God Defend My Family

It struck me the other day just how significant a rifle over the fireplace is. The idyllic scene of a country home with a flintlock over the mantle has within it a lot of symbolism. In most old homes, the fireplace was one of the most prominent and permanent fixtures in a home. It was there that the important family heirlooms often resided, the paintings and shadow-art of relatives and ancestors, and then the father’s rifle. It remained easily accessible, ready to be retrieved for the defense of the family against any threat.

Three years ago, for Christmas of 2005, my father bought me an M1 Garand, one of the greatest battle implements of WWII. My family on my father’s side has always had a fascination with the weapons of WWII, and particularly the M1 Garand. From the time he was young, he and his brothers (my uncles) collected the rifles and accoutrements of that era, unfortunately losing most of them in a house break-in shortly before my dad graduated high school. But my father’s fascination with the Garand remained, and he collected books and other smaller artifacts associated with the rifle. Always, though, he kept some kind of firearm handy in our house to protect my family from whatever danger may enter our domain.

I grew up not only noticing this, but being trained in how to use a rifle, and eventually a pistol and shotgun, primarily for hunting and target practice, but always with the idea that it was a dangerous implement, to be used wisely and cautiously. When I was 9, I saved up for and bought my first rifle, and my dad trained me to use it well. Shortly thereafter, my father permitted me to keep the rifle in my own closet, being carefully instructed in safe conduct with the weapon. He was frequently away, being an airline pilot, and I knew that it was my unspoken duty to protect the family when he wasn’t around, despite the fact that I was only 10-12 years old at the time. For this I am eternally grateful to my father – it is a duty far too often neglected today.

This is why the gift from my dad three years ago has come to mean something far more than just a very neat and handy piece of history (though it is that!). My dad passed to me a legacy; he passed to me a sword when he gave me that M1. It is the sword that every husband and father should take up, that of the defense of his family, in all areas: spiritually, emotionally, and physically. He passed to me the knowledge that it is my solemn and sacred duty to fight for my family, to place myself in harms way to protect them when necessary.

Someday, I hope to pass on that legacy to my sons. My own interest has expanded a couple centuries into the past, to the realm of flintlocks, an example of which now resides over my own fireplace in my apartment. But whatever the weapon may be, it is the concept that counts. These rifles may simply be a fascinating piece of history to a collector today, but they are infinitely more – a symbol of my duty – not just a duty to my family, but it is a reminder that the defense and godly leadership of my family is a duty to God.