It seems like only yesterday. It was 3:52 a.m., hours before sunrise. My wife had been in labor all through the night. We had just become parents for the first time, and like most young couples, we only thought we knew what parenthood would bring. We expected greater responsibility, of course—after all, we now had a little one who depended on us for her survival. But around the seventh consecutive night of very little sleep, the true weight of that responsibility revealed itself. Sooner or later, every new parent has this same moment of realization. These new human beings depend on their parents to feed them, change their diapers, wash their clothes, put them down for naps, wake them from naps, clean their messes, keep them from harm, and perform a host of other duties—many of which are constant, unseen, and unrelenting.
It’s easy to feel that all of this is too much to ask of one person, which is one reason why every child has two parents. Parenthood requires giving—a lot. But more than simply giving, it requires giving of oneself, and doing so for the sake of another.
As St. Thomas Aquinas teaches, love is “to will the good of another.” To will someone’s good means more than merely wanting their good or feeling positive emotions toward them. It involves acting in accordance with their good. Love is an act of the will, not merely an emotion. For parents, this means we are loving our children not only when we cuddle and read stories to them, but also when we give baths, wash laundry, and rock them to sleep at 3 a.m. We are seeking their good and making choices based on what is good for them—not what is convenient for us.
Before becoming a parent, life is mostly ordered toward our own wants and needs. But once we have children, our lives become profoundly oriented toward the wants and needs of someone else. We become others-directed.
A Self-Sacrificial Love
But love must not only be other-directed; it must also be self-sacrificial. It must be love for the sake of the beloved.
In his Nicomachean Ethics, Aristotle describes three forms of friendship—or love.
- A love of utility is based on the benefit I receive (e.g., professional assistance, financial help, or social advantage).
- A love of pleasure is based on the enjoyment I receive (e.g., fun, comfort, emotional gratification).
- A love of virtue is rooted in pursuing your good for your sake, not mine.
What room is there for sacrifice in the first two kinds of love? In both, I will only sacrifice as long as the benefit I receive outweighs the level of sacrifice I must make. As long as the relationship is a net gain, I will give. But only in the third kind of love—love of virtue—am I willing to sacrifice without expecting repayment.
Children begin their lives completely dependent on their parents and are unable to give anything in return. Parents must love without calculating personal cost. They must sacrifice without keeping score. They must feed the child rather than read the book they’re interested in. They must change a diaper and rock a baby instead of getting their own much-needed rest. Parental love must be self-sacrificial.
This is precisely the model God has given. He is our Father, and He showed the ultimate form of sacrificial love by sending His Son to be executed for our sins. He gave of Himself for the good of others—for us. We are His children. We depend on Him, and we cannot repay Him.
The English word love has many meanings, but God has provided the supreme example of its highest form: sacrificial love. This is what Our Lord meant when He said, “Greater love has no one than this, than to lay down one’s life for his friends.” This is exactly what He did for us, and this is exactly the form of love we are called to as parents.
The Pelican and Her Young
Christianity is rich with symbols. Early Christians adopted the fish (ichthys) to signify that as fish are born in the water, so too are we reborn in baptism. The cross represents the sacrifice Our Lord made, undergoing crucifixion for our sake. When Christ is depicted as the Paschal Lamb, we are reminded of the sacrificial nature of His death. These symbols—and many others—have been woven into Christian art, worship, and devotion.
One lesser-known symbol is that of the pelican. According to an ancient legend, in times of famine a mother pelican would pierce her own breast and feed her young with her own flesh. She wounded herself to sustain her children. Early Christians saw in this story a vivid image of Christ’s sacrificial love for His people, and the pelican became a symbol of His redeeming sacrifice.
The pelican and her young became a popular image in sacred art, appearing in stained glass windows, vestments, and altar carvings. In an age when most people could not read, it served as a powerful visual sermon on the sacrificial love of Christ.
Beautiful Books for Pelican Parents
Even though the tale of the mother pelican is just legend, we parents would do well to imitate its lesson. We are called to give of ourselves—for the sake of our children. One profound way we do this is by giving them not only food for their bodies, but nourishment for their minds and souls. We must feed their imaginations with the very best literature. But in the twenty-first century—with over a million books published each year—how do we discern which books truly nourish and which merely entertain? How do we choose books that shape the heart, train the imagination, and form the soul?
This is why our library was created: to help pelican parents provide literary sustenance to their young. So join us in this quest—to give of ourselves for the sake of our children, and to raise them on good and beautiful things.