Our family is not “of one accord,” to use the King James Bible’s phrase for seeing things eye-to-eye.

The topic is looks; the subject is young men.

We can look at the same guy, but we use different words to describe him. Inevitably, when I say, “scuzzy,” my wife,  Joanna, and our daughters, Lindsay and Molly, respond, “cuuuute!”

They think a guy who looks like he fell headfirst into a jar of Dippity-Do, fell asleep on the mess and then went out in public without so much as touching a brush or comb is hunky. They think a guy who lost his razor on Thursday and came to church on Sunday is cool. They think a guy who wears clothes that appear to have been through a motorcycle wreck is stylish.

I think they’re nuts, near-sighted or both.

They think I’m old-fashioned.

This topic came up the other night when we watched the opening moments of “The Bachelorette” on TV. (For the record: I didn’t last; after a few minutes, I decided I’d rather go into another room and watch the dog’s hair grow. But they got a kick out of the novelty of 25 guys clamoring for the attention of one young woman.)

Anyway, when the bed-head-looking guy showed up, I would’ve sent him back to his limo and narrowed the gal’s list to 24. But the women at our house assured me this fellow is nice-looking and I’m unreasonable.

Maybe that’s because I’m looking at the situation from this woman’s father’s perspective. Can’t really help that, I’m a dad and not a dandy.

If I were the father of Trista (I think that’s her name), I’d set up a little test. I’d tell the men to change out of those studio-bought suits and put on what they’d wear on their 27th date. Everybody with an untucked shirttail gets yanked. All the guys with britches dragging the ground get the boot. Anybody wearing a T-shirt I wouldn’t wear to a Sunday School party gets bounced.

Then I’d ask them what they do for fun. Anyone who gives an answer that sounds like he might one day need emergency dentistry–with the exception of the rodeo cowboy–gets pulled.

Of course, I’d ask them all about their relationship with Jesus Christ, the last time they helped a helpless person and whether they tithe, but those questions probably wouldn’t make national TV.

But I digress. Jo and the girls advise me that, as a middle-aged daddy, I’m way too prone to judge young men by their appearance.

They’re right, you know. Jesus reminded the Pharisees that God evaluates people by the condition of their hearts, not their outward appearance. Those are good words, and I take them seriously. But I still don’t think Jesus would use a hair product called Bed Head.

Marv Knox is editor of the Baptist Standard. Used by permission.

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