can repay”).  It speaks, not of a motherless child, but of one who found another mother after losing his birth mother to death.  It is a song that communicates much fondness, ending with the words: “Still, I will be all I can, And give you all my love, For you’ve the best, most selfless heart, A person could dream of.” 

When Rev. Horak was 10 years old his mother took ill and died.  There is no good age to lose one’s mother, but the tender age of 10 is certainly a tragic time to suffer such a loss.  That is when children have come to know and depend upon their mothers.  To lose them when needed most would challenge one’s view of the world as a safe and secure place to be.  But fortunately for us, Rev. Horak found a “‘Nother Mother” in Theda Horak.  I say fortunately for us because Rev. Horak would not be the kind and caring Pastor we know him to be without the nurturing influence of his “’Nother Mother.”

Interestingly enough the Pastor I served with in Milwaukee also lost his mother, only in his case it was in the process of delivering him as a premature baby.  He never knew his birth mother.  The only mother he knew was his “’Nother Mother,” who raised him up to be a fine Minister.  He has served his present congregation for the past 3 decades, 8 years of which I was privileged to serve with him as an Associate Minister.  Occasionally he will call me while driving by on the turnpike.  “Stop in and see us,” I will plead.  But he is a man on a mission.  He is driving to see his “’Nother Mother,” in Pittsburgh.

This common experience of both my colleagues reminds me of yet another Minister of the Gospel.  John Todd was born in Rutledge, Vermont, into a family of several children.  They later moved to the village of Killingsworth about the time The Church in Aurora was being founded.  And there, at a very young age, both John's parents died.  The relatives wondered what they would do with so many children, how they could parcel them out to other friends and relatives.  One dear and loving aunt said she would take little John.  The aunt sent a horse and a slave to get John, who was only six at the time.  The slave, Caesar, came and put the little boy on the back of the horse. 

On the way back an endearing conversation took place: John: Will she be there?  Caesar: Oh, yes, she'll be there waiting up for you.  John: Will I like living with her?  Caesar: My son, you fall into good hands.  John: Will she love me?  Caesar: Ah, she has a big heart.  John: Will I have my own room?  Will she let me have a puppy?  Caesar: She's got everything all set, son.  I think she has some surprises, too.  John: Do you think she'll go to bed before we get there?  Caesar: Oh, no! She'll be sure to wait up for you.  You'll see when we get out of these woods.  You'll see her candle shining in the window.

When they got to the clearing, sure enough, there was a candle in the window and she was standing in the doorway.  She reached down, kissed him, and said, "Welcome home!"  She fed him supper, took him to his room, and waited until he fell asleep.  John Todd grew up to be a great minister of the gospel.  But it was there with his aunt, his “’Nother Mother,” that he grew up.  It was always a place of enchantment because of her.  It awed him that she had given him a second home.

Years later, long after he had moved away, his aunt wrote to tell him of her impending death.  Her health was failing and she wondered what was to become of her.  This is what John Todd wrote her:  "My Dear Aunt, Years ago I left a house of death not knowing where I was to go, whether anyone cared, whether it was the end of me.  The ride was long but the slave encouraged me.  Finally, he pointed out your candle to me, and there we were in the yard and you embraced me and took me by the hand into my own room that you had made up. 

After all these years I still can't believe it - how you did all that for me!  I was expected; I felt safe in that room - so welcomed.  It was my room.  Now it's your turn to go, and as one who has tried it out, I'm writing to let you know that Someone is waiting up.  Your room is all ready, the light is on, the door is open, and as you ride into the yard - don't worry, Auntie.  You're expected!  I know.  I once saw God standing in your doorway - long ago!"

There seems to be an association here between “‘Nother Mothers” and ministers of the Gospel.  That is the case for me, as we shall see in a moment, but also for the Apostle Paul.  Our text for today is a brief verse from a seemingly inconsequential chapter of the book of Romans.  The first 16 verses are comprised of Paul’s personal greetings to over a score of believers, many of whom he mentions by name, belonging to the church in Rome.

I say that this text is seemingly inconsequential because we do not know anything about most of them.  Take our text for example.  Greet Rufus, chosen in the Lord… (Verse 13).  Who is Rufus?  Mark tells us in his Gospel that Simon of Cyrene, the man who carried Jesus’ cross, had two sons: Alexander and Rufus (Mark 15:21).  Could this Roman citizen possibly be the same Rufus?  Maybe, although Rufus was not an uncommon name in that place and time.

But then Paul goes on to send his greetings to Rufus’ mother who, he writes, has been a mother to me, too (Verse 13)—a ’’Nother Mother,” as our title puts it.  Somewhere along the line Rufus’ mother took Paul in and took care of his needs as he sought to share the Gospel.  She probably gave him a bed to sleep in under her roof, and cooked meals for him and washed his clothes.

Paul tried to take care of his own needs through a combination of being a part-time tentmaker and drastically scaling back on his requirements.  To the Philippians he writes, I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty.  I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want.  I can do everything through him who gives me strength.  Yet, he writes in the very next verse, it was good of you to share in my troubles (Philippians 4:12-14).  Paul always appreciated a love offering being taken to help with his expenses. 

And he clearly appreciated the care and concern of his “’Nother Mother.”  We can well imagine that, in addition to cooking and cleaning for him, she may also have been a welcomed listening ear as he poured out his struggles with the crosses he was called to bear.  Maybe she was responsible for certain little touches, akin to getting a note of encouragement in a lunch box.  On the other hand, Paul being the overzealous type by nature, we can also imagine her scolding him from time to time to slow down and be more careful. 

In these and other ways Rufus’ mother became a “’Nother Mother” to Paul and he was grateful for her.  Perhaps he was also influenced by her to extend the same kindness to others.  Paul could never be a “’Nother Mother” to someone, being the wrong gender and therefore ill-suited to fulfill the role.  But he could be a father figure to someone who had need for such an influence; such as he was for several young men in the early church. 

For example, he writes to Philemon I appeal to you for my son Onesimus, who became my son while I was in chains (Philemon 1:10).  Just as Rufus’ mother had become a mother to Paul, so had Onesimus become a son to him.  Timothy likewise became a son, as he testifies in his letter to the Philippians, …you know that Timothy has proved himself, because as a son with his father he has served with me in the work of the gospel (Philippians 2:22).  And so it goes for Titus whom he refers to as my true son in our common faith (Titus 1:4).

Clearly, Paul saw in his “’Nother Mother” a deep expression of Christian love.  Having been on the receiving end of that love, he felt constrained to offer his paternal version of it to others as God opened the door of opportunity.  Somebody with a doctoral dissertation to write should explore if there is a consistent connection between those with a pastor’s heart and a strong “’Nother Mother” in their background.  There sure seems to be such a connection for Rev. Horak here, Rev. Schimpf in Milwaukee, Rev. Todd in the early days of our country and the Apostle Paul in the early days of the church.

I might also add myself to that list.  While I have had the benefit of fiercely loving mother throughout life and even to this day, I have had several “’Nother Mother’s” who have played a crucial role in my development.  I do not think one has to be motherless to have need for a “‘Nother Mother.”  Neither do I think a “’Nother Mother” requires biological children of her own to know how to express caring, nurturing maternal love, which is why we have roses for all the ladies here today.

I actually called Pauline Grube “Mom” while working with a group of seminarians (and one pre-med student) as Student Chaplains for Grant Hospital in Columbus.  We all called her “Mom.”  Officially she was the secretary to the Chaplain, but she was “Mom” to us.  You could tell her anything because she was such a good, nonjudgmental listener.  And we had a lot to talk about as we struggled with our emotions and sense of inadequacy in providing spiritual care for the sick and dying.  When you were feeling discouraged and depressed, “Mom Gruber” knew how to make you feel better.

Then there was Virginia Swift, the mother of my best friend.  I decimated that poor woman’s pantry every day of high school.  She had the bad fortune of living within and easy walk of school.  Why eat cafeteria food when you can have home-cooked?  You know high schoolers; they never think that somebody had to pay for that leftover pork tenderloin they just scarfed down.  Heavens, I thought I was doing her a favor the way she liked to cook for me day-after-day. 

Some “’Nother Mother’s” cook for you, some listen to your cares and concerns, and some of them have the chutzpah to discipline you when you’ve got it coming.  Virginia Selvey was my pastor’s wife the first 28 years of my life.  She was also my choir director from the Littlest Choir to the Chancel Choir.  Mrs. Selvey had a zero tolerance policy when it came to shenanigans during her choir rehearsals.  Now imagine me, Mr. Attention Deficit, in her children’s choir.

There I’d be, standing in the risers cutting up with Forest Lines and testing Mrs. Selvey’s patience to the max.  Finally I would make one whisper to many and she would stop everything and say, “Billy Schnell, if you have something to say to Forest I think you ought to share it with us all.”  And I would sheepishly say, “That’s okay Mrs. Selvey.  It’s not that important."  But she would not let it go.  "No, Billy, it was clearly important enough to disrupt our choir rehearsal, so I think we all deserve to know what you said.” 

So I would acquiesce.  “I was just asking Forest if I could have a piece of his gum.”  And Mrs. Selvey would respond, “Forest Lines is chewing gum in my rehearsal?”  And all of a sudden you could hear a big gulp coming from Forest as he swallowed a big wad of chewing gum.  After a public humiliation like that, Mrs. Selvey did not have to work too hard to keep me in line.  When my attention was about to wander or I was about to crack some joke or even think of pulling a prank, all Mrs. Selvey had to do was just cast a glance in my direction and I’d straighten right up.

When she died this past year I was called to the very prestigious Central College Presbyterian Church to offer her eulogy to a packed house.  She could have had more accomplished preachers participate, having known quite a few prominent pastors in her time (she had, in fact, been the personal secretary to Dr. Roy Burkhardt, a co-architect of the International Council of Community Churches).  But no, she had made provisions for me to do it.  In her mind I had turned out okay after all, and she felt like she had had something to do with that as a “’Nother Mother” in my life.

Happy Mother’s Day to every woman with the grace to use her God-given maternal instinct in nurturing God’s precious children whether you are a biological mother or an adoptive mother or a foster mother or grandmother - a “’Nother Mother”.  Happy Mother’s Day to you!