Columnist Ellen Goodman, who has always seemed to me to be the worst sort of
liberal secularist, recently addressed an issue that rarely comes up in public
discourse.
Some of her friends noted that while they–liberal, enlightened
secularists–either had foregone childbearing or had on average one or two
children, religious people were having much larger families. They were worrying
out loud, in light of polls showing growing prolife sentiment among younger
people, that this phenenomenon was having a cultural effect.
Ms. Goodman hastened to reassure her concerned friends that this was no
threat, in essence suggesting that the world, the flesh, and the devil will lure
away the children of the religious yahoos that her friends saw as such a threat.
Of course she didn’t put it anything like this, my Catholic interpretation of
her words.
While I have no illusions about the resurgent religious movement in
this country, which with few exceptions ignores or disagrees with both Catholic
social doctrine and the (especially Wesleyan) evangelical movement of social
reform of the last two centuries, I think it is true that Ms Goodman’s friends
were on to something. Whatever their shortcomings, the religious people having
large numbers of children (aside from the Mormons) affirm the doctrinal truths
of the Christian Faith. And they affirm the tradition of respect for unborn life
that flows from that Faith. From the personal perspective of one who has
observed a number of large Catholic families over the last twenty five years or
so, I have seen that while the children of these families may experience varying
degrees of adolescent unrest, by early adulthood nearlly all of them end up
embracing their parents’ values.
The ramifications of this are, indeed, revolutionary.
I thought of this last summer when we attended the wedding feast–"reception" seems too tame a word–of our friend Sia Hoyt, daughter of
Caelum et Terra contributor Will Hoyt and his wife Drew.
The Hoyts left Berkeley around ten years ago, transplanting their five
children to a farm in the hills west of Steubenville. Will is a convert to
Catholicism, and Drew a returnee. They both have a countercultural background,
like many CT writers, and when they embraced Catholicism they embraced
the whole of it, social doctrine and all.
The feast was a taste of Catholic culture, and a foretaste of heaven: a
couple of large tents on a hilltop, Celtic music, a local bluegrass band, the
bride’s grandpa crooning a jazz tune, fine food, wine and laughter flowing
freely, a clear blue sky, folk dancing, and a tangible joy shining from the
young couple and reflected in the crowd of people surrounding them.
And the crowd: the friends of the bride and her groom Justin were
mostly the children of converts and returnees, mostly homeschooled, from large
families. Some of them, now wed , carried babies of their own in their arms or
in their bellies. I doubt any of them use contraceptives. Most intend on having
large families of their own.
I realize this experience of joy and beauty represents only a little
corner of the world, and even only a little corner of the Church, but for the
first time in a long time I felt hopeful.
The contraceptive culture, logically, doesn’t have a future. Indeed, it
is the negation of the future, the product of hopelessness. Perhaps, if there is
time, we can simply outnumber them. Maybe the best thing one can do to
contribute to the renewal of the world is to have more babies.
It sort of gives the old hippie adage "make love, not war" a whole new
meaning, doesn’t it? Perhaps the Civilization of Love will be effected, not by
political struggle (an increasingly depressing prospect) but by the momentary
ecstasy and suffering of lovemaking and childbirth, and the longer, more arduous
task of raising children in the Light of Christ.
—Daniel Nichols
I will definatly remember your post when I have to return to the medical practice that assists me in delivering my babies. I get some flack for all the business I give them. Next time, I’ll simply say, “Make love, not war” and give ’em something to chew on.
Wow!
Beautiful. As a lifelong Catholic (never strayed for more than the odd half hour of despair or smug superiority that I’d like to think was inevitable in adolescence,) who is childless, I have long thought this — and it brings me great joy and a kind of relief.
All shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well.
I wonder, is there an organization, not of home schoolers, but of the childless or past the rearing of their own children willing and able to aid home schoolers?
The wife and I are expecting our fifth bundle of joy and we’ve taken our fair share of abuse from the contraceptors, but I believe in keeping it light with wit. My favorite line to use: “We’re official breeders for the right-wing revolution.”
Great post, and I’ve bookmarked your blog after reading about it over at Amy Welborn’s place.
You’ve put a welcome face on what James Taranto of the Wall Street Journal Online likes to call “the Roe Effect.” Ellen Goodman is late to this party.
Thank you for a beautiful story, beautifully told. One of the few rays of light in a world increasingly darkened by the Culture of Death shines in such Catholic families living the faith.
Homeschooling is a crucial–often essential–step in preparing our children for the wolves that prowl the world to devour them, for the ultimate death sought by the Culture of Death is the death of souls.
With the crisis in the Church more deadly than that without, the role of the domestic church in bringing the faith not just to our families but to the world has bever been more critical.
Thanks again. I appreciate this blog and pray for its apostolate.
I absolutely agree with everything said above, I just had to add my own two cents. In addition, I plan to have a huge family of my own someday as my contribution to the renewal of Catholic culture. Thank you for that post.
Ken- Can’t it just be the “Catholic revolution”? The Faith is not “right wing” [or left wing]; it is transcendent and I for one am put off by its politicization.
Just read this, because I tend to not be able to do anything if I don’t do it systematically so I started at the beginning. Except I don’t think this is the first one but I haven’t figured out the site yet. Anyway, I liked this. I have six kids but I’ve never taken any abuse for it.
One thing did make me shudder a little,
“The feast was a taste of Catholic culture, and a foretaste of heaven: a
couple of large tents on a hilltop, Celtic music, a local bluegrass band, the
bride’s grandpa crooning a jazz tune, fine food, wine and laughter flowing
freely, a clear blue sky, folk dancing, and a tangible joy shining from the
young couple and reflected in the crowd of people surrounding them.”
If I had any intention of trying for heaven that would give me pause.
That is because you are ornery. For most people, including, apparently, God, a wedding feast is a perfect foretaste of heaven.
I have since become very disillusioned with that particular corner of American Catholicism, not that I was ever a good fit, but yeah, I stick with that wedding party being a pretty good sample of Joy.
It’s nice to hear that there is at least one other person attempting to read through the entire archive of CeT blog posts (and comment threads) from start to finish.
Incidentally, it appears that the blog of Mr. Sanchez has been shut down prior to my being able to do the same thing over there…