No parent or caregiver wants to get a call from the school principal’s office. Last year, I got that call. “I have your son here in the office with me,” said a school administrator, adding, “There was bullying on the playground.” She relayed the offenses, which included someone getting their pants pulled down. After giving my child some harsh words over the phone, I ended the call with two thoughts racing through my head: extreme embarrassment (for me) and big consequences (for him).
An hour later I got a call back. Now what? I thought, mortified that apparently my child still hadn’t learned his lesson. “I’m so sorry,” the principal said, sounding crestfallen. “There are two boys in his grade with the same name. I grabbed the wrong one.” (Yes, I apologized to my son when he got home.)
As I write this column, my two older ones have just gotten into trouble with the after-school program coordinator for roughhousing with other kids. These infractions (the real ones and the fake one) have led to rich conversations with my spouse and other parent- friends about behavior and discipline. How do we manage problem behaviors? What form of discipline or consequences make sense? How does all this fit into following Jesus?
We often parent as we were parented, with default values created in childhood. Sometimes these values serve us and our children; sometimes they do not. I’ve thought (and read) a lot about being intentional in the choices we make when we discipline our children. It’s notable that the word discipline comes from the Latin root discere, which means to learn. It is also the root of the word “disciple.” My vocation as a parent feels more focused on teaching than punishing.
Parenting styles and preferences vary. This is not a column about the “right” way to parent, but about making intentional choices so we can live out our faith in the vocation of parenting and caregiving.
Behavior is communication, someone once told me. In my experience, when I’m not doing well (hungry, worried, afraid, tired), I tend not to make the best choices. The same is true for children. On my best parenting days, I try to consider what my child is trying to say with their behavior. Sometimes I just ask them what is wrong. There are times when I am able to give my children the grace I’d like to be given when I’m not showing up as my best self.
But that doesn’t mean they can do whatever they want. In the mid-1900s, clinical psychologist Diana Baumrind identified three main parenting styles: authoritarian, permissive and authoritative. Authoritarian parents are rigid, demand compliance and are less responsive to the child. Permissive parents seldom set rules and are overly responsive to the child. Authoritative parents are in the middle: firm, yet not rigid, responsive, but not indulgent.
I favor the authoritative style, but it’s a constant balancing act. “Sure, we can have an extra treat on Fridays, but no, we’re not eating ice cream every night.” Or: “I know you were upset that we couldn’t go to the movie, but I am not going to let you hit your brother when you are mad.”
Boundaries may sometimes make us mad, but they keep us healthy. Developmentally, children need boundaries to feel safe. They need to know that if they try to hurl themselves off a cliff, someone will have their backs. God knew we needed boundaries too, which is why we have commandments (including Jesus’ new commandment to love one another) in Scripture.
That said, sometimes the hardest part of parenting is my own behavior. I’m not as patient as I would like. I raise my voice or snap back when I wish I wouldn’t. Child psychologist Becky Kennedy (known as Dr. Becky) says not to sweat these mistakes. According to Dr. Becky, what’s most important is what we do after we mess up: repair. She has written extensively on how to apologize to your child and talk through your mistakes, while continuing to set firm boundaries for the child’s behavior. To me, repair feels a bit like resurrection. New life is always possible, which is very good news.
Dr. Becky’s approach is shaped around a phrase that may sound familiar to Lutheran ears: Good inside. It’s the title of her book, as well as a theology (whether she intends so or not). According to Lutheran theology, we are both saint and sinner— full of goodness and mistakes. We have something of God’s Holy Spirit dwelling in us, with us and all around us. Calling upon that goodness, we can forgive ourselves and look for that goodness in others, including our children when they infuriate us. And just in case you think it’s all lambs and rainbows with Dr. Becky, she also has a video clip online titled, “It’s not your job to make your kids happy.” More good news!
Scripture gives us limited insight into parenting. That’s partly because it’s not written as a manual, and partly because childrearing was vastly different in antiquity than it is today. Children (sadly) were not highly valued in the ancient world. Some of the exceptions to this understanding are given to us by Jesus himself. First, Jesus himself welcomes children (Matthew 19:13-15), rebuking his disciples for trying to keep the kids away. He lays hands on them and blesses them. What a shock for those gathered that day to see a rabbi make time for people of such low status!
Second, Jesus shares a parenting story. It’s known as the story of the prodigal son, but often also called the story of “the forgiving father” (Luke 15). Here we see a father exhibit an amazing display of “good inside” when his younger son asks for his share of the inheritance. Asking this is a cultural insult, akin to “I wish you were dead.” The father gives it anyway, and a predictable narrative follows. The son wastes his money and comes crawling home to ask for a job, not expecting a welcome. Then the unpredictable: the forgiving father welcomes him back. He runs to greet the boy and lavishes him with clothes and a feast. The elder son is jealous, but the father embraces him too. We had to welcome the one who was lost and found, the father says.
What does this story say to us as modern-day parents and caregivers? Some of us know the pain of estranged children or children who have slipped into self-destructive behaviors. Are those welcomed home? Are there consequences? These questions can only be answered by those living out these stories in real time. But there is a common thread. God is one who welcomes the lost, which at times includes all of us. We are going to lose our way, at some point, in the journey of life and, if applicable, the journey of parenting and caregiving. In that space, God welcomes us home, assuring us that we, like the children in our lives, are good inside.
Lisa A. Smith, a writer and ELCA pastor, lives in Anchorage, Alaska, with her spouse and three children. Her blog “Bedtime Theology” is at pastorlisawrites.com.
This article appears in the March/April/May 2025 issue of Gather. To read more like it, subscribe to Gather.