As Mother’s Day rolls around this weekend, we pull out the cards, flowers, brunch menus, and heartfelt Facebook posts about the women who raised us, nurtured us, and (let’s be honest) put up with us. 

But this Mother’s Day, let’s widen the lens a little. What if we also celebrated Mother Earth, that slightly older, more-than-a-little-patient matriarch who’s been feeding us, sheltering us, and giving us oxygen since, well, the beginning?

In the very first chapters of Genesis, we read about God crafting the world: light and dark, land and sea, seed-bearing plants, and creatures great and small. And then, after all of that, came humanity. But the earth wasn’t just a backdrop. Creation wasn’t just a one-and-done project. It was and is a living, breathing expression of divine love. And it’s still unfolding.

Progressive Christianity invites us to see God not as a distant architect but as a present and relational Creator. In that spirit, Mother Earth isn’t just a poetic metaphor—it’s a sacred reality. The soil under our feet, the oceans that pulse like a heartbeat, the bees that make brunch possible; this living planet is not only our home but also our responsibility.

And here’s where it gets tricky (and funny, in a cosmic irony kind of way). For all of our talk of loving our mothers, we’ve been kind of terrible kids to this one. We leave our stuff all over her floors (plastic, mostly). We ignore her warnings (floods, fires, heat waves). And we act shocked when she finally says, “Enough is enough!” Honestly, it’s like we think she can just keep picking up after us forever.

But here’s the good news (and there’s always good news): it’s never too late to change. As our lives grow wider and we mature, we find our independence from our mothers. But we can always come back. We can plant trees, cut emissions, choose reusable over disposable, protest against the delight taken in destroying environmental safeguards, and vote for policies that protect the sacred ground we walk on. 

Every small act of caring is a way of saying, “Thanks, Mom.”

So this Mother’s Day, as we toast the moms who packed our lunches and wiped our tears, let’s also raise a glass to the one who has sustained every element needed for life itself. Let’s honor her not just with our words, but with our actions.

Because loving Mother Earth isn’t just environmentalism. It’s a spiritual practice. It’s worship. It’s love in action. 

And if we can do that, maybe we’ll finally be the kind of kids she can brag about.

See you in church,

–Rev. Dominic