How often mothers tell their children to remember their instructions, and follow it up with “don’t forget.” Children tune out the repeated, “Remember to brush your teeth, make your bed, do your homework.” The words go in one ear and out the other.
The annoying refrain jars on little ones who want to have fun, so it is easy to forget. Selective hearing is so apparent, especially when they run out of earshot.
Growing up, the priests in church seemed to like preaching solemnly on death, judgment, heaven, and hell. That could scare us children. God was punitive. My mother, on the other hand, taught us right from wrong by reading the lives of the saints, and singing to us.
I can still hear her sing, “Be careful little hands what you do, be careful little hands what you do. Remember there’s a God above watching over you with love, so be careful little hands what you do.” She proceeded to go through the parts of the body – eyes, ears…
Much later I realized that the melody she sang was the familiar tune, “If you’re happy and you know it clap your hands.” Her message was that if you did something wrong, you were hurting Jesus, who loves us dearly. Yet, God was loving and forgiving.
Stepping into Spring and the Easter season, I am filled with gratitude for my mother’s wisdom, but more for all that God has done for us. Watching the buds open on the trees, and the tulips and crocuses poke their heads through the moist soil, I remember creation as God’s gift of love.
I am enticed to spend glorious moments in the lap of nature and relish it. I also recall Pierre de Chardin’s words, “Teach me to adore it by seeing you hidden within it.”
Joy erupts when I recall that Jesus died and rose for “moi.” God’s unending love and mercy reach me in many tangible ways. Henri Nouwen said, “Nothing helps us make the movement from our little selves to a larger world than remembering God in gratitude. Such a perspective puts God in view in all of life.”
As we shout Alleluias for Christ has risen, the stories of the early Church and the risen Jesus’ encounter with his apostles are so reassuring. Jesus’ promise to them, and us, is to remember, “I am with you always, until the end of the age.” (Mathew 28:20)
What is amazing, is that God never forgets us. Scripture reminds us, “Can a mother forget her infant, be without tenderness for the child of her womb? Even should she forget, I will never forget you.” (Isaiah 49:15). What a gift!
John Powell SJ talks of “the remembered goodness of the Lord.” The biblical stories show us that God never forgets his people, his promise, and his mercy. God remembered Noah and his family and rescued them from the flood (Genesis 8:1)
He remembered Hannah’s longing for a child, and rewarded her with a son, who would become one of Israel’s greatest leaders, the prophet Samuel (1 Samuel 1:19).
We creatures have selective memory, and forget that Jesus is present in the poor and suffering when we pass a homeless person. Sometimes we forget to spend time in prayer, and miss those graced times, when we allow ourselves to be caught up in life’s merry-go-round.
Not so long ago we moved into another area of the city. Imagine our surprise when the doorbell rang, and there stood our next door, 91 years old neighbor holding a wine bottle in her hand. She had dropped by to welcome us into the neighborhood. She was “God with skin on.” It reminded me of Pope Francis’ words, “Every stranger who knocks at our door is an opportunity for an encounter with Jesus Christ.”
While musing about our beginnings, I recall being glued to the TV miniseries Roots, that aired in January 1977. It was based on Alex Haley’s novel about the story of Kunta Kinte a man from Gambia, who was captured and sold into slavery in America. What struck me was that he never forgot his heritage, and neither did his family.
Hopefully, we do not forget our heritage as God’s beloved children. So many years later, I can hear my mother remind me;
“Money lost, little lost.
Good name lost, lots lost.
but soul lost, all lost”