I’ve been feeling pretty badly for Kate Wicker who is taking lots of heat for having the nerve to feed her baby the way God intended.
I’m also angry that that statement would be viewed as controversial. I do not care what your personal choice is, nor do I mean to disparage those who could not breastfeed. But having the technology to safely raise healthy babies (intelligence and creativity being wonderful gifts from God) does not negate the fact that we are mammals and mammals feed their young with mother’s milk. I have had my own difficulties in breastfeeding (you can search my blog for my many posts on this topic), and I am grateful for bottles, formula and safe drinking water that got me and my daughters through several rough months.
You can read all about Kate’s issues on her blog. It started here (long post), continued here with a link to her column at Inside Catholic (this really got the fire going), and has more here and here.
If you have time, I also recommend this article which talks about the Vatican calling for more images of the Blessed Virgin breastfeeding the baby Jesus. Kate linked to it as well.
What’s the hullabaloo? Kate confessed that she nurses her babies at Mass.
And now she’s getting hate mail. Apparently, she is a stumbling block of sin for those attending Mass with her. I wrote about stumbling blocks of sin one other time. I think I need to expand on that topic.
If you read no other works by G. K. Chesterton, I suggest at least that you read his Father Brown mysteries. Father Brown is a Catholic Sherlock Holmes, solving crimes with reason, humor and, above all, with charity. Packed in each short story are lessons in Church teaching as well as the practical application of the virtues.
In Hammer of God, which I quote in the header of my blog, Father Brown is investigating the death of an evil man, crushed with incredible force by a blacksmith’s anvil.
“Look at that blacksmith, for instance,” went on Father Brown calmly; “a good man, but not a Christian–hard, imperious, unforgiving. Well, his Scotch religion was made up by men who prayed on hills and high crags, and learnt to look down on the world more than to look up at heaven. Humility is the mother of giants. One sees great things from the valley; only small things from the peak.”
But it isn’t the blacksmith who committed murder, it was the dead man’s brother, a pastor, who loathed his brother’s arrogant sins.
After a moment he resumed, looking tranquilly out over the plain with his pale grey eyes. “I knew a man,” he said, “who began by worshipping with others before the altar, but who grew fond of high and lonely places to pray from, corners or niches in the belfry or the spire. And once in one of those dizzy places, where the whole world seemed to turn under him like a wheel, his brain turned also, and he fancied he was God. So that, though he was a good man, he committed a great crime.”
Wilfred’s face was turned away, but his bony hands turned blue and white as they tightened on the parapet of stone.
“He thought it was given to him to judge the world and strike down the sinner. He would never have had such a thought if he had been kneeling with other men upon a floor. But he saw all men walking about like insects. He saw one especially strutting just below him, insolent and evident by a bright green hat–a poisonous insect.”
Rooks cawed round the corners of the belfry; but there was no other sound till Father Brown went on.
“This also tempted him, that he had in his hand one of the most awful engines of nature; I mean gravitation, that mad and quickening rush by which all earth’s creatures fly back to her heart when released. See, the inspector is strutting just below us in the smithy. If I were to toss a pebble over this parapet it would be something like a bullet by the time it struck him. If I were to drop a hammer–even a small hammer–“
Wilfred Bohun threw one leg over the parapet, and Father Brown had him in a minute by the collar.
“Not by that door,” he said quite gently; “that door leads to hell.”
Bohun staggered back against the wall, and stared at him with frightful eyes.
“How do you know all this?” he cried. “Are you a devil?”
“I am a man,” answered Father Brown gravely; “and therefore have all devils in my heart. Listen to me,” he said after a short pause. “I know what you did–at least, I can guess the great part of it. When you left your brother you were racked with no
unrighteous rage, to the extent even that you snatched up a small hammer, half inclined to kill him with his foulness on his mouth. Recoiling, you thrust it under your buttoned coat instead, and rushed into the church. You pray wildly in many places, under the angel window, upon the platform above, and a higher platform still, from which you could see the colonel’s Eastern hat like the back of a green beetle crawling about. Then something snapped in your soul, and you let God’s thunderbolt fall.”
In Catholic catechism, we learn the Spiritual Works of Mercy:
- instruct the ignorant
- counsel the doubtful
- admonish sinners
- bear wrongs patiently
- forgive offenses willingly
- comfort the afflicted
- pray for the living and the dead
Too often, it seems that good, holy men and women are willing to stand up and do the first three, but are less noticeable in their practice of the latter four. It seems that those most upset at the concept of women nursing during Mass took personal offense that a woman might arouse lustful thoughts by her actions. Sinner! they admonished. Did they stop to pray first, both for Kate and for themselves that their words would be of the Holy Spirit? Did they patiently accept that Kate was wrong and hope to soften her heart to the Truth, or did they blaze on ahead in full confidence of their position and with no regard for Kate’s feelings and those of other mothers?
Good evangelization meets someone where she is and shows her the direction to go. This can never be accomplished in the comments section of an article or blog post. This requires dialogue. Kate, don’t you think it would be better to go to the restroom? Aren’t you concerned about someone seeing your breast? Aren’t you distracted from the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass? What about those around you?
Interestingly enough, I didn’t notice any anecdotal arguments. Nobody said they saw a woman nursing her child and was distracted. Nobody said their teen aged son was gawking at a woman breastfeeding. I wonder if any of these complainers have ever actually seen a woman nurse her child discreetly. My guess is that they have, they just don’t know it.
Personally, the few times I am able to attend Mass without the distraction of my own little children, I hardly notice the antics of others. My focus is on the ambo or the altar, or my head is bowed in reverence. I am not looking around, at least I shouldn’t be. If I am, it is my problem, and it is up to me to refocus. Yes, the screaming child is difficult to ignore. Yes, the toy banging on the pew is irritating. So, too, are the women whispering through the consecration as they make plans for after Mass. So, too, is the man with the hacking cough. So, too, is the altar serving snoozing through the homily. Deal with it. You can let the distractions keep you from worshipping God by festering anger in your heart toward those around you, or you can thank God for the opportunity to offer an even greater sacrifice than simply your attendance at Mass.
As for me, I did not nurse my first child at Mass. I spent the majority of Mass in the bathroom where there was no chair. I balanced against the wall, holding the baby in my fatigued arms.
I did not nurse my second child at Mass. I went to the bathroom, and my older son threw a fit because mommy was gone. On the frequent weekends when my husband was off serving the country, I tearfully did not attend Mass at all, because I would have to wrangle a screaming infant and a toddler by myself.
I nursed my third child in the pew, and everybody was happy.
To not nurse during Mass means that I miss Mass. And I would have missed most Masses for the last ten years. That just doesn’t seem right. In fact, I have been commanded by God and the Church to attend Mass with no excuse for nursing a baby that I see mentioned. Does not that command trump my obligation to avoid causing others the near occasion of sin?
There must be something about the month of July that gets people all in a dander about breasts. Perhaps they recoil from too much skin at the pool, and they take it out on nursing mothers. Last year, there was furor over a magazine cover. I wrote about it here (pretty good stuff, if I do say so myself). I’m tired of the Puritan mindset which seeks not only to label every innocent act as sinful, but which also places the blame of personal sin on the behavior of others. Although I need to be discreet in nursing, I should not have to shut myself off from society to take care of my child. The casual observer has an obligation to put my child’s legitimate need for food above his personal standard of modesty. Look away, say a prayer, and get a grip.
And how does one admonish sinners without becoming a stumbling block of sin oneself? That is the power of the virtue of humility. Once we can stop looking down from on high at the annoying bugs committing sins, we can direct our friends’ attention to the glory up above.
Reit This Way 
You are such a good writer! I would have thought that nursing would be fine and acceptable.You are right, attendance is the key, and all of the other people who chat through Mass and do other distracting things are more annoying than some baby nursing.I’ve been to protestant churches with nursing rooms, and some mega churches have live TV feeds in the nursing rooms as well as the bathrooms! Imagine watching/listening to a sermon on the potty! Yikes!Now I’m off to buy some Chesterton books.. thanks for the tip!
Amen!!!
Weeell…this won’t make me popular, I’m sure, but I’ll say it anyway: I was once distracted by a woman breastfeeding at Mass. It was within the last six months.Now, to be perfectly fair: I didn’t say a word to her, nor did I begrudge her feeding her baby at Mass. I did, however, wish she had either sat in a pew further back (she was a little back of the middle, maybe three quarters of the way back if memory serves) or brought some sort of a cloth to partly cover up with, as she was very generously endowed and I could see almost her entire breast (nipple excluded, of course, it having a baby latched onto it).And also in fairness, I might have been more charitably minded toward her if she had made a visible effort to chastise her three-or-so-year-old, who was climbing around, walking up and down the pew, and generally being distracting through the entire Mass. The man with her, whom I took to be her father, did make some efforts to curb the little boy; but he was elderly and seemed to be having some difficulty with the standing and kneeling, so his efforts were understandably limited.I do appreciate your points, particularly with respect to the difficulties of managing multiple children at Mass, and that you yourself would miss most of Mass if you didn’t breastfeed there. And I do make a strong, often conscious effort to block out the various distractions that come up at Mass. The family I mentioned being directly in front of me and the Canuck, however, made it a particularly difficult challenge.Other than that, I cannot think of a time when I’ve seen a mother breastfeeding at Mass. And it may be that, as you suggest, the mothers I do see at Mass are breastfeeding and are simply more discreet than this woman was. My RCIA sponsor would frequently breastfeed her baby during classes, but she sat off to the side and was generally pretty discreet.Thanks for the post; it’s a good reminder to me to pray for an increase in charity.
<>I’m tired of the Puritan mindset which seeks not only to label every innocent act as sinful, but which also places the blame of personal sin on the behavior of others.<>This is key here, I think. Blaming others for our own sins. It’s so much easier to blame you for tempting me than to make efforts to overcome my own weaknesses.
If I wasn’t typing a comment, I’d be clapping right now. Bravo! (okay, I paused and clapped 🙂 Thank you so much for this post. When I first read the article Kate wrote, I was teary-eyed because it was so beautiful. Then I hit the comments section and was flabbergasted. It’s a pity that nursing is looked upon in such a way. It really does break my heart, because it is one of the most beautiful things in the world. A mother nursing her child. And ditto what Jennie said. 🙂
Kasia,you are right to complain about nudity at Mass. I assure you, breastfeeding does not have to expose the breast no matter how well endowed you are. There are some styles that are immodest, just as there are plenty of immodest tops for women in general, and that woman should have tried harder to be considerate of others. I have been in the uncomfortable position of needing to nurse the baby at Mass but having forgotten a blanket or being concerned that my top did not provide enough coverage and I have taken steps then to remove myself, sit near the back or in a corner or at the very least use my hand to shield the breast.There will always be people who do these things, but that doesn’t change the general idea that breastfeeding at Mass is not inherently sinful – as many of the commentors felt.
This is so interesting. When I see a mother nursing- I am thinking “Wow, she has to nurse here.” I am thinking that SHE might be uncomfortable- NOT ME. She is feeding a baby.She is feeding a baby.She is feeding a baby.
Michelle and everyone else, thank you for your support. I’m afraid some of the IC readers never made it past the photo (which I had nothing to do with) or my intro (which was meant to be conversational/humorous).I used to feed my first in the bathroom at Mass. Like Michelle, I used to occasionally miss Mass as well because it was just too stressful to try and get through the celebration (often alone because my husband was a medical student back then and now is a resident and works a lot of weekends). I prayerfully decided that Jesus wants me at Mass and if that means I have to discreetly nurse my baby(which I do usually do in a back pew), then I should feel no shame.I’ve mentioned this before on other posts today, but another point I found interesting is that some of the people commenting were basically suggesting that most (if not all) children were horrible distractions and should not be present at Mass. I am not condoning blatant misbehavior in church or Cheerio-crushing on the pews. I feel I am extremely sensitive to my kids disturbing people (there’s some irony in that, too, because I actually nurse BEFORE my baby even starts to cry so as to not distract others!); however, I am a STRONG believer in having kids be present at Mass – even the fidgety, little ones. I wonder if those people who complained about kids being at Mass have stopped to consider this: How are we to build the Church if we don’t make her very future feel welcome? Are we a pro-life religion or not? If we are, then we sure as heck better welcome families with children into our churches.I’ve exhausted this topic. I’m sorry for the rant, especially to those who’ve got my back.Again, this was a lovely post (and it meant a great deal to me).God bless.
Well put.The puritanical mindset you speak of is no different than the Islamic mentality that a woman must cover herself in a bolt of cloth so as to avoid men having lustful thoughts. The fact is that it must be two fold. One is modesty on the part of the woman. The other is purity of mind for the man. Too often this is perverted to be the sole responsibility of the woman to preserve the sanctity of men’s minds.
Such a wonderful post, Michelle!
Good point Bill. I’ve always thought that the whole “cover from head to toe” thing was a bad idea because men KNOW what’s under there and if it’s totally hidden (or if they DON’T know), it might just make them crazy, wondering “what’s under there???”. When a mom is nursing, there’s no wondering…I should think that a man would just glimpse what’s going on and then he’d just quickly look away and think “uh-huh, yup, I know what that’s all about”. It would be de-mystified and PRACTICAL in his mind from then on. I don’t know, those were just some random thoughts. You have really nailed this subject, Michelle! Good one!
I enjoy “peeking” into your blog almost daily. This post struck a nerve! THANK YOU for so eloquently putting into words what I feel!!Thank you for being SO forthcoming. You’ve gotten a standing ovation from all nursing mothers, as far as I’m concerned.I have two children (hoping for more!) and I nursed them both for over a year. With my first I was more inexperienced with the whole nursing discreetly thing and it took me a few months before I felt comfortable nursing her in public. By the time I had my son, I felt like an expert! So much so that I would giggle when people (especially men) would come up to me to greet me (while I was nursing) and later see their reaction when they realized I had been nursing the whole time. Sure they felt a bit awkward but really it wasn’t because they SAW anything, it was just at the thought of what I was doing. Then they’d get the whole breasfeeding advocacy speech from none other than MY husband.
I nursed all my kids at Mass too…I don’t see what the big deal is. I’m so sorry she’s getting heat for this! Whenever, someone complains about the children…I like to say, “it’s a culture of life we’re promoting right?”
AK – EXACTLY. Cradle to grave. Being “open to life” isn’t just for the fertile, married folk. We ALL have to be open to life…and that means accepting all the children God gives you…even the ones you (thankfully) only “get” for an hour at Mass once a week.
Great post, Michelle. It’s interesting that not many people will complain when they see and woman walking down the street half naked, but the woman nursing her baby is contraversy. We are so used to seeing scantily clad people on TV (and many times even worse stuff, have you seen the new shows coming out? YUCK!) that it doesn’t disturb anyone anymore. Nursing an infant is not a sexual act. Not even close. If someone can get aroused by maybe catching a glimpse of a mother nursing her baby, I’d say that’s the sin of the looker, not the mother. Most women (at least the ones who go to Mass) generally try to be modest while nursing anyway. I had a friend who would nurse her son while dh and I were over. She was so discreet about it that although we knew her baby was eating, it wasn’t a big deal. I’ve always thought that seeing a nursing mother was sweet.It all goes back to women bashing other women, instead of supporting them.Sorry for rambling.
You know…I was in the presence of a nursing woman last night, and had nursing not been mentioned, I would not even have KNOWN that’s what she was doing. She had a blanket over her baby, and in fact, later had her baby in a wrap and I believe that she nursed right there at the table. I did not notice, and I don’t know for certain if she did or how many times. And it was none of my business. Nor was it a distraction. People need to get over themselves. The ARE real distractions at Mass, such as girls who wear skirts that reveal the color of their thongs. And not because the skirt is see-through. THAT’S a problem. Nursing mothers tend to be a LOT more discreet. Just an observation.
I’ve been following this story first through Kate’s article and then through Steve’s response. This is a wonderful and beautifully written response! Thank you! Blessings,From another nursing mom