Birth is a Tragedy

When we meet a newborn baby wrapped tightly in a blanket, we naturally get mesmerized by the beauty and perfection of this tiny package. We observe these little wizards closely shut eyes and wonder what exotic worlds it might be adorning its imagination. 

The tiny human appears to know nothing and everything simultaneously, the small facial features already resembling those of its ancestors seem to have in the centuries of wisdom, and it gives the sense of being tragically young and incredibly old at the same time. In just a few months, a set of dispersed atoms came from stars exploding at the beginning of the universe. From a world of slumbering souls, it woketh and was brungst into this world as if by some other worldly power. 

All this mesmerization does not last long as we, the older ones, aka the elders; understand that the young one has entered a world engulfing and ravaging everyone it has encountered. The world in which its wants and needs will not always be fulfilled or entertained, in which it will be told to stop with self-pity and get over it, he will have to compete and fight to prove himself. In this world love and kindness will not always be returned. The world will be ruthless and unkind; the protected calm and peaceful existence experienced in the early days of life will never be felt again. 

The valiant young soldier will have a brave heart that will be ridiculed and neglected, and he will wish to be dead when the going gets more challenging; he will want to scream with joy and agony and be lonely and feel abandoned. He will fear the future, and the past mistakes will haunt him. He will form friendships and relationships that will hurt him and leave him. He will knock doors permanently closed and will miss the ones wide open. He won't be able to speak his mind in front of his own family. He will make mistakes that will never be forgiven. His childhood will leave a lasting imprint on his mind. He will get jobs he hates, get in arguments with partners. 

Parents will always wish to keep him protected. But outside the comfort of their home, the child will face the world alone, and the parents will have little to no control over what fate holds for him. For a few years, they can put dinner on the table, pay the bills, pay for education, clothes, and other necessities. Make their favorite meals and bring their favorite fruits after every grocery store visit. But eventually, the child will be left alone to see and experience the world on his own. 

We can find many classical Christian paintings in which baby Jesus is sitting in the lap of Mary, but the picture gives a sense of sadness. In all these paintings, the expression on Mary's face is mournful and melancholic. As if she knows the baby in her lap will see the world and its inhabitants turn on him and put him through terrible pain and suffering. 

The child's suffering is also his mother's suffering. The paintings do a great job of depicting that. As Mary holds the baby in her arms, she has no illusions of what life holds for him. She understands life is both a treasure to be cherished and an awful tragedy at the same time. 

Not all of us are headed towards a tragic death outside of Jerusalem. Still, as the Christian story shows, we will all suffer in ways that are unjust or out of proportion, leaving any loving parent worried and scared at what they had done to us by giving birth. We have done nothing particularly wrong except for the fact that we were born, and yet that will be enough to bring us sufficiently horrible punishment. 

The ancient Greek historian Herodotus praised the Thracian citizens for their custom of rejoicing in burials and, on the other hand, grieving at childbirth. We could have the bravery to imitate these grim realists in their prophetic rantings if we were more clear-eyed or simply less taken in by the smiles of children.