My love/hate relationship with the Duggars

The Duggars creep me out.

Granted, as a Catholic I feel I’m supposed to admire their faith in family and God. But well before the scandal involving Josh Duggar, I found the J-loving, Baptist-believing family to be more cult than cute.

I first heard of patriarch Jim Bob Duggar and his clan through an email from my sister, who lives in Birmingham, Ala. "THE DUGGARS ARE HERE!" she exclaimed with a blurred photo attached of my niece standing beside a couple of teenage girls.

Who?

Somehow I'd missed this point of Christian pop culture. But months later I noticed my oldest daughter watching "17 (or was it 18 by then ... or 19?) Kids and Counting." I tuned in for a bit, but the show seemed trite, the storylines too simple, intentionally ignorant of modern life. The world fashioned by Jim Bob for his family seemed like a bubble ready to burst at the first prick of reality.

And yet …

For much of my adult life I’ve enjoyed the freedom that comes when you break with your dad. The reasons no longer matter, but the fact is I’ve never felt like I had to live up to his expectation. And a father’s expectation is a weighty thing. From college to spouse to career (which I previously shared on Catholic365.com about our RV trip this summer to Canada to follow the Women’s World Cup) I’ve felt free to do what I wanted to do.

But if the break led to lack of expectations, it also led to lack of example. The freedom to do what I wanted to do also meant the freedom to be what I wanted to be, which is an even weightier thing. And knowing what not to do, by example, doesn’t necessarily lead you to knowing what to do. I won't cheat on my wife and I won't leave my family are fine things. But addition by subtraction is hardly an ideal recipe for a faith-filled life.

So for much of my life as a father of three girls I’ve found myself studying others for examples. My friend, Tom A., and the way he leaps headfirst into the play world of his kids. Or David D.'s stoic self-assurance in handling everything from his daughters to power tools. Or the calm that exudes from Casey U. while coaching a soccer team.

Despite my Duggar doubts, deep down there’s part of me that envies the ease with which Jim Bob rules the roost. How comfortable he seems being The Man, whether it's leading in a family devotional or granting his blessing for a daughter's marriage. I’d feel like a fake if I tried to pull off Jim Bob’s shtick, but that’s more about me than him.

So while in some circles it’s trendy to dump the Duggars, I seek to take along some of their spirit -- their example -- for my own family.

And I strive to remember that I’m the one setting the example now, which is the weightiest thing of all.