The History of Godly Play

The story of Godly Play unfolds in three movements: its origin as an idea born out of theological questioning and personal experience; its development through the Center for the Theology of Childhood; and its global expansion through the Godly Play Foundation. Across more than sixty years (1960–2021), this is not a story of one person alone, but of a community of collaborators, teachers, children, theologians, and institutions who shaped the work together.

The Idea of Godly Play (1960–1974)

The beginning of Godly Play is not marked by a program or institution, but by a question.

In 1960, while a student at Princeton Theological Seminary, Jerome Berryman found himself wondering how children could retain what they already knew of God through lived experience, while also growing in mature Christian understanding. The question was not abstract. It arose in the classroom of D. Campbell Wyckoff during a required Christian education course in Stuart Hall.

Wyckoff was lecturing from material that would soon become his book Theory and Design of Christian Education Curriculum (1961), while the class also engaged with James D. Smart’s The Teaching Ministry of the Church (1954). Both texts reflected serious efforts within Presbyterian education to structure how faith was taught. But for Berryman, something felt missing.

His own experience of God as a child had not been structured or systematized. It had been immediate—woven into ordinary life, unseparated from imagination, nature, and relationships. The church’s problem, he began to believe, was not how to convince children to believe in God, but how to help them grow in awareness of what they already knew without distorting it.

His frustration eventually surfaced sharply in class. It was disruptive enough that Professor Wyckoff, with Dean Homrighausen’s involvement, required him to leave the course and instead pursue a tutorial. What might have been a disciplinary turning point became, instead, a vocational one. Wyckoff assigned him the task of writing his own theory of Christian education. That task would remain unfinished in a sense for decades, but it became the seed of Godly Play. Wyckoff himself became a mentor, then colleague, then lifelong friend.

During this same period, another foundational thread entered the story. One day in Princeton, Jerome saw Thea walking down Nassau Street, her braid swinging as she moved through conversation and motion with an ease and vitality that struck him deeply. That moment marked a transition in his life from what he later described as the “brown of the Kansas prairie” into the vibrant color of shared life and creativity with Thea.

They married in 1961 and began a life that combined theological study, artistic development, and practical labor. Thea studied voice at Westminster Choir College while also developing her identity as a dancer and musician. Jerome continued theological training, but their shared life was shaped as much by work as by study. They cared for a historic estate in Princeton, where Thea served as housekeeper and Jerome tended formal gardens, orchards, and grounds. The rhythm of hands-on work alongside intellectual formation would later echo in Godly Play itself.

By 1962, they moved to Hutchinson, Kansas, where Jerome served as interim minister at First Presbyterian Church. Their daughter Alyda was born that same year. Yet even as ministry began, the deeper vocational question remained unresolved. Jerome continued scanning for a way to work with children in a meaningful and sustained way.

Over the next years, the family moved frequently—Lawrence, Kansas; Culver, Indiana; and eventually Tulsa—while Jerome pursued graduate studies in philosophy, English literature, and law. These shifts were not detours so much as explorations, each revealing more clearly what he was not yet doing.

It was in Culver, Indiana, while working as chaplain, teacher, and coach at a military academy, that a painful realization emerged: by adolescence, much of a child’s spiritual formation was already set. If meaningful work with children was to happen, it needed to begin earlier. Yet the church offered few roles for young men to work directly with children.

The birth of his second daughter, Coleen, in 1967—who was born with spina bifida and hydrocephalus—deepened his awareness of vulnerability, care, and the unique ways children encounter the world. Her life, marked by both challenge and grace, would remain a central influence in the family’s journey.

Still, vocational clarity remained elusive. After completing law school at the University of Tulsa, Jerome entered business in Little Rock, Arkansas. Yet even there, the question persisted quietly in the background.

The breakthrough came unexpectedly while observing children in a Montessori school that their daughters attended. In that moment, something crystallized. Montessori education revealed a way forward: children could learn through self-directed, sensory engagement with carefully prepared materials. What if Christian language and story could be learned in the same way—not imposed, but discovered?

This insight became decisive. The family moved to Italy, where Jerome studied Montessori education at the Centro Internazionale Montessoriano in Bergamo. There he encountered a pedagogical system that aligned deeply with his theological intuition.

It was also during this period, in the winter of 1971–72, that he met Sofia Cavalletti in Rome. Their encounter marked the beginning of a decades-long friendship and exchange of ideas between Godly Play and Catechesis of the Good Shepherd.

From Italy, the family returned to the United States, and Jerome’s work moved into practical implementation. He led Montessori programs in Cleveland Heights, then in Houston, where the family relocated for Coleen’s medical care. There, Jerome worked in Montessori classrooms, hospital settings, and churches, testing ideas in real communities with children.

By the mid-1970s, the foundational insight had taken shape: children learn theology not through abstraction, but through story, movement, material, and silence.

The Center for the Theology of Childhood (1974–2007)

The decade beginning in the mid-1970s marked the transition from idea to sustained practice.

In Houston, Jerome’s work expanded dramatically across hospitals, universities, and churches. He worked with children facing illness at Texas Children’s Hospital and M.D. Anderson Cancer Center, collaborated with psychiatrists studying family systems, and taught medical ethics in clinical settings.

Through this work, a deeper realization emerged: families in crisis often lacked narrative language. They did not tell stories, and without story, children struggled to make meaning. This insight strengthened the central role of narrative in what would become Godly Play.

During this period, early forms of “theological play” were developed at the Institute of Religion. Saturday research sessions began, first informal and later structured with observation rooms and video recording. What had once been intuition was becoming a method.

By 1978, Jerome co-authored Life Maps with Sam Keen and James Fowler, connecting developmental psychology, theology, and narrative identity. The work sold widely and reflected growing interest in life-story theology.

In the 1980s and 1990s, Godly Play emerged more clearly as a method. Workshops, classrooms, and training sessions developed. The Center for the Theology of Childhood was formally established, integrating child theology with adult theological reflection.

Christ Church Cathedral in Houston became a central site of development, featuring purpose-built Godly Play rooms. Godly Play Resources (GPR) was established in Kansas to produce physical materials—wooden figures, sacred objects, and storytelling tools—transforming abstract method into tangible practice.

Conferences began to spread the work nationally and internationally, particularly through Sewanee, Tennessee, where early training-of-trainers models were developed in partnership with theological educators.

By the 1990s, Godly Play had become both a method and a movement. Publications such as Godly Play: A Way of Religious Education (1991) and Teaching Godly Play (1995) formalized the approach.

Yet growth also brought complexity. Organizational structures emerged, partnerships formed, and questions of governance, ownership, and mission became increasingly important.

The Godly Play Foundation (2007–2021)

By 2007, the Center for the Theology of Childhood transitioned into the Godly Play Foundation, marking a new institutional phase.

Jerome stepped down as executive director, and leadership responsibilities shifted to the board and to Cheryl Minor, who became the Director of the Center for the Theology of Childhood within the Foundation. At the same time, discussions began about mergers, partnerships, and the long-term sustainability of the work.

This period was marked by both expansion and tension. Conversations with Church Publishing and Virginia Theological Seminary revealed differing visions of institutional alignment. While partnerships promised stability, they also raised concerns about mission integrity and independence.

Internally, leadership structures evolved. Rebecca McClain played a pivotal role in guiding the transition and stabilizing the organization during uncertain years. The Foundation moved geographically and administratively, eventually establishing a presence at St. Mark’s Cathedral in Seattle.

During this time, Godly Play expanded internationally through conferences in Europe, Canada, Africa, and Australia. The International Advisory Board—later the Godly Play International Council—was formed to support global collaboration while respecting cultural diversity.

Tragedy also shaped this period deeply. In 2009, Thea died after a long illness, marking a profound personal loss within the narrative of the movement itself.

Despite these challenges, the work continued to grow. New publications were released, research deepened, and training systems matured. Godly Play became not only a method of religious education but also a subject of academic inquiry.

By the 2010s, international conferences reflected a global community engaged in shared practice and reflection. Publications and research volumes documented theological, psychological, and educational dimensions of the work.

In 2020, the COVID-19 pandemic forced rapid adaptation. In-person storytelling circles shifted online, training moved to digital platforms, and new forms of connection emerged. What had always depended on presence now had to be reimagined through distance.

During this period, a new Executive Director, Heather Ingersoll, Ph.D., was appointed. Her leadership focused on strengthening organizational infrastructure, financial development, and global communication systems.

By 2021, Godly Play had become a global movement with academic, ecclesial, and pedagogical presence across multiple continents. A major gift to Virginia Theological Seminary established the Berryman Family Professorship in Children’s Spirituality and Nurture, extending the work into formal theological education. In 2024, Jerome Berryman died, and his personal library and archives were sent to Virginia Theological Seminary.

The Godly Play Foundation is now in a new phase of development, similar to what happens to many organizations when its founder passes away. The Board of Directors has been deeply engaged in strategic planning, searching for a way forward that allows the creativity that characterized Berryman’s work while honoring his legacy. 

Conclusion

The story of Godly Play is ultimately not only about development or expansion, but about the continuity of a question:

How do children come to know God in ways that honor their experience, deepen over time, and remain faithful to the mystery they already sense?

Across six decades, that question has taken many forms—personal, pedagogical, institutional, and global. It has passed through homes, classrooms, hospitals, churches, and conferences. It has been shaped by joy, conflict, collaboration, loss, and renewal.

And it continues, for the story of Godly Play is not only something that has been told. It is something still being lived, and still being discovered by those who enter it.