How to Sabbath with Kids

Once upon a time, boy meets girl. Girl meets boy. They fall in love. Get married. Life is good. Some time goes by. They have a little boy. They have a little girl.

And everything changes. I mean, everything.

Both my wife and I are introverts. Before we had kids, life had a particular pace and rhythm to it. There was a groove. Then we had two kids. And we’re still daily trying to figure it out. They’re now 3 and 4, and there’s still no groove. I’m learning that parenting is daily improvisation. Really, really exhausting improvisation many days.

So where does Sabbath fit into all this? What’s a day of “rest” supposed to look like with two toddlers bouncing off the walls (often into each other) from sun up to sun down? Where is the peace?

In conversations with some friends and with some of you readers, I might not be the only one in this predicament. I mean, some serene vision of Sabbath, naps in a hammock, warm beverage with a book, a day working in the garden, that all sounds like something off a brochure to the planet Saturn when you have little ones, right?

Okay, so let’s start with spreading out a framework for what Scripture says about Sabbath. Then I want to outline some preconceived notions about Sabbath that have a way of tempting us off the path of what God has in mind for us. And then I want to offer some ways forward.

I’m no expert here. I’m trying to figure this out for myself. In fact, writing this out is therapeutic and helps me name some of the ways I drop the ball both as a dad and as a human being made in God’s image. So here we go.

What is God’s intent for Sabbath?

Christians mark time differently. We know this with holidays like Christmas and Easter, even seasons like Advent and Lent, among others. But because of Sabbath, we also have the opportunity to do this daily, remembering the last weekly Sabbath and anticipating the next one.

When I think about Sabbath there are four passages that come to mind: one in Genesis, one in Exodus, one in Isaiah, and one in Matthew.

In the creation story of Genesis 1 (and continuing into the first couple verses of chapter 2), God makes the world in a particular way. There’s separating light from darkness. There’s separating the sky from the ocean. There’s separating the water from dry land. Then there’s making celestial bodies to order the light and darkness. Then there’s making birds and fish to order the sky and ocean. Then there’s animals and humans to order the land. And then on the seventh day, there’s Sabbath. And Sabbath orders the whole thing. There’s completion. Everything in its right place. The narrative journey in Genesis 1 is from chaos to order, and Sabbath is the great party celebrating that everything is now where it’s supposed to be. Life in order.

When God then provides the Ten Commandments, celebrating Sabbath is included as one of these most basic guidelines for living like a human being in God’s presence. In fact, it gets more words than anything else in the Ten Commandments. For a ragtag group of slaves who knew nothing but making bricks day after day after day, every day was the same. What a radical gift of grace to hear that work is done in six days, and then one day is offered to God. Work has a finish line. Life is not about work. Life is about Sabbath.

In Isaiah 58, the prophet weaves spiritual disciplines, social justice, physical healing, and communal restoration all together leading up to Sabbath. Sabbath, again, is all of life put in the right order.

And then there’s Jesus. In Matthew 12, the gospel writer presents two back-to-back scenarios where Jesus clashes with the religious institution about Sabbath. (It includes the mic-drop moment where Jesus proclaims “I am lord of the Sabbath.”) Where the Pharisees define the Sabbath by don’ts, Jesus illustrates powerfully that Sabbath is for restoring the humanity of people. Hungry disciples can eat. A disabled man is healed. And when the Pharisees protest, Jesus heals everybody. It’s one of his more defiant gestures towards the establishment in the gospels. And bookending these two stories are these two statements, one attributed Jesus, one to the prophet Isaiah that spurs the gospel writer to think of Jesus:

Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls.
…
He will not crush the weakest reed
or put out a flickering candle.

I’d like to think that the “rest” that Jesus talks about here is connected to the rest of Sabbath. This is a “rest” that’s like defaulting back to factory settings of what it means to be a human before the damage of sin and death.

Remembering and celebrating Sabbath are about taking us back to the very beginning of the story, about restoring our humanity that thrives in God’s presence.

What does all this have to do with kids? Not much. Yet. But it lays out for us what the final picture should look like when we Sabbath well. With these in mind, here are some temptations we should be pushing back on when it comes to

We need to resist Sabbath as “rest.”

If we think of this “rest” as escape from the world, from our obligations, and worst of all, escape from our kids, we’ve got it all wrong. Sabbath is much bigger than escape or rejuvenation or recharge. “Rest” as it’s talked about in Scripture with Sabbath is more about completion. It’s the reward of the work.

I once sat with a job transition support group where the motivational speaker was talking about resumes. He suggested we should all put “SO THAT…” at the end of resume. It was a reminder that the stuff on the resume shouldn’t consume our lives. Rather, it was a means to an end. In a similar way, Sabbath serves that end for our work, even when our work is picking microscopic Legos from the carpet, baking dino-shaped chicken nuggets, or arguing with a defiant toddler that, yes indeed, it is a good idea to use the potty. What’s all that for? Even in the midst of that mess, there are hilarious jokes, sweet hugs, profound conversations, and memory-making. I want to tap into the hope of that work, the reward at the end, and try to lean into that for the “rest” of Sabbath.

We need to resist Sabbath as “me time.”

We’ve been raised in a culture that teaches us that our highest goal is personal self-fulfillment. This easily leads us to live in a constant state of the question running in our mental background, “Are my needs being met? What am I getting out of this?” Most often, this is running in the background of our minds without our even knowing it’s happening. But it’s far from a Christian way of living in the world. It’s a lie that I can find restoration within myself.

In fact, much of our Christian life is spent re-training that impulse to ask something more like: Where is God present and how can I offer myself so that we are all mutually transformed?And that has tremendous relevance in how I approach being with my family.

Sabbath is not about me. It’s about God and God’s restored presence to us all.

We need to resist seeing our kids as interruptions.

When I hear my daughter call out, “Daddy, play with me!” rather than letting that drain my energy (as has happened more often than I’d like to admit), I can hear that as an invitation to be present with God as I’m with her.

David Fitch writes, “The stunning reality is that being with children is an encounter with the living Christ. Just as with our gathering around the Table, so likewise here we gather around children. We set aside our striving and we quiet our need to control. We enter their space and tend to their presence. In their vulnerabilities, my own vulnerabilities are exposed. In so doing, a space is opened up, and Jesus becomes present and begins to work. As a result, the space for direction and care is opened up for his kingdom” (138).

He’s referencing where Jesus says, “Anyone who welcomes a little child like this on my behalf is welcoming me.” How extraordinarily true is this in my own household. In tending to the presence of my own kids, I’m receiving the very presence of Jesus.

I constantly remind myself that these so-called “interruptions” will not last forever. They’re just for a very brief season and then they will be gone. There’s an expiration date on these Divine interruptions, and I want to do my best to not miss any of them.

We need to resist Sabbath as “disengagement.”

We often tend to think about Sabbath in terms of things we don’t do on this day. We don’t work. We don’t eat at Chick-Fil-A. But it’s not just about not doing things. Sabbath should be about doing things. How do we engage the world around us differently? And how do I interact with my kids differently on this day? If we go to church, do I proactively talk to them about what we’re doing, why we’re doing it, and how God changes me as we do it? If we talk a walk together in the neighborhood, do I talk to them about how we see God together?

Marva Dawn suggests four means of engaging Sabbath, and so I want to take those and consider how I welcome my kids into those particular practices.

Ceasing

If I recognize things in my life that distract me from being present with my kids (social media, for instance), then I set that aside on Sabbath. Maybe it’s the ever-present mental to-do list. Then I have added time to look my kids in the eye, have conversations with them, read stories to them, get on the floor and play with them, have “thick” time with them.

Resting

I want to think bigger than just what brings rest to me. What brings rest to our whole family together? And even bigger, what brings rest to our whole community? And let’s do those things on this day together. Maybe it’s a routine of going to the park or going out for ice cream.

Embracing

Unplugging is only good when we use that new freedom to plug into better things. I like structure. I like certainty. I like being in control. Which is probably why I find parenting an uphill climb some days. My kids can teach me each Sabbath that there’s freedom, rest, and restoration in spontaneity, playing new games, and doing some things 20 times in a row. No doubt, it’s messy, but if Scripture is any indication, where there is mess, there is God’s presence.

Feasting

Sabbath is above all a party. Sabbath is for fun and for enjoying each other. So maybe we fix a special meal. Or go out for a treat. Maybe we invite some friends or neighbors to come over. We fire up the grill. Maybe we go on a special day trip. Whatever we do, we look forward to it and we relish it and we remember it. We are fully present to God and to each other.

Sabbath is about life worth living. Sabbath is life. And as human beings, we’re made to do it together.

Let me be honest. I screw this up more often than not. I raise my voice at my kids. I shut myself up in the office. I open Twitter up yet again when I should really just throw the phone in a drawer somewhere for the whole day. But I’m learning. I’m getting the hang of it. And there’s grace when I mess it up. And there’s Sabbath next week.

If you’ve got kids, particularly young kids, how have you celebrated Sabbath together? What’s worked for you? What hasn’t? Have you developed meaningful traditions or rituals that help? Are your kids out of the house? What advice about Sabbathing well do you have for parents of little ones? Leave a comment below. Let’s be an encouragement to one another.

I owe a lot here to Marva Dawn’s book Keeping the Sabbath Wholly. It’s revolutionary for me about Sabbath. Also, in David Fitch’s Faithful Presence, in one chapter he writes about being with children as a practice that forms the church for mission.