> "What do you make of the claim that the unearned love a baby receives is our bulwark against despair?"
One thought is it's great because the scriptures tell us that we "bring nothing to the table" but our own need in our relationship with God. Nothing but our own sins--a cost to him. A newborn is an approximation of that--a human who is utterly unable to give us anything but need. (and those needs often trouble us greatly.) Yet often we are happy to do something for them. Maybe sort of a symbol.
On the other hand, there's the Benjamin Franklin sane response to someone questioning "of what practical use" a hot-air balloon is: "Of what practical use is a newborn baby?" We look upon them with hope. There's such wonderful hope: We hope this child will grow into something far greater than she is now, a woman the world has not yet known, and do things I cannot. This squalling baby boy, God willing, will be a man someday, perhaps doing great exploits and showering kindness upon many.
I also think, "Wow, babies aren't visible enough to some people!" (I grew up pretty much out of contact with babies, except the time of seeing my 15-months-younger sis being a baby... of which I don't have tons of memories.) So like, an infant was an unknown entity. They're the sort of human that at a certain stage I would dub "Mr. Flippy" because it was hilarious to watch them GAIN THE ABILITY to FLIP over. That level of helplessness at which a newborn begins was kind of unimaginable to me.
I love hearing stories of my friends as children. (This is one of my pet things.) Obviously, I can't go to them and comfort the child-version of them now, but wow, those are so significant. Especially because of the whole "having significantly less power to obtain what they desire" thing. I think it sparks compassion.
It may not be a bulwark against despair for an entire community, but for the individual child, growing up in the knowledge of that love is a very effective guard. If you know you always have a safe place to land, no matter what you do or don't do, if you soar to any heights, you are free to soar in joy rather than desperation to earn some value. You already have the value; everything else is extra: then you are paradoxically more free to attempt things, because you know that no matter what goes wrong, you can't lose that love.
It (and this conversation prompt) is a good reminder that children do not come with obvious, immediate utility. They cost a lot, require a lot of care, and they force us out of chronos time (and into kairos time, as you've written about). They are good, even for all their dependence, because life is good and worth participating in and passing on.
Cultural and economic issues aside, that's why (on average) Christians have more children. We can make wise choices about family, but in the end we aren't after the most seamless, streamlined, most controlled life there is. We don't despair of life. It's worth inviting children into, because they are signs of hope and the goodness of the life we've been gifted.
this is such a retro-fitting argument. no one remembers being an infant but we are all the product of love and someone wanted us. really? not only is this irrational and pretty much pure nonsense, it's silly. if you want to put across a notion of religious 'love' , then state it as such. but, in this dimension, looking back on a past we cannot possibly remember and adapting our reasoning to make the circumstances of our birth all happy no matter what they might really have been is not productive. it's delusional.
I'm really not a fan of twitter, where nuance goes to die. If what you're saying is that it doesn't make sense to argue for better policies now because they benefit babies and everyone was a baby, I agree it doesn't really make sense. A policy implemented today will benefit future babies, not current adults who were babies a long time ago.
I'm also with you on the point that many babies are *not loved* in real corporeal life, and that fact is actually just cause *for* despair (perhaps I'm reading this into your comment).
But this brings me back to the central thrust of a lot of Leah's work - that societally we have an obligation to care for babies and ensure they and their parents receive adequate support. Not simply because it benefits the people who have babies, but because it benefits our collective future. We are our parents future. Children and babies are ours (whether they are our children and babies or not).
martha, in practical application, i'm completely with you! i'm a strong supporter of policies that benefit children and families because these policies support us all. the local advocacy agency for foster and adoptive care is a beneficiary of both my volunteer hours and my charitable giving. i just don't see the point in placing the fuzzy lens of pseudo-religion on this very important area. as with so many areas of life, i see people seeming to justify why they do the right thing, couching it in religious terms. no. there's a right and a wrong. even a good and a better. we don't need religion to show us that. it doesn't hurt us but it's not necessary to the goal and often can muddy the waters when the message seems to be limited to one religion rather than being universal - as it is in this case. do the right thing - take care of children and families, especially when they are vulnerable. these are members of our society of humans and are deserving.
I've been musing on this - I think something you and I might both be getting at is that saying, 'helping babies/families is good because...' creates a weird immoral twist in and of itself. People aren't worth helping 'because' of some good they could do us or someone else - people are worth helping because they are people.
> "What do you make of the claim that the unearned love a baby receives is our bulwark against despair?"
One thought is it's great because the scriptures tell us that we "bring nothing to the table" but our own need in our relationship with God. Nothing but our own sins--a cost to him. A newborn is an approximation of that--a human who is utterly unable to give us anything but need. (and those needs often trouble us greatly.) Yet often we are happy to do something for them. Maybe sort of a symbol.
On the other hand, there's the Benjamin Franklin sane response to someone questioning "of what practical use" a hot-air balloon is: "Of what practical use is a newborn baby?" We look upon them with hope. There's such wonderful hope: We hope this child will grow into something far greater than she is now, a woman the world has not yet known, and do things I cannot. This squalling baby boy, God willing, will be a man someday, perhaps doing great exploits and showering kindness upon many.
I also think, "Wow, babies aren't visible enough to some people!" (I grew up pretty much out of contact with babies, except the time of seeing my 15-months-younger sis being a baby... of which I don't have tons of memories.) So like, an infant was an unknown entity. They're the sort of human that at a certain stage I would dub "Mr. Flippy" because it was hilarious to watch them GAIN THE ABILITY to FLIP over. That level of helplessness at which a newborn begins was kind of unimaginable to me.
I love hearing stories of my friends as children. (This is one of my pet things.) Obviously, I can't go to them and comfort the child-version of them now, but wow, those are so significant. Especially because of the whole "having significantly less power to obtain what they desire" thing. I think it sparks compassion.
It may not be a bulwark against despair for an entire community, but for the individual child, growing up in the knowledge of that love is a very effective guard. If you know you always have a safe place to land, no matter what you do or don't do, if you soar to any heights, you are free to soar in joy rather than desperation to earn some value. You already have the value; everything else is extra: then you are paradoxically more free to attempt things, because you know that no matter what goes wrong, you can't lose that love.
I think every now and then of an essay Haley Stewart wrote, titled "Can We Justify Bringing Children Into This Dark World?" https://www.thepublicdiscourse.com/2019/07/54432/
It (and this conversation prompt) is a good reminder that children do not come with obvious, immediate utility. They cost a lot, require a lot of care, and they force us out of chronos time (and into kairos time, as you've written about). They are good, even for all their dependence, because life is good and worth participating in and passing on.
Cultural and economic issues aside, that's why (on average) Christians have more children. We can make wise choices about family, but in the end we aren't after the most seamless, streamlined, most controlled life there is. We don't despair of life. It's worth inviting children into, because they are signs of hope and the goodness of the life we've been gifted.
this is such a retro-fitting argument. no one remembers being an infant but we are all the product of love and someone wanted us. really? not only is this irrational and pretty much pure nonsense, it's silly. if you want to put across a notion of religious 'love' , then state it as such. but, in this dimension, looking back on a past we cannot possibly remember and adapting our reasoning to make the circumstances of our birth all happy no matter what they might really have been is not productive. it's delusional.
I'm really not a fan of twitter, where nuance goes to die. If what you're saying is that it doesn't make sense to argue for better policies now because they benefit babies and everyone was a baby, I agree it doesn't really make sense. A policy implemented today will benefit future babies, not current adults who were babies a long time ago.
I'm also with you on the point that many babies are *not loved* in real corporeal life, and that fact is actually just cause *for* despair (perhaps I'm reading this into your comment).
But this brings me back to the central thrust of a lot of Leah's work - that societally we have an obligation to care for babies and ensure they and their parents receive adequate support. Not simply because it benefits the people who have babies, but because it benefits our collective future. We are our parents future. Children and babies are ours (whether they are our children and babies or not).
martha, in practical application, i'm completely with you! i'm a strong supporter of policies that benefit children and families because these policies support us all. the local advocacy agency for foster and adoptive care is a beneficiary of both my volunteer hours and my charitable giving. i just don't see the point in placing the fuzzy lens of pseudo-religion on this very important area. as with so many areas of life, i see people seeming to justify why they do the right thing, couching it in religious terms. no. there's a right and a wrong. even a good and a better. we don't need religion to show us that. it doesn't hurt us but it's not necessary to the goal and often can muddy the waters when the message seems to be limited to one religion rather than being universal - as it is in this case. do the right thing - take care of children and families, especially when they are vulnerable. these are members of our society of humans and are deserving.
I've been musing on this - I think something you and I might both be getting at is that saying, 'helping babies/families is good because...' creates a weird immoral twist in and of itself. People aren't worth helping 'because' of some good they could do us or someone else - people are worth helping because they are people.