Theology of a Baby Shower
This past December my wife and I were the recipients of a beautiful baby shower thrown by the ladies in our church. It was overwhelming in many respects.
The sheer volume of people who attended, along with the number of gifts, was breathtaking. It’s one thing to preach and teach about the importance of being a generous giver and gracious recipient of blessings; it’s another to be on the receiving end, surrounded by dozens of smiling faces and delicately wrapped gifts.
Attending our own shower represented a unique moment in our story. The many years of struggle that led to our improbable adoption story was soon to culminate in the arrival of our son. And many of our closest friends had gathered to celebrate with us.
Now our son has arrived, but gifts and meals continue to appear at our door. These gestures make us feel profoundly loved. But I also wonder about the macro-level impact of such forms of generosity.
What if modern societies had this generosity of spirit and encouraging attitude toward expectant parents? More practically, how do social ties and networks foster a healthy appreciation of children and the ability of parents to nurture and care for their offspring? While many of the talking heads on television are reporting on the right to abortion, fertility rates dropping below replacement rate (from 2.1 children per household to 1.64 as of 2020), and parental stressors associated with the pandemic, an honest look at how people best navigate and fulfill parental obligations is often missing.
Home Economics
The word “economy” partly derives from the Greek word oikonomos, usually translated as “household.” Etymology doesn’t always tell us how to translate or understand a modern word, but this link between economics and household is a happy irony. Most financial matters boil down to people making decisions about how to order their households. And children complicate those decisions.
We might divide the experience of parenting into three main phases: planning to have children (insomuch that any of us may or may not be able to do that), pregnancy and preparing for the child’s arrival, and welcoming the child into one’s home and total life situation. Each of these phases comes with its own unique challenges, tensions, and uncertainties.
Children change how we assess risk, security, opportunity, and the value of our time. Let’s just take the varnish off: they cost money! There are obvious costs, like diapers and greater insurance premiums. Then there are less obvious costs, like wear and tear on one’s home. There are other costs, though ones not easily quantifiable. “No, we can’t go to that type of event until Junior is older. It’ll be too difficult to manage him there.” Being a parent means that adults delay, postpone, and sometimes altogether forgo certain choices.
This portrait seems one-dimensional, and that’s intentional. We can better quantify the costs of parenting than the joys of parenting, though the joys outweigh the costs. But recognize, the costs must be paid by someone, at some time.
Social Capital
Christian thinkers have long understood that marriage comes with certain “institutional goods.” [1] Marriage provides a context for the healthy shaping and development of husbands, wives, and children. A biblical approach to marriage restrains behavior (sexual and otherwise) that leads to chaos within a home and within a community. The social science is in, folks: healthy, intact marriages lead to the best emotional, educational, psychological, and overall health outcomes for children. It’s no longer a debate. (I could fill the rest of this essay with hyperlinks to the research, but then you’d forget what it had to do with baby showers!)
As we prepared to welcome our son into the world, our home was buoyed and furnished by the generosity of others. Why? My wife and I have been educated in, lived in, worked in, and participated in the social life of multiple communities, some by choice, and some by circumstances. Accordingly, we have a broad network of peers, colleagues, and friends. Moreover, our birth families are intact, loving, and supportive, though they live nearly 1000 miles away. But we’ve also simultaneously strived to nurture and preserve those relationships, despite the distance.
Yet ultimately the love and care of others is gracious thing; it’s unearned, yet freely given and humbly received.
What I’m describing here is broadly what economists and sociologists often call “social capital.” The idea was probably best popularized by Robert Putnam in Bowling Alone, but the idea has roots centuries earlier.
Simply put, capital isn’t merely a hard financial reality; it’s a relational one. There’s an unquantifiable value to having neighbors who watch over your home while you’re away on vacation (though you could name the expense in kenneling costs saved if they watched your pets, too!). It’s valuable to have relationships with people in health care who can refer you to the best physician just when you’re searching in vain for the right specialist. Having relationships with people in auto repair, education, and finance ushers one into a sphere of individuals who provide many forms of wisdom, support, and security over time.
Let’s be clear: Christians shouldn’t use others. We don’t assess people’s worth based on what they can do for us. At the same time, mutually beneficial goods accrue in our lives as we form broader and deeper relationships and connections. We hear about others’ needs in times of unemployment, long-term illness, or recovery from a surgery, and we feel compelled to do what their employer or the government might not do. This is also true of the happier occasions of life, like having a baby. At least half of these kind gestures is due to the simple fact that we knew about someone’s situation. It started with a relationship.
Some academics might contest my description of social capital here, so I’ll just point you to helpful voices like Glenn Loury, Robert Putnam, or even Edmund Burke, and let you draw your own conclusions.
Who Are Your People?
I would quickly say to the unbeliever who may stumble upon this, “No, please don’t find yourself a church just to help carry the load of life.” What I will say (and often do say) is this: “The church is interested in your needs. In fact, we believe your needs are greater and deeper than you’ve ever imagined. Let us get to know you. Tell us your story. And hear our story as well. You’ll find a group of people willing to come alongside you to help you see that your truest needs, material and immaterial, are met.”
To believers, I say, “Don’t be intimidated.” Why? We often encounter voices who argue for a robust, government answer to every social ill. It seems uncharitable and even selfish to hear us voice our commitment to a generous Savior while also voicing a commitment to a limited, stingy government. While I can’t speak for all conservatives, my own conviction about the need for a limited government, including in the area of social services, stems partly from my belief that social networks closest to people are in the best position to meet their needs. As Jonah Goldberg writes so helpfully,
The closer you are to a problem, the more likely it is you’ll have a greater grasp of what the real solutions are. The further you are from a problem, the more you rely on abstraction and speculation about how to fix it. The idea that a stranger a thousand miles away has a better grasp on the problems faced by your family or your community than you do isn’t necessarily preposterous. It depends on the problem. A doctor on the other side of the country probably knows more about how to treat your diabetes than the plumber next door. But the notion that a far-off bureaucrat has a better grasp of your local school’s problems than local parents and politicians strikes me as unlikely.
Goldberg’s sentiments have far-reaching implications, but let’s stick with babies. The healthier families we have, the better it is for babies. And the more dads and moms with strong relationships with their churches, neighborhoods, workplaces, civic organizations, and local government, the more people they’ll find rallying to their side in times of need with advice, care, and support.
So the next time you attend a baby shower, notice the implied theology of family life and relationships at work. Months after our shower, I’m still overwhelmed. It’s more than the fear that a thank you card has been overlooked, or the effort to ensure each gift is properly utilized for its intended purpose. This feeling isn’t a word found in an economics or sociology textbook: blessed. I feel blessed. I am blessed.
[1] My friend Matthew Bracey has summarized some of this work in a paper at the 2018 Free Will Baptist Theological Symposium, “The Institutional Good of Marriage, the Family, and Society.”