This mystery of Love be sung,
In every age, by every tongue.
Every year at 5a.m. on May the 1st a very unique tradition takes place in the University town of Oxford, England. That morning, known as May Morning, the choir from the chapel of Magdalen College (pronounced “Maudlin”) climbs to the top of its medieval bell tower and sings a hymn to the rising sun. This tradition dates back at least 500 years and is now the occasion for great revelry and festivities in the street below Magdalen College tower.
Not many colleges or universities can point to traditions that are over 500 years old, but every school has traditions that it clings to with an almost religious zeal. So often the world thinks of young people as being anti-establishment or anti-tradition, but take a walk on any college campus and you are sure to find scores of young adults eagerly participating in traditions that range from the mundane to the bizarre. In New Haven, Connecticut there is a statue in the middle of Yale University’s old campus with a golden toe, polished by being constantly rubbed by students for good luck; at Dartmouth University the winter’s first snowfall each year is celebrated by a snowball fight on the college green; this year almost every college and high school commencement ceremony will begin with the familiar tune “Pomp and Circumstance.” When life is filled with change and turmoil, as the lives of many young adults are, it can be very reassuring to have something stable and dependable to hold on to. Perhaps it is for this reason that it is common to refer to our school as our “alma mater,” which is Latin for “nourishing mother.”
Our schools, like our mothers, should protect us, build us up, and give us the skills we need to survive in a tumultuous and changing world. We also refer to “mother church” for much the same reason: because it is there as a reliable source of love and encouragement when the rest of the world is more fickle with its affections. Our mothers’ are responsible for teaching us many of the traditions that we turn to for comfort later in life. Whether our traditions are taught to us by mother school, mother church, or our real mother, they are our connection to the past and our legacy to the future. The Church remembers three special mothers this month: Mary, Elizabeth and Monica. For catholics, the month of May is dedicated to the Virgin Mary (arguably the most famous mother of all) and the Feast of the Visitation recalls her visit to the home of her cousin Elizabeth, who was soon to become a mother herself. One wonders what traditions and what elements of character these two women transmitted to their sons. We often talk about the “fathers” of the Church, people like Saint Augustine of Hippo, who spilt ink and sometimes blood defending the faith, but the fact that Augustine was a Christian at all is directly the result of the persistence of his mother Monica. Receiving out faith at the hands of our mothers is not just a Christian phenomenon either: in the Jewish tradition, one is considered Jewish if they are born to a Jewish mother. Like our traditions, our mothers connect us to the past and give birth to our future; they are a reminder that we are not floating alone in some soulless cosmos, but are connected physically, emotionally and spiritually to the world around us. The Magdalen College choir sings an ancient song on May Morning, which gives thanks to the Holy Trinity for the gift of the Eucharist, which in Christian theology fills us with God’s life; may we too give thanks this May for the sources of life and love in our own lives.
Blessings,
Fr. Kevin
