What’s Good?
For the second Sunday in a row, my twin
grandchildren—Sophie and Hazel—joined us in church during our visit to
Lancaster, PA. They sat through the service once again with nary a murmur. If
the rest of the congregation were aware they had seven-month-old twins in their
midst, they may well have concluded (with gratitude) that the girls had been
“good” babies during the service.
Yet if either, or especially both, of them had
resorted to the bawling of which they are capable, I doubt that anyone would
have said or even thought, “Bad, bad babies.” For Sophie and Hazel are still at
a “pre-moral” stage in their development, regardless of the doctrine of
original sin that the good Presbyterians around us no doubt believed.
So why do we say the babes were “good,” attributing to
them praise as if they had like George Washington had the moral courage to fessing
up about the cherry tree? Or avoided behaving badly, like another George, the
notorious new Congressman George Santos—someone who seems congenitally
incapable of telling the truth about anything?
Perhaps my son-in-law, Mike, put his finger on it when
he said the “good” we’re describing is that the girls’ conduct was good for
us; we had a positive experience when it could have been embarrassingly and
noisily negative. Perhaps we should say instead something that’s more objective
and devoid of moral connotations: “The girls were quiet.”
Similarly, after the girls finish a bottle or after a
full-bodied ensuing burp, we’ll say things like “Good girl” or “Well done.”
We’d not dream of saying something like, “Bad, bad girl: burp or we’ll send you
to time out.”
But at what point do little people become morally
accountable, when we can accurately refer to their actions as “good”?
Good question.
[300 words]
