Religion creates family solidarity

"The family that prays together stays together." So goes the old adage. Over the years, ‘prays’ has been transformed into ‘plays’ as our society has moved gradually away from religion and toward secularism. Increasingly on our favorite TV shows and in movies, religious people are portrayed as extreme nutballs and organized religions as dens of corruption. Mentioning prayer is okay, but just for dramatic impact. Mentioning God is not okay in the Pledge of Allegiance, but it is okay for syrupy, shallow sermons about faith or believing- God and Santa Claus. 

Standing outside the realms of academia and entertainment, however, you find that the majority of America is still religious, still goes to church on Sunday, and still prays on a regular basis. Moreover, religion has been found to be a major factor in family strength.

A few years back, the National Study of Youth and Religion, based out of University of North Carolina, found that teens that participate in religious activities five to seven days a week were more likely to have good relations with their parents, not to run away from home, and to participate in sit-down meals with the family. They were also more likely not to use tobacco, alcohol, or drugs, get speeding tickets, or fight. They tended to have higher self-esteem and more positive views on life.

Families that attended worship services at least once a week were also more likely to have good, supportive parents. 

So it appears the media has some catching up to do on the subject of families and religion. While you may hear some awful examples of religions’ abuses, take into account the positive effect religion has on millions of families worldwide.



Michelle Obama and How Genealogy Tells Us Who We Really Are

The revelation that First Lady Michelle Obama’s family history extends back to a white Georgian slaveowner and a slave returned the national spotlight to genealogy. Indeed, it casts a spotlight on the fact that underneath every celebrity, politician, and average joe is a rich story, a family history. 
 
So often we like to define ourselves and others by occupation. We introduce ourselves, "I’m a banker" or "I’m a soccer mom." Others prefer to define themselves by ethnicity. "I am Korean." "I am a Hungarian Jew." Still others pick neighborhood or socio-economic status as their identifier. But are any of these what really define us? At best, they represent a very short-term, rootless worldview. At worst, they represent a forgetting of our true roots.
 
Study after study has shown that family history has a stronger bearing on one’s development and personality than occupation, location, economic status, or even ethnicity. Not too long ago, people identified themselves as the son or daughter of their father or of the house of a certain family. They understood the link from them back to their ancestors and the value that created. It was social capital, as long as your family was respectable. In our individualist society, however, all traces of this practice are being wiped away and with it our conscious ties to the past.
 
Michelle Obama was known as the First Lady, a fierce legal practitioner, and a community organizer. Thanks to genealogy she is also now known as the successful daughter of black slaves, a symbol of the slow redemption of African Americans from the blight of slavery. What do you think drives her more or shapes her character? I’m willing to bet it’s the latter.


What about when family history threatens offspring?

A recent story on MSNBC told of Patrick Tracey, whose family has a history of acute schizophrenia. The disease ultimately took his older sisters, his mother, and his grandmother. Unwilling to risk passing the disease onto his offspring, Tracey has decided not to have children of his own. This story raises an important question: in the face of irrefutable evidence that your family carries a deadly or harmful disease from one generation to another, would you forego passing on your genes?

Personally, I see my children as central to my life. It would be hard to imagine life and fulfillment without them. But, loving my children like I do, I don’t know if I would want them to suffer if I could help it.

What would you do? Would you go ahead and have children, hoping that either the ovarian lottery would pass them by or that your family would somehow cope with their disorder? Or would you decide the risk was too great?