St. Tom's Mom & The Way of Motherhood

I am a mother, but not like others. My child never lived in this world outside of my womb. I don’t see my child, and his whereabouts are obscure to me. I never raised my child, he was not physically entrusted to me long enough for that. But his mother, I remain. 

And I think my motherhood in relation to this child will be a process, one that parallels the journey of all mothers. This dynamic process of which I speak seems to have two major components: 1) the spiritual dimension of motherhood, even for physical mothers, and 2) maternal growth in tandem with the mother’s relationship to God.

Here at Ave Maria University, where I have the pleasure of taking a summer course while my husband writes his dissertation, there is a great emphasis on the works of St. Thomas Aquinas. So what does the Master say about Motherhood? I’m not sure whether he has any pious or pithy quotes about the beauty or purpose of the vocation, but what I did find, is a little information about his own mother.

Theodora Carraciola was a Countess of Teano and mother of nine, the youngest of whom is Thomas.

The future holiness of the unborn babe was disclosed to his mother by a holy hermit of the neighborhood, known simply as Buono, or God's good man. Clad in a rough garment, and with hair unkempt, he presented himself at Rocca Secca, and pointing to a picture of the holy patriarch St. Dominic, who was not yet canonized, he thus addressed the Countess: "Lady, be glad, for thou art about to have a son whom thou shalt call Thomas. Thou and thy husband will think if making him a monk in the Abbey of Monte Cassino, where St. Benedict's body reposes, in the hopes that your son will attain to its honors and wealth. But God has disposed otherwise, because he will become a friar of the Order of Preachers and so great will be his learning and sanctity that his equal will not be found through the whole world." Theodora listened with awe to the presage, then, falling upon her knees, exclaimed "I am all unworthy of bearing such a son, but, God's will be done according to His good pleasure".

Theodora appears to be docile to God’s will for her child. However, in any situation there are challenges to seeing the hand of God and discerning His will. The question isn’t “To act, or not to act?,” but rather “What is the right thing for me to do for my child in this situation?” I can appreciate that while the role of a mother changes as the child becomes an adult, the ongoing nature of this question remains.

Despite giving her “fiat” to the prediction according to the above account, we know that it was not so easy in reality. Theodora, if we give her the benefit of the doubt, still wants what’s best for her child, hence God’s will, when she tries to prevent him from becoming a Dominican. In actions reminiscent of St. Monica’s pursuit of Augustine, Theodora travels to Naples, then Rome, in hopes of apprehending her son, but she had just missed him in both locations.

I know many instances of parents trying to thwart their children’s plans in what they perceive as attempts to save them from bad decisions. The sentiment is noble, and the desire to protect your children is necessary. But so is the notion that they, in the end, do not belong to you— they belong to God. This is where our relationship with our children intersects with our relationship to God. Both relationships require a great deal of trust in God’s providence, and the trust that develops in our own relationship with God is essential in the role of motherhood.

As my husband and I prepare our hearts and our lives for the gift of another child one day, if God wills it, we too are called upon to increase our faith— our trust that God will provide.

The temptation to make ourselves gods in parenthood is real. And while parents do hold great responsibility towards and authority over their children, their power is not infinite. Even the omnipotent God grants free will to his children. This acknowledgement of the limits of parental control could be a consolation— my child’s good is not merely dependent upon my parenting. But it is also a source of great suffering— I am powerless to “fix” or “save” my children.

Thus, parenthood continually provides an opportunity for suffering born out of love for our children. Opportunities to lay down our obscurity, not understanding the ways in which the Lord is working in their lives, at His feet. To trust that the One who loves them more than we ever could, has the power to save them.  

This is the way of motherhood.