Spoiler alert! You may want to watch Guardians of the Galaxy 2 before reading this post.

The nostalgia was palpable as the movie began — a guy and a girl, laughing, singing, embracing, sharing hopes and dreams of the future. A storybook romance.

Fast forward to the revelation of a painful void created by the absence of a father, the loss of a mother. A son’s uncertain identity, and all the reservations and questions that come with it.

Then, the unimaginable happens — the father appears, and reveals that the son’s life is the product of true love — a beautiful, meaningful gift. Embellished, even, by the depiction of a baby in utero, growing under the loving embrace of a father and a mother.

I knew at that moment that a twist was inevitable. There was no doubt. It was all too “good” to be true.

Enter the plunge into the modern world’s despair.

The beauty and grandeur of the father’s home, his grace and charm, his warmth and his care were revealed as an illusion. What had appeared to be an outward-focused benevolence, a desire for union and communion for the good of the other, were shown to be a selfish, unrestrained passion. The singular devotion for one woman was a sham; she was just one of many partners who had bought his line. His progeny were begotten purely for his own fulfillment — they were of no value in and of themselves. No one was above being discarded once their purpose had been exhausted.

Guardians grabbed our hearts with nostalgia, and crushed them with reality.

The nod to old-fashioned family values, the organic process of creating life, the father-son bond — it seemed so unbelievable because, to our modern world, it is unbelievable. Millions of people today have no idea what a nuclear family is actually like. Marriage ‘till death do us part seems like a pipe dream. Embryos are being pieced together in petri dishes, purportedly sometimes with more than two parents. Wombs are being bought and sold (and soon, perhaps, artificially provided), sperm donors are carefully selected for the perfect genes, and frozen “left-overs” are being crystallized into jewelry and keepsakes — all for a price. Many of the children who are “lucky” enough to be born of the “love” of a man and woman find themselves unwanted, uncared for, and left to their own devices, or tossed about in the wake of divorce or separation. Some even find themselves literally being sold in human trafficking by people they thought would give them the attention or protection they craved.

Guardians gives us a great cross-section of today’s population: The cocky hero with the absentee father who struggles with insecurity under his confidence and pride. The emotionally chilled lead heroine who fought her way to the top and isn’t about to let any man crack her tough exterior. The horrifically abused underdog who’s trapped, understandably, in her need for vengeance. The socially oblivious, honest-to-a-fault strongman who everyone likes to have around because he’s just so quirky. The meek, subservient female character who has only ever been told that her value is what she can do for someone else. The scrappy thief who feels like he’s always been “bad” and isn’t quite sure if he’ll ever be able to make himself “right.” And a genetically modified non-raccoon who is quick to deal out insults as a cover for his vulnerability, his wounds rooted in his creators’ lack of personal care.

Oh, and there’s the adorable Baby Groot. I’ll come back to him in a moment.

Violence, abuse, neglect, impossible standards, betrayal, abandonment, use. These are the realities of the modern world. The Guardians are the heroes du jour — resilient outcasts who will make a way against all odds. And this second installment brought into focus just how enormous the odds are.

It used to be, I believe, that our collective hope in old-fashioned values was kept alive by beacons of light — people who appeared to be living in upright, morally virtuous ways. Couples who seemed to have enviable relationships of 50, 60 years or more. Individuals whose public personas exuded extraordinary generosity and kindness. Who appeared to keep their promises. Leaders who we thought stood on principle and fought for what was right.

Historical fiction and popular entertainment boasted heroes who were unflappable in their fight for justice. Teachers, priests, and coaches pushed us to grow, and encouraged us to become better, stronger — and we perceived them to have precisely the virtues they aimed to cultivate in us.

But, like Ego’s planet, the inspirational beauty of those old tales has been shown to be rotten at its core — if not in truth, then in perception. And today, perception matters more.

In our world, spouses aren’t faithful. Parents don’t stick together. Neighbors don’t watch out for each other. Priests, teachers and coaches can’t be trusted — too many have abused children. Government leaders are corrupt. Heroes are conflicted, and some villains may not be so bad after all. Everyone is broken, and the old values — well, we’re not sure anyone ever really lived them out to begin with. So now we’re kind of making it up as we go along.

On the one hand, that frees us from the harsh judgment of the past — it promotes empathy and understanding. Everyone has a seat at the table. Anyone can “belong.”

On the other, there seems to be a pervasive confusion about what things are “right” and “wrong,” to the point where almost every type of behavior seems justifiable to some degree.

In any case, it is clear that the old order of union and communion doesn’t apply anymore, and must be replaced with something much more inclusive.

In that vein, Guardians 2 argues that “family,” in its traditional sense, is dead.

The message resonates powerfully with the modern person because it speaks to the lack we experience. It even attempts to provide a common-sense substitute — “friends are family,” it reiterates, over and over again. And for many, this rings absolutely true. And necessary for survival.

But you know what’s interesting?

They can’t let go of family altogether.

Enter Groot, dancing and joyfully oblivious to the violence around him. Being sheltered. Yawning and laying his head upon Drax’s shoulder.

The child still exists. And the child is the sign of hope.

Fidelity, true love, acceptance, affirmation, protection when we are vulnerable — we all ache for these. In the one place where these are first possible for us — our biological familial relationships — our hopes are often dashed. We are repeatedly, sometimes cruelly, let down. We are abandoned by those who are supposed to love us most. We learn to earn these things. We put up with all kinds of use and abuse seeking these things.

Sometimes, we even harden our hearts, afraid that on the other side of possibility lurks even more rejection, more use, more hurt.

But, if we are perceptive enough, the innocence and dependence of a child reminds us

-We were and are worthy of love.

-We were and are worthy of care.

-It is an injustice for a child to be abandoned, neglected, abused, bought and sold.

We do want better for future generations.

There’s no doubt that Guardians is speaking to the heart of a world that has lost hope in the traditional idea of “family.” That despair is pervasive, even as we watch the characters struggle toward some semblance of healing.

But even as the film advocates for a re-definition of family, even as the characters come to terms with the fact that their parents, creators and caregivers have failed them in many ways, the presence of a child calls forth the hope that for this one things can be different. For this one I can make a positive difference.

May the presence of children always do the same for us. May we see in it a spark of hope that family is not dead — and strive to do what we can so that tomorrow’s children can know the fathers and mothers that they deserve.