Cynics Unlimited

One Sunday last June I set out to go to church after a month-long absence. My plan was foiled, however, when my baby daughter demanded her morning feed. I was disappointed, but I joked with my mother that surely God would understand; after all, His only Son was breastfed. Indeed, the image of “Maria lactans” (Latin for “Mary of the milk”) is a common motif in Renaissance art: numerous sculptors, painters and other artists depicted the Virgin Mary nursing the Baby Jesus. Mary’s lactational performance is mentioned in Luke 11:27, in which a woman shouts out to Jesus, “Blessed [are] the breasts at which you nursed.”

References to breastfeeding are sprinkled throughout the Bible. This is hardly surprising, as the ancient Hebrews were a very family-oriented society. For example, the popular expression “out of the mouths of babes” comes from Psalm 8:2’s “Out of the mouth of babes and sucklings [“suckling” meaning a child who sucks at his or her mother’s breast] hast thou ordained strength because of thine enemies, that thou mightest still the enemy and the avenger.” Breastfeeding provided benefits to both women and their babies. At a time when standards of hygiene and medicine were not what they are today, mother’s milk protected infants from potentially fatal infections. Nursing also acted as a natural form of birth control by suppressing menstruation, allowing women to space the births of their children and avoid the stress of constant pregnancy. The contraceptive potential of lactation is illustrated in the following passage: “Now when she [the prophet Hosea’s wife Gomer] had weaned Lo-ru-ha-mah, she conceived, and bore a son” (Hosea 1:8).

One might ask how long children in Biblical times were breastfed. While the Bible contains no specific instructions in this regard, the Muslim holy book the Koran, which was written in the same part of the world as the Bible was, advises mothers to nurse their babies for two years (interestingly, the same timeframe recommended today by the World Health Organization). So this is probably the minimum amount of time Hebrew youngsters remained at the breast. In fact, evidence from the Bible itself suggests at least some women nursed their children beyond two years. For instance, in the Apocryphal book of Maccabees a Jewish mother reminds her son that she has “carried you in my womb for nine months and nursed you for three years.” Similarly, as soon as the prophet Samuel is weaned by his mother Hannah, he is sent to serve with the priest Eli in the temple, which tells us the boy was at least past the pre-verbal toddler stage.
The Bible also speaks of the practice of wet nursing, whereby a woman was paid to breastfeed a baby not born to her. Sometimes rich women would hire wet nurses rather than feed their children themselves. For example, Isaac’s wife Rebecca had a nurse named Deborah who was buried under an oak tree (Genesis 35:8). Jonathan’s son Mephibosheth became lame, according to II Samuel 4:4, after his nurse dropped him while fleeing at the news of Jonathan’s and his father Saul’s deaths. Nonetheless, it appears that most Hebrew women, even wealthy ones like Abraham’s wife Sarah, breastfed their babies themselves.

Two interesting stories involving breastfeeding appear at the beginning of the Old Testament. In Exodus, the infant Moses is found by the Pharaoh’s daughter in an ark of bulrushes. To nurse him she hires a Hebrew woman, who unknown to the Pharaoh’s daughter happens to be the child’s biological mother. The second story is featured in the Book of Ruth. A Jewish woman, Naomi, experiences the loss of her two adult sons, both of whom die childless. One of her daughters-in-law, the Moabite Ruth, remarries a relative of her late husband and has a son named Obed. Because Naomi has left no biological descendants, however, she adopts Obed as her own; the neighbours even declare, “There is a son born to Naomi.” To cement the mother-child bond, Naomi “[takes] the child and [lays] it in her bosom and [becomes] nurse unto it.”

Now one might wonder how Naomi could nurse a baby when she had presumably borne her last child decades earlier. This occurred through a process called relactation, whereby a woman’s breast can be stimulated by a child’s sucking to produce milk again years after giving birth. In some poor countries today grandmothers may nurse a grandchild if the baby’s mother dies. Even in the modern United States , feminist sociologist Pauline Bart – who is Jewish herself – writes of having milk reappear in her breasts after suckling her granddaughter.

Biblical authors used the breast and its product, milk, to symbolize nurturance and abundance. Isaiah is probably the writer who employs these metaphors the most. For instance, in Isaiah 60:16 the Lord promises that the holy city of Jerusalem will “drink the milk of nations and be nursed at royal breasts” as a sign of its glory. All who love the city will “nurse and be satisfied at her comforting breasts [and] drink deeply and delight in her overflowing abundance” (Isaiah 66:11). Isaiah compares the relationship between God and His people to that between a nursing mother and her baby. In his own words, “can a mother forget the baby at her breast and have no compassion on the child she has borne? Though she may forget, I will not forget you!” (Isaiah 49: 15). St. Paul also speaks of breastfeeding metaphorically. He tells the Thessalonians that “we proved to be gentle among you, as a nursing mother tenderly cares for her own children” (1 Thessalonians 2:7). Even secular scientists are recognizing the significance of breastfeeding to the mother-infant relationship. Oxford geneticist Bryan Sykes in his book Adam’s Curse talks about the “unconditional love and security” that nursing represents for children.

After Biblical times the popularity and prevalence of breastfeeding went through ups and downs. In the twentieth century West baby formula was once promoted as better and more “scientific” than breast milk. Westerners eventually rediscovered the benefits of nursing, and breastfeeding rates started rising again in the 1970s. For some women, this rediscovery had a spiritual dimension. Kathleen Mitchell, co-author of the book Cesarean Birth: A Couple’s Guide for Decision and Preparation, writes that though she bottle-fed her first two children, after her third birth she decided to use her “God-given ability to breastfeed my baby.” It’s an ability I’ve discovered on having my own baby and hope to use in the next two years.