I think, just like every parent thinks, that my children are exceptional. I admire their quirks and their interests, even at such young ages. I overflow with motherly pride and joy when they choose kindness without any prompting, reminding, or bribery...I mean, incentive. I revel in learning new things along side them, because their interests are so different from mine. They are truly a wonder. And we have worked hard to tell them just how miraculous, how unique, and how perfectly and wonderfully made they were. We remind them that their body is the vessel they've been given for their soul, and that God crafted it out of nothing just for them, simply because He loves them. We're teaching them daily that their body is their own, personal treasure, a temple, and no one should be allowed to touch it without their consent. And we're also teaching them (and ourselves, as parents) that there are a lot of things in this world that they cannot control, but their body - and all it can think, say, and do - are absolutely theirs to harness and be in control of.
This backfired a bit recently.
My son has gained the bad habit of whining, seemingly constantly. It doesn't seem to matter what reprimands we give, what re-directions we offer, what consequences we threaten and even follow through on. He is a beautiful, kind, deep, old, intellectual soul. He is cautious and yet eager to explore. He is scientifically minded, and loves to help me clean and work in the garden. He is an absolute joy. Until he starts whining.
Recently, he was whining about something (I can't remember what now) while we were all driving together as a family in the car. Both myself and my husband, as has become our routine, reminded him that it's not tolerated. That he will have consequences. And that whining doesn't help anything, it doesn't alleviate his complaint, it actually just perpetuates it and makes everyone miserable. To which he responded, "But it is my body and I am in control of it. I can do what I want."
Now came a conversation about how our actions affect other people.
Thankfully, we had a great anecdotal comparison for our young man. There is a teenager at Sunday morning Mass. He is a regular, he looks to be about 18, and comes on his own. Praise be to God! However, nearly every Sunday when we leave the church, this gentleman has already made it to his car, which appears to be a 1980s mini convertible coup of some sort with, what I can only assume, is an intentionally loud exhaust system. I feel I can safely make this assumption because, every Sunday, he rips through the parking lot, turns in front of the church, and peels down the road. Not only is he speeding, but he is also making a ruckus with his seemingly-non-existent muffler.
It is his body. It is his car. He can do what he wants. But should he?
As the great St. Pope John Paul II stated, "freedom consists not in doing what we like, but in having the right to do as we ought." (Source Here) We think, in post-modern Western society, that we are truly free because we can do, say, eat, and wear whatever it is that floats are boat in the passing moment. In reality, what this really leads to is an enslavement to our own pleasures and vices. It is Satan's greatest lie, that we fill find happiness by the pursuit and pleasure of self.
But the problem goes bigger. Because even the most secular, relativistic Atheist might say that there should be limits to this self-gratifying type of freedom. Anything goes if it doesn't hurt someone else. This is what I used to believe, anyway. But this crumbles logically quite quickly, just by asking - what is the definition of harm? Because what I used to consider harmful before I was a parent of small children is quite different from what I consider harmful now. My definition of harm has changed. And if it's changed for me, just as it has for so many who were once teenagers lacking frontal lobe development who have now become parents...then that means harm is subjective, so we cannot deem behavior tolerable based on how it harms others. If my harm is different from your harm, then who is in the right?
I have never been more keenly aware of just how it takes a village to raise a child, and that is only because it seems like the village is out to devour my children. I used to think, hey, it doesn't matter what women wear. If we are truly liberated, then women should be able to wear whatever they want without a patriarchal society dictating how much skin is appropriate in public. Then I had daughters who love to go to the beach. My oldest daughter is not quite four, and already she is asking when she can have a bathing suit that looks like underwear. I do not wear bathing suits like this. No one we know wears bathing suits like this. She only gets this desire from strangers at the beach who are wearing what I would declare as less-than underwear, in public. Is the solution to not go to the beach? That can't be it. But I dread the trips now, and we try to time them for the afternoon and evening hours, when the beach isn't quite so crowded with sun bathers. And we address any issues or inquiries with reminders about how our bodies are precious temples, not to be flaunted, because then others will believe our body is all we have to offer.
This is just one example. You can insert so many others - situations where, before children, I wouldn't have batted an eye. Profanity in public. Graffiti. Public displays of affection. Stickers on the backs of cars. And so. many. advertisements. Commercials with candid talk about bodily functions, commercials openly talking about butts, commercials using way too explicit romantic scenes, commercials using fowl language, commercials showing seemingly R-rated violence for upcoming TV shows. I could go on. And really, not just about commercials.
But back to the race car driving teenager at church. Can he drive like that? Sure. We go to church in a sleepy town. I doubt he'll ever get snagged by the cops. But should he? Not only is he speeding, but he is just so loud. I can only assume that he thinks he is being really cool, and that he is winning us over because we are all staring at him driving his bright red, fast, loud convertible. But really, it's incredibly disruptive. Our church carries some culture of reverence, so people do not talk inside the church after Mass. Conversations are held outside on the front steps or in huddles around the parking lot. So this display of juvenile masculinity actually interrupts these moments of fellowship because one literally cannot hear anything other than his car. And once he is past, there is no going back to the previous conversation without effort to remember where you left off, as well effort to not discuss what an annoyance that just was. Further, the reason folks don't chat in the church after Mass is because it is a sacred space where many people like to stay and pray in silence after having such a beautiful hour of worship. But I can assure you that not even the brick walls of the church can keep out the sounds of this car.
This example has helped with my son. But it has also helped with me, and I pray God grants me the grace to call it to mind when I need a reminder to slow down and put a muffler on. I am prone to anger, to gluttony, to pride and arrogance. I can justify any of these with very quick-witted, even seemingly righteous reasoning. Like the teenager, I think I am being cool and fun, and awesome and suave. But the fact of the matter is that, more often than not, my actions...our actions....our words, our behavior, the things we fail to do....even when they seem like they are not harming anyone, they are, at minimum, impacting them. We do not live in a vacuum. As my husband has been recently studying, pondering, and sharing with me, we do not exist outside of relationship. It is impossible for us to move throughout our day without impacting someone, be it through our actions or our inactions. May God give us all, including my son and myself, the grace to choose always to do as we ought in our villages...and not simply as we like.