Do you value spending time with your children? You may think that’s a silly question. “Of course I do,” many parents might retort. “We’re under the same roof for hours every day. I lug them to basketball and ballet. We watch movies and play video games together. We visit the mall, go shopping and eat out together.”

Okay, so many parents spend time in the same vicinity as their children. But how much do you value that time?

A while ago, I took my 6-year-old daughter to see the Broadway musical The Lion King. We hadn’t been on a date in a while, and we needed to reconnect. For her, it was an opportunity to monopolize Dad, which is virtually impossible with a younger brother who can’t stand to see a family conversation or activity he’s not participating in. For me, it was an opportunity to measure the maturation of my oldest child. To peer into her mind and learn about school and Irish dance, her friendships and hobbies.

The theater was packed, mostly with families. Parents and children. Fathers and daughters. Mothers and sons. Grandparents and grandchildren. This should be uplifting, I thought. Parents and children together for three hours—this was “family time” of the grandest sort.

Then I looked closer.

First, at the family of five waiting to enter the theater in front of us. At first glance, they appeared put together and content. The father was clean-cut, his wife was attractive, the two boys (probably 11 to 13 years old) smartly dressed, the teenage daughter pretty. But during the 25-minute wait, the only interaction between family members was the wrestling and bickering between the boys. The parents didn’t exchange a word. Their daughter was silent and disengaged; neither adult attempted to talk to her or even give her a smile. The only interaction between the father and his family occurred when he demanded his sons stop fooling around—and this came only after he got the “would you please stop staring off into space and deal with these kids” glare from his wife.

Is this what “family time” has come to? I wondered. I hugged my daughter, and resolved to not let this happen to us—not tonight, not ever.

At intermission, I noticed a family of five—dad, mom, teenage son, and two young girls—sitting on our left. The first half of the show was awesome. Would there be smiles, a family recap, each child sharing his excitement, asking questions or even begging for candy? Didn’t happen. The lights came on, and so did the cell phone and iPod. The girls left with their mother. Dad chatted on the phone, then played a game on it. The son whipped out his iPod and watched a show. There wasn’t a smidgen of meaningful interaction.

Once upon a time, “family time” meant setting aside selfish pursuits and devoting time and attention to your family members. It meant gathering at the dinner table each night—without television, toys or the newspaper—and swapping stories, probing minds and heeding counsel. It meant going to theater and actually engaging one another. It meant talking, touching, tickling, playing ball, walking along the creek—no earphones or cell phones—teaching children about nature. It meant playing cards and boardgames, telling jokes, reading books and teaching about the Creator.

“Family time” simply meant putting the family before yourself!

Today, “family time” is little more than the gathering of family members in a common geographic location for the individual pursuit of self-interest.

In a column a couple years ago, Stephen Flurry cited studies showing that the amount of time parents spend interacting with their children has decreased to “embarrassingly low levels” in the last half-century. The trend is all the more tragic in light of the fact that the quality of that tiny amount of “family time” has also deteriorated.

In Britain, for example, a survey of 1,000 British families showed that 55 percent consider sitting together watching television an ideal way of catching up. In America, playing the Nintendo Wii is becoming an increasingly popular family activity. These are not necessarily negative activities, and there can be benefits to watching a movie, playing a video game or attending a musical as a family. But this can only happen when parents approach the activity selflessly, fully invested in the idea of engaging and serving their family.

“Don’t just give your family things,” author and family advocate Rebecca Hagelin wrote. “Give yourself” (30 Ways in 30 Days to Save Your Family, emphasis mine throughout). Studies show that to indeed be great advice. One study, published by Family Relations in 2004, found that children who were the most successful in first grade were those whose mothers had spent “a great deal of time in positive interactions with them.” It also found that academic success “correlated with their mothers’ involvement in talking with them, listening to them and answering their questions.”

And what about Dad? Another study, this one published in the Journal of Marriage and the Family,found this:

Preteens whose fathers spent leisure time away from the home (picnics, movies, sports, etc.) with them, shared meals with them, helped with homework or reading, and engaged in other home activities with them earned better grades in school, on average, than peers whose fathers spent less time with them. Similarly, teens whose fathers engaged in activities in the home and outdoors, spent leisure time, and talked with them earned better grades, on average, than teens whose fathers spent less time with them.

Success isn’t achieved by fathers merely spending time with their children. Success correlates with the quality of the time—such as sharing meals, helping with homework and reading, and engaging in other activities—dads give their sons and daughters.

Selfless parenting is a key to raising grounded, successful children!

Driving home from the theater, listening to a 6-year-old’s rendition of the Lion King’s “Hakuna Matata” blaring from the backseat—meditating on what I had just witnessed—I felt corrected. I too, had redefined “family time.” I realized my weekly lawn-mowing sessions with my son gleefully riding shotgun were great, but they were not a substitute for other selfless, engaging activities. The more I pondered, the more I realized how much selfishness outweighed selflessness in my interaction with my family.

As I think on this subject now, gratitude swells within me. For the correction, absolutely. But mostly, for the knowledge by which the correction came, and the man through whom I came to possess this knowledge. You too, can have this knowledge. It comes in a single book, the most important book on marriage and family outside of the Bible itself.

It’s called The Missing Dimension in Sex.