In my early years of motherhood, I was often given books on Christian parenting, and, diligent and determined to do everything in my power to provide the best possible start for my precious little ones, I would read them. On one such occasion, I recall picking up a popular parenting book by a well-known publisher. Within the first page or so, I read something to the effect of “As a Christian parent, the single most important thing you will do in this life is make sure your children get into heaven.” I closed the book, set it down, and shook my head in “Lutheran disapproval.”
A moment later, curiosity prevailed, and I picked it up again. A “heavy skim” of its contents assured me that it delivered on its questionable premise with a long list of strategies, rubrics, timelines, and instructions for coaxing one’s child toward that all-important decision they must make to accept Jesus as their personal Lord and Savior. I removed the book to the recycle bin, unwilling even to donate it, and offered up a prayer of thanks for the gift of the Holy Spirit given to my children in their Baptism.
As Lutherans, we parent from a different perspective than many of our brothers and sisters in Christ in other faith traditions. We would never deny that parents have a sacred responsibility to raise their children in the Christian faith, but we also confess that
I cannot by my own reason or strength believe in Jesus Christ, my Lord, or come to Him. But the Holy Spirit has called me by the Gospel, enlightened me with His gifts, sanctified and kept me in the true faith. (Small Catechism, Creed, Third Article)
The Holy Spirit is the one responsible for working saving faith in the hearts of each believer, and if I cannot even get myself into heaven, how can I possibly hope to get someone else there?
While this distinction may feel pedantic to some, I regularly encounter faithful Christian parents who appear to lack the comfort and assurance of knowing that it is Christ’s work alone that delivers their children from the bondage of sin. They anxiously wonder if their child has a personal, saving relationship with Jesus yet; pray earnestly for their child to make such a decision; or question and second-guess when their children do articulate the Gospel if they “really mean it” or if they are “only repeating what they’ve heard.” Jesus tells His disciples to let the little children come to Him, for “to such belongs the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 19:14). And Paul’s letters assure us that “no one can say ‘Jesus is Lord’ except in the Holy Spirit” (1 Corinthians 12:3). It is a childlike faith in God that saves each of us, regardless of age, and this truth not only transforms the way we see our children but also ought to shape the way we parent.
Seeing our children as fellow brothers and sisters in Christ goes beyond our own feelings of assurance and comfort on their behalf. For Christians who see their children as “unregenerate,” there is a different spirit and emphasis in the way the Law of God is applied and spoken over their children. The Bible teaches that we are conceived in sin, that we are sinful from our mother’s womb, that the wages of sin is death, and that no one is without sin but Christ alone.
In the period of controversy following Luther’s death in the mid-sixteenth century, some within the Lutheran churches (the Philippists) were teaching that a person can and does cooperate with God in salvation. They argued (as would most American Evangelicals) that there is something we contribute to our salvation as Christians, even if it is only our willingness, cooperation, or lack of resistance to the Spirit. A man named Matthias Flacius pushed back against this error, arguing that total depravity was so serious a condition that it is the very essence of humanity to be sinful. He meant to highlight the impossibility of cooperating with the Spirit in salvation, but in doing so, he fell into another error. We cannot say that sin is essential (definitional) to humanity, for Jesus was fully human and without sin, Adam and Eve were fully human before the fall, and we will be fully human and without sin in the life to come. The authors and signers of the Formula of Concord addressed this error, writing, “We distinguish between the nature itself (which even after the fall is and remains God’s creature) and original sin. This distinction is as great as the distinction between God’s work and the devil’s work” (Formula of Concord, Epitome, Article 1, paragraph 2).
What does this controversy have to do with children and parents? It is common in Christian circles to respond to any undesirable behavior in a child by making reference to their sinful nature. Your two-year-old won’t eat what he’s served? He’s a sinner—he’s defying your God-given authority. Your five-year-old has a meltdown in a public place? We’re all full of rebellious, selfish sin, aren’t we? What is the solution for negative behavior in kids? Immediate, unconditional obedience to parents, who must train them to stop sinning with appropriate punishment.
Yes, children are sinners. So are their parents. But seeing our children as fellow Christians shifts the emphasis. We can expect them to grow in righteousness and sanctification, just as we should expect this of ourselves. We hold the Law of God before them not only according to its first use (to curb their bad behavior with threat of consequences or punishment) and its second use (to show them their sinfulness and drive them to repentance) but also according to its third use (as a good and beautiful picture of God’s will for His creation and as a guide for our lives as children of God). We can and should expect them to grow in their ability to see the Law of God through Spirit-given eyes of faith (Psalm 119:15–16). When we are not fearful in our own standing before God or fearful for that of our children, it frees us to respond to their behaviors with creativity and nuance. The goal, after all, is not merely to assist our children in breaking fewer social norms as time goes on, thereby growing into unobjectionable adults, but, following our Lord’s example, we would have them grow “in wisdom and in stature and in favor with God and man” (Luke 2:52).
In writing on the Fourth Commandment, Luther emphasizes that parents stand in the place of God to their children:
To the position of fatherhood and motherhood God has given special distinction above all positions that are beneath it: He does not simply command us to love our parents, but to honor them. … In this way He separates and distinguishes father and mother from all other persons upon earth and places them at His side. (Large Catechism, Part 1, paragraph 105)
In placing fathers and mothers “at His side,” God designs parenthood in such a way that a child’s earliest experiences of being cared for, loved, and instructed are at the hands of two people who love that child in a way that images God’s own love for us as closely as possible.
When a parent extends mercy, they teach their child to expect and look for mercy from their heavenly Father. Practically speaking, this means that parents may choose to err on the side of gentleness in discipline, for we know that “the Law always accuses us. It always shows that God is angry. God is not loved until we receive mercy through faith. Not until then does He become someone we can love” (Apology of the Augsburg Confession, Article 5, paragraphs 7b–8). As parents, we have the privilege of telling our children who they are in Christ—individuals so valuable, so beautifully designed and preciously made, that Jesus wanted to come into this world and deal with the sin that has utterly corrupted everything, once and for all. Jesus didn’t come because we are sinful at our core, although we are fully tainted with sin. He came because we are someone God is not willing to relinquish for eternity.
This would be the true way to bring up children well, as long as they could be trained with kindness and delight. For children who must be forced with rods and blows will not develop into a good generation. At best they will remain godly under such treatment only as long as the rod is upon their backs (see Proverbs 10:13). But teaching the Commandments in a childlike and playful way spreads its roots in the heart so that children fear God more than rods and clubs (Large Catechism, Part 1, paragraphs 75–77).
Quotes from the Lutheran Confessions are from Concordia: The Lutheran Confessions, second edition © 2006 Concordia Publishing House. All rights reserved.
Scripture: ESV®.
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