While hiking up Ben Bouie this morning, my mind with my stereotypical thoughts surrounding Mother’s Day. I viewed the UK’s Mothering Sunday as a Roman Catholic, Mary-worshipping observance, intertwined with Lent, which I found unbiblical and questionable.
As I made my way up the cold morning climb, I found myself lost in thought: was it okay to honour my wife and the mother of my kids today, or could it be seen as dodgy theology?
Searching online helped clarify things for me. Mothering Sunday is rooted more in historical Anglican traditions than Catholic ones; there's no worship of Mary here!
Instead, it's a sweet medieval nod to the “mother church” and a lovely opportunity for family visits, all enjoyed with a delicious Simnel cake.
My preconceived notion of it being a papist scheme fell apart quicker than dry ground beneath my feet. While it may not be scriptural, it certainly isn't heresy; it's merely a cultural acknowledgement of mothers.
The sun emerged as I reached the summit, and I had shed the guilt. Lunch with my wife and kids felt like a victory, not a compromise. It's funny how a hill and deep thoughts can clear the mental fog.
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