Family Photos
by R.C. Sproul Jr.

The world is awash in competing images of the family. When I say "Father Knows Best," most of us immediately conjure up the image of middle class stability, of a man with his nose buried in the newspaper, and a woman in pearls serving up cookies. When I say "The Simpsons", those pious enough to admit it, know immediately what kind of family I am talking about, a hapless father with his nose buried in the television and a blue haired lady serving up beer to him. Both images, however, are somewhat dated. The modern image of the family is of a group of friends. They care for each other, but their ties do not bind. They sip fancy coffee, crack wise at each other and serve only their own needs.

But most of us know at least to be somewhat on our guard when the blue eyed monster is let loose in our homes. We know that Hollywood is trying to sell us something, and based on their product line, we prefer to choose the laughs, and skip the world view. Of course it seeps in a little bit. Don't think I don't know that when we use sarcasm against the folly of postmodemism that we are feeding the hand that bites us. A little worldliness is a small price to pay for so many laughs.

One of the reasons we know these celluloid family images aren't telling the truth is because they don't match our experience. None of our fathers wore a tie and a cardigan sweater after work. None of our brothers called our fathers "Horner." And even we rednecks know that large, two-bedroom apartments in NYC cost significantly more than one can make drinking coffee all day.

The greater danger is that we allow our own experience to shape our understanding of the family. Our unspoken assumptions more often than not do not come from the television, but from the hearth of our youth. My father tells the story of the kind of tensions this can cause in a marriage. Both my grandfathers were businessmen who traveled from time to time. Soon after my parents were married it came time for my father's first business trip. He politely asked my saintly mother to pack his suitcase, at which point she went into a slow boil. My father, of course, was baffled, both because that is what men always become in the face of an angry woman, and because of his expectations.

The problem isn't limited, however, to dividing up household chores, though that's a big deal. Denise's father is amazingly helpful around the house. Compared to my father I'm Mr. Mom. Compared to her father I'm Archie Bunker. So while I'm looking for Denise to take out a full page ad in USA Today to brag on what a sweetheart I am, she's wondering when I'm going to get busy.

These unspoken, and too often unexamined assumptions can touch every aspect of the home. Some women measure their femininity just as their mothers did, by accumulating as many cute knick knacks for the home as can be crammed into a curio cabinet. Others measure it by how many pennies can be squeezed out of the coupon section of the local paper. Some men measure their masculinity by how many hours a week they can put in in the office, others by how loud they can belch.

These assumptions not only cause conflict among members of the family, they can also cause internal conflict. The truth is that even if we examine the assumptions, even if we recognize that some of them don't belong, it doesn't make them magically disappear. I know the Bible doesn't teach that the measure of a man is found by the size of his ministry. I know that what makes my father a great man is stuff his many fans know nothing about, and sadly care less about. But as I aspire to be a godly man like my father, still lurking in the back of my mind, is this notion that to be a man you must be godly, and be admired and read by boodles of Reformed people.

So here's my solution. When I find myself down because I've failed to exorcise all the patently false unspoken assumptions in my head about what it means to be a man, I just let myself be sad. It's a kind of penance. "If you're fool enough to care about that nonsense," I tell myself, "then you deserve the sadness."

But the better solution is to bury ourselves in the Word of God. The more we listen to God tell us what a family is, the more we will put to death the lies of the devil. It's not magic. It's not instant. That's also a lie from the culture. But it is daily work. The right image is not on old TV, new TV, or even, most probably, not in the home of your youth. The answer is found in the Bible. We need to measure ourselves not against Robert Young, Homer Simpson, or even our fathers, but we need to measure ourselves by our elder Brother. And as we get frustrated by the lingering lies, we need to remember that He is at work in us, that He is sowing the seed of the fruit of His Spirit. We need to remember that one day this will all end and we will not only want to be as He is, but we will be as He is, for we shall see Him as He is. Our true and eternal Father has so promised.