The Complexities of Family
My grandfather was the pastor in Yutan for over twenty years before I was born. Many of his children spent a lot of their formative years living in and around Yutan. As a result, the last name “Grinvalds” still echoes in the memories of the townsfolk. Before the pandemic started, I had been visiting Yutan for church fairly regularly, and I could always count on someone asking me how my grandpa was doing. They’d also tell me how much they liked him or how I reminded them of him. Or I might have people tell me some funny story about one of my aunts or uncles or my grandma. My last name has a story in that place. There are characteristics people expect of me. The Grinvalds family is known for being very smart, though also often irresponsibly reckless. We are known for being willing to engage almost anyone in friendly spirited conversation, but we’re also known for those conversations getting pretty intense, often with one or both parties becoming belligerent. My family has good and bad characteristics that people have come to expect from us.
There have been times when I have desperately wanted to escape these expectations. I want people to know me for who I am without regard to how the people who share my last name behave. I don’t want people who know my uncles to think I am just as competitive as they are because I’m not. I don’t want people who know some of my older cousins to think that I’m as smart as they are because I’m not. I don’t want people who have had a passionate debate with someone in my family to think that I will argue like them because I won’t. And I don’t want my grandfather’s old parishioners to think that I’ll be a pastor like him because, once again, I won’t be.
My grandfather has left behind big shoes to fill, and I don’t want to be expected to fill them. Being part of a family can bring a great deal of joy and sorrow, but it also brings a massive weight. While there are other things that determine to a greater extent what people would expect from us such as our education, work experience, and associations, family is something we can’t choose. Some families are great, some are terrible, but all have their idiosyncrasies, and whatever they are, we’re stuck with them. Or, if we try to break free from our family, as some people do, then we just go without a family, and that carries its own social baggage. Whatever we do in life, family affects it.
But as if the pressure our own family puts on us isn’t enough, there are other families with unique effects on their own members. And together all these things form a society hiding the dissimilarities of thousands upon thousands of different families behind a standard of normal that all families and individuals are expected to meet.
Ephesians 3:14-15 says that every family on earth takes its name from God. That is interesting. Certainly, the author means more than just the literal name. As much as it would be interesting to go back and find in the historical record that God was the inventor of the name Grinvalds, I don’t think that’s the point. For all families to take their names from God is for God to give them their character, their quirks.
This is not to say that all families operate in a holy, godly way. Certainly numerous families are plagued by physical and emotional abuse. Many families suffer from economic hardship which leads to generational trauma. Like all other institutions, families are broken and affected by sin. There is guilt, distrust, resentment, and even outright hatred as internal conflict drives families apart. But what is interesting about families taking their names from God is that God gives each family a different name. We aren’t all the same, not only as individuals but also as families. Beyond families, even communities larger than families have their own unique identities.
While the Grinvalds family will aggressively debate how likely one would be to survive a mountain lion attack, my Mom’s side of the family will debate arguably more contentious topics like politics and religion in a way that could be called docile in comparison. Sure, my mom’s brother might raise his voice to be heard and make some witty rhetorical comments during a discussion on abortion, but he’s still less imposing that one of my dad’s brothers saying why he thinks the science fiction concept of flying cars is overrated. These wide variations in approaches can be difficult to navigate. Going from visiting one side of the family to another feels like being dropped into a difficult country. The culture shifts entirely, different idioms and euphemisms are in play, even facial expressions mean different things. But despite the challenges of working through the differences, I think this is actually a gift from God.
God has intentionally put very different people from very different families together in a patchwork of oddities whose organization only God can see. The result is awkward, fumbly, difficult moments as social norms are transgressed by family norms. Through these moments where the lines of normalcy are blurred, bordered, and crossed, we learn what lies beyond the façade of the ordinary. We come to realize that humans and the families they come from are deep and complicated, and can’t easily be boxed up into neat little packages. While there may be houses that are truly clean and well organized, there is no household without baggage, clutter, and a few skeletons in the closet.
All families receive their names from God, and so we can see God reflected in all families. God can be as argumentative as the Grinvalds family and as witty as the Havraneks. God is bold and assertive and quiet and subtle. God appears to be intimately loving at times and distant at others. A source of blissful comfort and a source of fearful trembling. Through encounters with the challenges and joys within our own families as well as the differences between them we can develop a deeper understanding of ourselves, each other, our world, and God whose artistry graced us with all this wonderful variety.
