The family yesterday and today

Some Notes on the Concept of Dignity ¹

Being a person is not something added on; it is not a quality or characteristic of the human being: it is the very way in which a human being exists, the very essence of their being. Dignity is not tied to moral, physical, or intellectual qualities, but simply to the fact that the person “is”—to the fact that, as an individual of the human species, they occupy an absolutely special place in creation.

For Christians, human dignity has a threefold foundation: in their divine origin, in their status as the image and likeness of God, and in their ultimate purpose in the Creator Himself. Dignity is thus defined, equally for all people, in direct relation to God, independent of any other condition: race, nationality, sex, age, beliefs, or social status. This dignity is more than moral, more than ethical, more than psychological: it is constitutive of the human being, and its nature is ontological. A person cannot bestow it upon themselves, nor can we make it dependent on their moral life; nor can the State—as was the case in Rome—or society bestow it, although it is their responsibility to recognize it and ensure that it is not violated.

In the matter at hand, we have a father, a mother, and children, all possessing the same dignity.

Marriage Yesterday and Today ²

Let us consider how things used to be, say, a century ago. Two young people give their consent, say “I do,” and from that moment on, a web of highly complex social consequences unfolds. They acquire reciprocal obligations and rights regarding their physical intimacy, their material possessions, their estates, and other forms of assets such as mutual care, loyalty, and fidelity; but even more so, the right to bring children into the world—with whom, by the mere fact of their birth, a very special bond is formed that all of society recognizes—children who, in turn, have the right to demand certain things from their parents that no one else can demand of them. This “I do” brings into existence an entity distinct from the couple themselves: the “family.” And it was understood that this “I do” signified an irrevocable, lifelong decision.

Thus, a single word took on a fundamental social, legal, and moral significance, shaped by the cultural context in which it was spoken. And this was manifested in something so simple that it often goes unnoticed: the whole of society—even those who had nothing to do with the couple—accepted the full validity of that enormous commitment, and the couple, who just a moment before saying “I do” had nothing more than an interpersonal relationship, came to constitute an institution considered fundamental to society.

But if the cultural context changes—if, upon hearing that “I do,” the couple and the general public are thinking that this is not a definitive act, that mutual commitment and mutual fidelity are merely a matter of preference, things that may eventually be discarded; that children can change families, etc., etc.— then the “I do”—even if it sounds the same, even if the wedding music is the same, and the ceremony and the wording of the contract remain unchanged—does not mean the same thing as it did yesterday, because society no longer believes in the family it once believed in.

We must therefore ask ourselves why this cultural context has changed, and for us Christians, it is essential to have clarity and to form a judgment, above all, regarding this changing cultural context.

For as long as anyone can remember, the foundation of any society has been the family: the patriarchs may have practiced various forms of polygamy; “because of the hardness of a man’s heart” ³, repudiation could be accepted—but the family as such was the foundation of society, its primary and indestructible element.

The very suggestion that it is lawful for the State to legislate to alter the meaning of the family already implies that the family is not believed to be the fundamental unit of society. If it were, the State could not destroy it through its legislation. The State has no right to alter the fundamental nature of something that predates it. Similarly, the State could not abolish the right to property, the right to life, or the right to personal safety, because all of these predate the State. Nor can it abolish a person’s right to a family.

But what has changed in the social and cultural context? Why do these ideas—which yesterday would have seemed aberrant to us and which, in any case, appear riddled with contradictions—hold such sway today? In the name of what is this veritable elimination of the family justified? Why do we find ourselves compelled to come to the defense of the family? We have heard the arguments many times: the rights of spouses to freedom, to self-determination, to not suffer indefinitely the consequences of a youthful mistake—in short, the right to happiness, to personal fulfillment, and so on. In a word, the institution of marriage is being dissolved in favor of the rights—presumed or real—of the individuals (men and women) who comprise it. What has assumed the role of the supreme social value is the individual. The individual is the yardstick by which all other social realities must be measured (and this is fundamentally true in liberal and democratic societies as well as in modern socialist societies).

The goal, then, is to satisfy the needs of individuals, and fundamentally their need for personal fulfillment and happiness. And in today’s society, this personal fulfillment appears as the foundation of human dignity, as the raison d’être of our existence. Failing to “fulfill” oneself as an individual is a form of slavery, of amputation. The aim is to enshrine the satisfaction of the individual as the central goal of life. This is what we would dare to call “hedonistic individualism.”

Where the fight for divorce occurs, the fight for abortion soon follows, as does the fight for freedom in “sexual preferences” (sodomy or lesbianism), etc., etc.—to stay within the topic that in the United States is euphemistically called “reproductive freedom.” The individual’s right to enjoy life as much as possible, without any restrictions—especially in the sexual sphere—is asserted, sometimes in an exasperated manner, perhaps because that is where the most impetuous source of disordered pleasure lies.

A kind of human dignity is embodied in this liberation. Any man or woman who lacks the freedom to choose at any moment the form of personal fulfillment they desire is a slave, depressed at the very core of their existence. It is an extreme form of individualism—and, because it is an individualism centered on pleasure and satisfaction, it is hedonistic individualism.

A very important consequence of hedonistic individualism is the denial that any human decision can be irrevocable or definitive. For if there is an irrevocable decision on an important matter, that means the person has amputated part of their freedom and abdicated their right to full self-realization. I believe this is the root of the resistance shown by socially influential sectors toward priestly celibacy, perpetual religious vows, and so on. When a man or woman makes a definitive decision such as these, they are renouncing the right to dispose of themselves, and this is something that is almost repugnant to a certain segment of contemporary thought.

The Christian response is simply that man’s supreme aspiration—his fulfillment—is not what is commonly called “personal fulfillment.” Here there is clearly a negative judgment, formulated from the Gospel’s perspective, regarding attitudes deeply rooted in contemporary culture. As Gaudium et Spes states: “Man, the only earthly creature whom God has loved for his own sake, cannot find his fulfillment except in the sincere gift of himself to others” ⁴ The key to human existence lies in self-giving. And, of course, true self-giving is irrevocable. Self-giving is not a loan. And those words of the Council are nothing more than an echo of Christ’s words in the Gospel: “Whoever wants to save his life will lose it.” ⁵

What does Revelation add to the natural family? What Divine Revelation adds to the family is that, through faith, we know the profound meaning of that family—a meaning that human reason can come to discover, but only in a fragile and uncertain way. Revelation “serves” us precisely for this purpose: to affirm us in that which, in its absence, we can only glimpse without full certainty. Through Revelation, we understand that the meaning of the family is that it represents the natural place for human beings to “be one.”

We must therefore delve deeper into the true ideal of the Christian family. Of course, that ideal is the family of Nazareth. In what sense is this a perfect and exemplary family? In the fundamental sense that God came first in it.

Mutual self-giving was not merely looking at one another, but giving oneself to the other so that the other could give themselves fully to God, making themselves available to God: unity, not individualism.

How to cite this article
Angel Rodriguez Guerro PhD. (2026, August 6). The family yesterday and today. Rielo Institute for Integral Development. http://riidblog.org/post/06-08-2026/

See also

• Individualism and Human Rights
• The Weight of Freedom III
• AI, the New Language of Original Sin
• Global Public Health Issues
• The Weight of Freedom: Freedom Emerges from the Inner Life 2