Fathering in an Era of Rage
What "Do not exasperate your children" means, and the roadmap to parenting within Ephesians 6:4 (Holy Hump Day! #7)
If the internet has taught us anything, it’s that rage feels good. Screaming your heart out on camera with snot tears running down your face because you didn’t get your way gives you a self-righteous catharsis.
Or at least, it’s the most exercise you’ve had in weeks, and that tuckers you out and makes you ready for a warm cup of milk and a nap.
While it may not get you any closer to a worthy and meaningful life, at least everyone knows that you’re angry. And that matters. Otherwise, why bother recording yourself doing something so foolish?
Did I forget to mention the catch? It only feels good for a moment.
Soon, the internet will rev up the mockery machine and you’ll feel worse than you did before, because everyone sees you acting like a toddler with gentle parents.
You don’t want to raise kids to be that.
Before you wander off to snigger at the latest example of blubbering buffoons railing against reality, take a quick look in the mirror.
When was the last time you got angry and lashed out at your wife or kids?
Everyone gets angry, but if you lose your temper or hold a grudge against your kids because of self-righteous indignation, you’re doing the same thing as the rage videos—just not as publicly. You’re also training your kids to let anger overcome them as well, and you’re building resentment in them.
I’ve been there. I’ve raised my voice when it didn’t make sense, doled out consequences that didn’t fit the crime, misunderstood a situation and reacted before I knew what was happening. But as we grow in wisdom, our ire and discipline should be more controlled, consistent, and measured.
To lead our families toward maturity, discipline must be about more than simply punishing rule breaking.
The Bible has some thoughts on this.
“Fathers, do not exasperate your children; instead, bring them up in the training and instruction of the Lord.” Ephesians 6:4 NIV
To me, “exasperate” never sounded like a word of great anger. It sounded like the disdainful huff of a teenager who doesn’t like a restriction on their freedom. And what father can avoid that? With that idea, it makes very little sense to speak of training or disciplining them in the next thought. Discipline is what often leads to the annoyed gasps of adolescence, right?
But the word, especially the Greek original, is about intentionally provoking someone to anger. There’s a sense in which it’s a very personal irritation, pushing their buttons in a way that provokes wrath and bitterness. Now it’s starting to sound cruel.
Many people know one of those fathers—the father who mocked and ridiculed them, the father who let his stress boil up and set everyone on edge, the father who seemed to rule the household by whims and moods, the father who demanded his way at all costs. Or the worst, the father who raged, even if he never physically harmed the family. Often these traits clump together. That’s the type of father who instills personal antagonism in his children and provokes their anger.
Ambivalence, neglect, and inconsistency can do the same on a smaller scale, making kids resent the man who isn’t doing his job.
The passage is clear: don’t be one of those dads.
How? The rest of the sentence gives us four stable alternatives.
“Bring them up”
This isn’t just about raising them to adulthood. The original word focuses on the nourishing and nurturing aspects, which implies an emotional stance of cherishing. You can easily raise a plant. But it thrives when you care enough to nurture it with everything it needs. Loving your kids is necessary. Taking care to give them good physical, spiritual, and mental sustenance is the start.
“Training and instruction”
The words are too close in modern usage. “Discipline and admonition” in other translations shows more of a difference but doesn’t get anywhere near the meaning of these two supports.
The first word is one still used in a teaching context, paideia. Originally, it was the Greek philosophers’ concept for training the ideal citizen. It encompassed instruction and practice in training the mind, soul, and body, so that a person’s intelligence, morals, and physical skills would benefit them and their community. For them, it was a full course on “How to Be Greek”. It’s interesting that the apostle Paul would include this concept writing to a Christian audience, and we’ll get into what that implies. Paideia is the positive side of instruction, training, and discipline that Paul encourages fathers to take responsibility for—and it encompasses the whole person.
The second word takes the negative side of teaching and training. It focuses on warning and council, including mild rebuke. Unlike our culture that encourages young people to “try everything” just to gain experience, wisdom tells us to learn from the mistakes and cautionary tales of others, and to warn those we love against that foolishness. The word doesn’t negate the need for occasional disciplinary action when it makes sense, but in general, it is verbal.
We have three of our supports: Love, positive training, warnings.
These seem pretty stable. If they were legs, they’d make a stool that could hold you up. Many cultures and philosophies have used them to develop fine people. But the fourth support provides more stability and adds a larger purpose to the other three.
“Of the Lord”
This is a TARDIS phrase; it’s bigger on the inside. The other three items are subordinate to this one. You do all of them in light of this, in the Lord’s ways, and for His glory. That means you’re in the position of a steward.
As a steward, the responsibility is a trust—and a weighty one. The children belong to the One above you, and He allows you to raise them. Think about that the next time you feel like losing your temper. This also means that all the gifts and resources available to carry out the task are from Him, which should reduce the anxiety about this massive endeavor.
As a steward, you are using borrowed authority, so even your discipline is done in the name of His authority, not your own. This helps you to retain self-control and consistency, since you are using standards that come from above you, that are eternal, and that have a historical track record.
As a steward, you are under higher authority, so your life should reflect the training, discipline, and warnings you teach to those under your care. This goes straight after hypocrisy in your efforts.
As a steward, you represent the One above you. Like any other king, He expects you to behave in a manner fitting for his servant, in ways that He would. Your children and others will develop a perspective of your master based on how you follow His example. Let your life be a picture of Him—then all your lessons and your disciplines will point back to Him. This adds inspiration, since you are inspiring your children to live toward something bigger than both of you. You are no longer the fickle tyrant, but a fellow servant a bit higher up the chain of command.
Learn His lessons well, and you will be prepared to lead your family well. The responsibility is huge, for the task is to train them “How to Be People of The Lord.”
It won’t always be pretty.
There will still be mistakes and moments of anger.
There are no guarantees that your kids won’t reject it all when they get older and become sobbing puddles of internet ridicule. But you will know they didn’t learn it from you.
And even if they do stray, there is always a chance of return for prodigals.
Regardless, these are the Father’s instructions for fathers. This is how we pass down what’s good.
In addition to Imago Dad, Brandon Wilborn writes fantasy with spiritual themes. His current project is a series for young readers about a dog with an imagination that highlights the classic virtues of our Judeo-Christian heritage. But he’s already got a couple of fantasy books and stories available at BrandonWilborn.com