Today in Roanoke, having presented the new Bishop of Southwestern Virginia with gifts from Bradford, we said goodbye to a group of teenagers who are by now on a flight to London where they will spend a few days before heading north for some real culture in Bradford and the Yorkshire Dales. I warned them that they might just encounter some celebrity fever in the capital as “something is happening in London today”.

Well, it has happened indeed. The baby is born, the continuation of the monarchy is assured, the media have something to feed on for the next eight decades, and a family is rejoicing.

I bet there is some trepidation, too.

Massive congratulations to William and Kate and welcome to the unique and precious person who is the baby. I hope the entire extended family is rejoicing over the inexpressible hope that any new baby brings into the world: hope that this baby will grow up safe and well; hope that this baby will thrive and bring something wonderful to family and society; hope that this baby will not make the same mistakes made by earlier generations.

And there's the rub. The baby is barely six hours old and yet, reading some of the reportage and response, already he is expected to bear a weight of expectation that is inhuman.

How about a moratorium on reporting, snooping and comment for the next few years? How about giving them the space to become a family in peace? Otherwise, the parents won't be able to turn up exhausted for public duties without the lazy commentariat passing judgement on appearance, demeanour and performance. They won't be able to yawn in public or hide the marital rows that come when two wiped out parents are trying to work out how to handle this new person in their life. Even positive comment imposes expectations and encourages game-playing.

I think this is a wonderful event and really good news. But, they are people, not celebrities or Canon fodder (see what I did there?).

And I am clearly the same sort of unrealistic dreamer as John Lennon who “imagine(d) no possessions” while playing a Bechstein grand piano in a vast house on a multi-million pound estate. Why? Because here I am commenting on the birth of the baby whilst calling on everyone else to desist.

Oh dear…

 

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