The Bride, the Father, and the Devouring Mother

“The president reigns for four years, and journalism governs forever and ever.” — Oscar Wilde

Dang, I’m so ready to smell the fresh air of spring, get outside in my gardens, work up a sweat running by Lake Michigan, and lounge on the beach this summer. As I write this, it’s in the forties—rainy and cold. Last weekend, we sat outside for my firstborn son’s graduation at Hope College. He’s now a mechanical engineer with a Bachelor of Science degree. He graduated with honors and even won a national research award. I consider myself incredibly fortunate to have two deeply mature sons. I have no doubt they will each go on to exceed anything I could’ve imagined, and it feels so good to have been a part of that process.

Last week, a “call to action” plea popped up before a PBS program I was about to watch. Turns out it’s at the center of a new Presidential Executive Order—ENDING TAXPAYER SUBSIDIZATION OF BIASED MEDIA—aimed at cutting off federal funding for NPR and PBS due to accusations of partisan reporting. I can’t deny that bias exists; I’ve witnessed it firsthand. Nor can I argue against the idea that government funding undermines journalistic independence. If media is publicly funded, it should be nonpartisan. Otherwise, we’re venturing into the territory of propaganda—something you’d expect in a communist regime, not a republic.

Let’s not forget: government “funding” means taxpayer money. Not all taxpayers are Democrats. So it should be common sense that anything overtly partisan gets removed from the federal budget. The same should go for anything not serving the wellbeing of the country. Why is this so hard for Democrats to understand? Because they’re operating under a completely different narrative—one shaped and sustained by the media. Cut the funding, and you’re not just trimming dollars—you’re severing the power supply.

Having studied communication and culture, I’m well aware of how narratives shape reality. It used to be the Church, working hand-in-glove with the State, that controlled public consciousness. I’ll never forget visiting Lincoln, England. From the top of the castle, looking down over the town, I saw a symbolic picture: the Church as the Mother, the State as the Father, and the people as their children. But today, that maternal figure has morphed into the Devouring Mother—mass media—propped up by technology and fossil-fueled systems. The Church, once revered as “the Bride of Christ” (Ephesians 5:25–27), has been cast aside, replaced by this deranged and domineering matriarch.

“Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her to make her holy… to present her to himself as a radiant church, without stain or wrinkle or any other blemish.” — Ephesians 5:25–27

What replaced the sanctity of the Bride was a ravenous media beast—broadcasting not holiness, but propaganda. Who stands behind this modern Mother and Father? The church today is a shadow of its former self. The last absolute Christian monarchy—Russia—fell in 1917, marking a seismic shift in spiritual and political power. Curiously, much of Russia’s gold quickly found its way to the United States. (You can read more about that here: Gold, Really?). Since then, the media has served as our “Mother,” while big government postures as the “Father.”

Two media ecosystems have now emerged, reflecting two competing narratives:

Alternative media, favored by Republicans, paints Trump as a bold, anti-establishment reformer defending sovereignty and tradition. He is seen as a disruptor of corrupt systems, and his raw, unapologetic style is praised as authentic and grounded in an “America First” agenda. But ironically, the official White House website feels more like the trailer of a binge-worthy Netflix series than a civic portal.

Mainstream media, on the other hand, drives the Democrat narrative. Here, Trump is cast as a corrupt, divisive threat to democracy. Democrats invoke values like equity and inclusion, though their tactics—censorship, lawfare, and institutional manipulation—betray these ideals. Their contradictions are hard to ignore: advocating for “inclusive” speech while silencing dissent, defending “democracy” while opposing voter ID laws, and prosecuting political opponents during election seasons.

Their foreign policy is no less telling. Democrats frame the Russia-Ukraine war as a noble fight against autocracy. Republicans, by contrast, view endless aid as globalist overreach. Many prefer diplomacy—even territorial concessions—to prolonged conflict and military entanglement.

So what does this all mean at a deeper level?

Carl Jung, a Swiss psychiatrist and psychoanalyst, developed the concept of archetypes as universal, symbolic patterns embedded in the collective unconscious—the shared psychological inheritance of humanity. These archetypes include figures like the Shadow (our hidden darkness), the Trickster (a chaotic, subversive force), the Anima and Animus (the feminine and masculine within), and the Wise Old Man or Mother. Jung believed these motifs recur in myths, dreams, religions, and cultural narratives across time and geography. They shape our inner world and influence how we perceive and respond to reality, often without our awareness. Understanding them helps reveal the deeper psychological and spiritual currents beneath the surface of everyday events. In our current political theatre, these forces don’t just inform individual behavior—they animate entire institutions and ideologies.

Having immersed myself lately in the work of Carl Jung, I can’t help but see this as an archetypal drama playing out in real time. The Shadow, for instance, represents the repressed, unconscious side of the self. Democrats claim to fight for tolerance, yet they demonize opponents and suppress dissenting views—classic projection of the Shadow.

Then there’s the Trickster, the chaotic disruptor. Their push for radical changes—court-packing, censorship, rule-bending—resembles this archetype, cloaked in the language of justice but destabilizing at its core.

Jung’s idea of enantiodromia—where things become their opposite when taken to extremes—is also at play. The pursuit of inclusivity turns into exclusion. The fight for equity becomes favoritism. Idealism flips into its shadow.

In Jungian terms, democracy itself has become the Devouring Mother—nurturing in name, but overbearing in practice. And in response, Trump embodies the Father archetype: authoritative, structured, boundary-setting. His policies aim to restore boundaries and autonomy, countering the media’s maternal excess. But the Father archetype has its own shadow—structure can harden into oppression, and protection can morph into tyranny.

This is the real spiritual and psychological war of our time: the Bride replaced by a Devouring Mother, the Father fighting to reclaim order, and the media acting not as a holy witness, but as a manipulative mistress—seductive, controlling, and never truly nurturing.

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