St. Emilia – Patroness of Mothers

I’m driving out to visit my parents next month, just in time for Mother’s Day. Spring is slow in coming, but I’ll be bringing fresh eggs from my hens to celebrate the Easter season with them. Mother’s Day isn’t something I care much about, but my mom will enjoy having her grandchildren around her on that day. And I’ll enjoy baking for them. If the weather co-operates, I’ll be able to work in my mom’s garden a bit, pulling out some of her overgrown plants to take away and neatening up the beds. My sister will be driving up from her home in the Deep South, and my brother, who lives locally, will be part of the gathering as well. Only my youngest brother, my husband, and my sister’s husband will miss out on this Mother’s Day gathering.

In a way, I feel like our far-flung family has built up a solid relationship, and it’s nice to see us tending to our aging parents in our own ways. When I’m praying through family relationships and aging parents, St. Emilia of Caesarea has been a constant source of comfort and inspiration. She’s not a well-known saint, but her story is rich with insights and her maternal presence is consistently supportive.

Emilia of Caesarea

St. Emilia is called the “Mother of Saints” because of her ten children, five have been officially canonized. Her sons Basil the Great, Gregory of Nyssa, Peter of Sebaste, and Naucratius are venerated as saints, and her daughters Macrina the Younger and Theosebia are a saint and a blessed, respectively. With such an abundance of recognized saints among her children, I’ve always considered Emilia as an inspiration in mothering. What did she do so right that she formed her children’s minds in wisdom and their souls in holiness?

Her husband, St. Basil the Elder, is an essential part of the puzzle. He was a lawyer and rhetorician, the son of St. Macrina the Elder. His son, Gregory of Nyssa, later writes that Basil was “known for the gravity of his life.” His gentleness, constancy, and wisdom formed the bedrock of his family.

Both husband and wife were renowned for their gentleness and attentive care. In a time when many mothers of her class hired nurses to care for their children full time, Emilia nursed her children herself and spent hours guiding them. Gregory praises his mother for her devotion to her children, particularly for her attentive teaching. Emilia was the primary educator of her young children, and worked hard to weed out the negative influences in their education.

Along with her husband, St. Emilia also had the help of her mother-in-law, St. Macrina the Elder. Macrina the Elder lived with the family. Like her son and daughter-in-law, Macrina was also a scholar, having studied under St. Gregory Thaumaturgus. The patroness of widows, Macrina the Elder is a model for grandparents. Her steady presence in the background of the busy household of Caesarea must have allowed her daughter-in-law, Emilia, to spend more time with her family and less on the day-to-day tasks of running a home. I know that when my parents or in-laws are close at hand, there’s a sense of reassurance – an extra set of hands or just another perspective to help me plan my day.

The Later Years

When most of her children had grown and gone – into holy marriages or religious life, Emilia, now a widow, lived with her daughter Macrina. They converted their large, country house into a community of consecrated virgins. Members of their community came from all ranks of life. Former aristocrats and former slaves lived under the same Rule, with the same rights and obligations.

When she died, Emilia had her eldest and youngest children caring for her. Macrina and Peter attended their mother in her last illness, and her children buried her beside her husband, Basil. Her feast day is the 30th of May.

Patron of Mothers

When we read Gregory of Nyssa’s accounts of his family, we can see the love and admiration that inspires him. Gregory praises the devotion of his mother, the wisdom of his father, he praises his siblings and his grandmother. There is so much affection in his writing. One of the things that stands out to me about Emilia, is that her children – feeling so loved and nurtured by her – longed to love and nurture her as well.

That nurturing attention, that longing to be with our children, means the world to children – even when they’ve grown and moved away. When my siblings and I come home to visit, I hear my mother sigh and settle. Her children and grandchildren are near, she’s content. On Mother’s Day, our culture encourages moms to disengage from family. To check out and spend some time on themselves. But if Mother’s Day is to be a celebration of motherhood, maybe we should imitate St. Emilia instead. It’d be lovely if Mother’s Day became a day when mother’s focused wholeheartedly on mothering – whether by treating our children to some extra nurturing, or by “mothering” our own aging parents. St. Emilia, pray for us.