Actually, it wasn’t the baby so much, though he was perfectly beautiful and severely ga-ga-inducing. It was the baby’s mom and (I assume) grandmother who caught my attention and held it. Those ladies could not keep away from Baby.
The mother hardly looked up during Mass. She stared down at her baby as he slept, touching his face, adjusting his pacifier. Grandma was just as attentive. She’d touch Baby’s feet through the blanket, reach over and pat his face, smile, stare, smile, stare. There was nothing in the world but that baby. As far as I could tell, the little guy never woke up. He just slept peacefully, oblivious to the hovering love of Mom and Grandma.
I found myself returning repeatedly to the scene across the aisle. I don’t remember the homily, though I’m sure Father gave a good, substantial one. I was busy digging up a Scripture passage from the depths of my memory, something I’d learned in college.
“Can a woman forget her sucking child, that she should have no compassion on the son of her womb? Even these may forget, yet I will not forget you. Behold, I have graven you on the palms of my hands” (Isa. 49:15-16).
I noticed Jody watching the baby-mommy-grandma scene with great interest. I leaned over and whispered in her ear, “God loves us more than that.” She grinned and snuggled against me. I didn’t feel so bad about being distracted.
The powerful love of a mother for her child gives us a compelling picture of God’s supernatural, parental love for each of us. It helps us understand the sacrificial nature of real love, and gives us a tool for passing on the love of God to our own families. If we can teach our kids to believe that God loves them then, catechetically speaking, we’re halfway home.
When I was a kid, there was a local news item which caught everyone’s attention. A father had taken his five children for a day-hike on Mount Rainier. It was July, and the family was caught off-guard by a freak blizzard. The man dug a snow cave for his children, and laid across the opening to keep out the cold. When rescuers found them, two days later, the children were all alive but their brave daddy had died of exposure.
If we mortals, so plagued by selfishness, can love our children this much, how much more does our Heavenly Father love us? Love, in the person of Jesus Christ, laid aside a crown and put on human flesh in order to endure the cross for our salvation. That love is the key to everything I want to teach my kids about this life and the life to come. God’s love is the answer to all of life’s most important questions.
I hope that if I teach my children about God’s love — not the fickle, self-serving, lust-soaked, cheap imitation of love being hawked at every corner, but the Genuine Article — then trust and obedience will make sense. My kids will have their eternal destination in mind at all times, and see each person as cherished by a Father Whose love reaches all. “See that mother and her baby? God loves us more than that.”
Handing on God’s love is the goal of parenting. It’s a tall order. I’m grateful for grace in the effort, and for the occasional distracting infant.
(This article can also be found at envoymagazine.com)
