Raising Kids With Faith in a World That Pushes Back

My ten-year-old came home from school and announced that his friend said Christians are dumb. I wanted to fix it immediately with a comprehensive defense of Christian intellectual history. Then I realized that was completely the wrong instinct.

His need in that moment wasn't a lecture on Aquinas. His need was to be heard and then slowly equipped.

I said: 'That must have felt weird.' He said: 'Yeah. I didn't know what to say.' I said: 'That's okay. You don't have to have an answer for everything.' That surprised him. He'd assumed I would give him a script.

Raising children with faith in a culture that is increasingly skeptical of it requires a different posture than the generation before us used. Our parents could largely assume cultural Christianity as a backdrop. We cannot. Faith now has to be explained and defended — not in an anxious, embattled way, but in a confident, curious way.

Deuteronomy 6:7 talks about teaching children when you sit at home, walk along the road, lie down, and get up. The method is immersion in ordinary moments, not periodic intensive training sessions. The faith transmission happens at dinner tables and car rides and bedtimes, not primarily in Sunday school classrooms.

We've made a habit of talking about what we believe and why, in small doses, in response to actual moments. Not 'let me explain Christian theology to you.' More like: 'That's a great question. What do you think? Here's what I think, and here's why.'

I want my children to own their faith, not inherit it passively. Inherited faith often evaporates in the first strong wind of college or hardship. Owned faith — faith that has been questioned and examined and chosen — is sturdier.

That means creating space for their doubts. When my daughter said she wasn't sure God was real, I didn't panic. I said: 'Tell me more about that. What makes you wonder?' She explained. We talked. I didn't resolve it for her in twenty minutes, because it doesn't resolve in twenty minutes. But she learned that doubt is not exile from our family's faith community.

We also try to show them faith that costs something. We give sacrificially and we let them see it. We serve in uncomfortable places. We forgive people who hurt us and we tell them what that felt like and why we chose it. Abstract faith doesn't stick in children. Embodied faith does.

The friend who called Christians dumb — my son is still friends with him. They've had more conversations about it. My son is learning to hold his faith with confidence and without defensiveness. That is the goal. Not a child who can win arguments. A child who can live graciously in a world that disagrees with him.