Four Things My Newborn Taught Me About God

by M.P. Antoine

When my partner and I discovered we were having a baby, it didn’t take us long to formulate a battle plan: do a bunch of reading, find the best deals on baby supplies and then, when the time came, endure the newborn phase with gritted teeth until our little one began to emerge from the infamous “fourth trimester” and develop a bit of personhood for himself. I did not pin my hopes on some breathtaking ‘bonding moment’, understanding that such things would come in their own time.

We kept our expectations managed and prayed during the pregnancy simply for a healthy child. Nothing more, nothing less. But the old saying about battle plans is true: they never survive first contact with the opposing force.

I work with children professionally, finding it to be one of the few career pathways that, even when exhausting, I can genuinely derive joy from. But the kids at my workplace are no younger than three, and mostly range from five to ten years old – not exactly miniature adults but old enough to have their own personalities, quirks and interests. You can reason with them. When feeling particularly desperate, you can even bribe them.

You can’t rhetoric your way out of a problem with a newborn. And so, as I waited during the long delivery process on the day my baby was born, I asked God only for the wisdom I would need to be a competent caregiver during this earliest phase of my son’s life. Imagine my surprise when, in addition to answering my prayer in full, God also treated me to theology lessons courtesy of a seven-pound squirmy potato.

Here are those four lessons my newborn taught me about God’s presence and work in the world.

1. All humans carry within them a spark of divinity

It’s easy to forget given our tremendous capacity for evil and harm, but humanity was created in the image of God – and called “very good.” The unparalleled love our Creator holds for us, exemplified in the person of Jesus Christ, is the philosophical underpinning for the commandment to “love the Lord with all your heart and strength, and love your neighbor as yourself.” (Mark 12:31) Daily living in our fallen world obscures this reality, but looking into my son’s eyes for the first time was a potent reminder. I held him in my arms less than a minute after his birth, and the feeling I got when his eyes met mine – vibrant, alert, and most of all alive – was nothing less than an encounter with the divine. Although my partner and I made him using the traditional biological process, there is something in those eyes that did not, indeed could not have come from us alone.

That spark of divinity animating the human person is easiest to see in a baby or a small child but is present in every person, if we’re willing to look. And it’s much harder to act with cruelty or dehumanize someone when you can see that divinity which lives behind their eyes… yes, even your rude neighbor. Even those people.

2. Breath is the Spirit in motion

“The Spirit of God has made me,

the breath of the Almighty gives me life.”

-Job 33:4

Those of us who read our Bibles in English miss the profound nuance of the Hebrew word Ruach, a word translated depending on its context as breath, wind, spirit (of humanity), or Spirit (of God.) As Christians we believe in a Holy Spirit that unites us and runs through us, for “we were all baptized into one body—Jews or Greeks, slaves or free—and all were made to drink of one Spirit” (1 Corinthians 12:13).

This is one of those concepts that’s easy for me to ponder as a cool intellectual proposition but quite difficult to grasp. That changed when I heard my son draw his very first breath: a heavy silence followed by a sharp inward gasp and a loud cry, as if to announce “here I am!”

That moment, hearing the first breath of life where previously there was none, was an encounter with the Holy Spirit. Of course, we have all (hopefully!) felt the Spirit moving among us during worship or prayer. But this experience is a reminder that the Spirit lives elsewhere, too. It is among and between us in every gentle breeze and every living creature’s breath. Knowing this, I’m more open to looking for where the Spirit is at work outside of Sunday mornings.

3. Joy is a renewable resource

My partner and I don’t live anywhere near our blood relatives, on either side of the family. In fact, relations can be rather strained. My son’s birth has been a way to mend bonds between estranged people, to share in the joy that accompanies new life. In doing so I’ve been reminded that, whatever happened in the past to weaken family ties, it feels good to reconnect. Picking up the phone (or Zoom call, as it were) is something that seems like climbing a mountain until you actually do it. Joy begets more joy.

You can take an opportunity in your life to rebuild those run-down bridges even if you don’t have any cute baby pictures to grease the wheels. We live in lonely, anxious times. Reaching out to old friends and loved ones is a simple act that can spread a lot more joy than the effort invested to do it.

4. Not everything must be said to be heard

This one is a hard lesson for me to learn. I’m a words person. I love a good back-and-forth debate and a well-reasoned argument. A part of me believes that every problem in the world, whether interpersonal or social, can be solved if only one can find the right combination of words… But deep down, I know that isn’t true.

You can’t verbally explain to a newborn why kicking me during a diaper change is counterproductive. You can’t engage in a discourse on relaxation techniques while he’s having a meltdown and expect it to work. I’ve had to learn how to rely less on words and more on presence. Instead of telling I can show love, letting my actions speak for me, projecting the energy of a kind, protecting guardian. When he’s upset, I can even lend him some of my peace.

That basic demonstration of parental love tells us something about God too: lending us peace in times of distress, nourishing us not only physically but with spiritual presence as well. Jesus spoke of his desire to gather us together “as a hen gathers her brood under her wings” (Matthew 23:37) – yet we are often too preoccupied in selecting the right words for our prayers, or the right doctrine to support our belief systems, to accept the offer and be gathered under God’s wing. Knowing what my son needs from me is a reminder to look for the same from God, those statements of love that cannot be said but only felt.