By Dr. John E. Morgan

Pastor–Collinsville Baptist Church

Mother.  My three sisters made it into a six syllable word.

Mooooottthhhher.  Followed by an accusation against me.  A false accusation.  They always started it.  They always hit me back first.  Then they played their trump card.  “Mooothher.  He’s hitting me.  Talking to me.  Make him stop.”

And my mother would come in to see what was happening.  You will be shocked to learn that sometimes she sided with my sisters.  And I got punished.  Sometimes there was a broken rule – no throwing a ball in the house.  And we both got punished.  You will be happy to know that sometimes she sided with me.  And they were punished.  Justice.

We might have thought she decided wrong.  But we always accepted her judgment.  I might have had my lip stuck out as I walked away.  But she was mother.  Her word was final.  And there was another thing about her that made us accept her decision.

Recently I was having a get-together with my sisters and some other family members.  We actually get along really well with my sisters.  Now that they have matured.  Finally.

I had written an article about my mother.   I asked my sisters what they would have said about mother.  There was immediate agreement.  The one thing they each said was “love”.  She was love.  Unconditional love.

I agreed.  That was why it was easy to accept her rulings.  Love.  She loved us.

We spent a lot of time telling stories at our get-together.  We bring games.  But what we mostly do is talk.  And tell the old stories.

One of the stories revealed a disagreement about the facts.  We agreed that my dad, uncle and grandfather went hunting.  And that my uncle got hit with a couple of shotgun shell pellets and was knocked down.  He was unharmed except for the pellets behind his ear.  It had been told as a funny family story for years.  But we disagreed as to who shot who.  I had my version.  My cousin had hers.  We are both sure that our version is the right one.  And the other one is wrong.

We couldn’t call our parents and ask which story is right.  Three are in heaven and the other does not remember well.  There is nobody to set the story straight.  So she left believing her version of the story.  And I left certain my version is right.

Where do you go when you can’t say moootthhhher?  You just have to agree to disagree.  Or, if you are like most Americans, you just disagree.  And think how foolish the other person is.  And get angry.

That happens a lot because Americans do not want to accept anyone but themselves as being in charge.  We are a country that has decided to ignore God.  There is a verse in the Bible that says, in those days there was no king in Israel.  Everyone did what was right in his own eyes.*   That’s where America is right now.  Everyone does what is right in their own eyes.

We make right and wrong a matter of majority – if 51% say something is right it is.  Or emotions – if someone really feels they are a bird, let them jump off the roof.  How dare you tell them they are not a bird.

How silly that is.  Deciding right and wrong on emotions.  Or majority.  The verse above – everyone did what was right in their own eyes describes Israel 3,000 years ago.  And the result was chaos and rampant immorality.  A culture with adults acting like selfish little children who constantly argue.  Sound familiar?

What America needs – what we need -- is someone in charge.  Someone who knows what is right and wrong. Someone who will always love us.  Unconditionally. We may not be able to say “moootthher”.  But we can say “Our Father”.

* Judges 21:25