The High Calling of Fatherhood
Fathering when done well is a glimpse of God the Father
Though Pastor is the title I’m known by for most people, I have at least one other title more important than it: father. I am the dad to three children, and today, on Father’s Day, I am reflecting on this high calling of raising my children.
I can vividly remember the first time holding a child of my own. It was a surreal moment, realizing this person was now totally reliant on me. As the years go on, they are developing independence, and the amount of time I share with them slowly evaporates, but the role I hold in each of their lives remains.
I have a habit of asking my kids before bed what the best part of their day was. My youngest daughter’s usual response is, “I don’t remember.” But when I give her enough time to reflect on the day she almost always highlights something with our family. She desires presence with her people, including her dad.
Last week Jon Bellion released a new song that just wrecked me. “My Boy” is a song about Jon desiring to keep his son from the pain of life in the world. He says to open the verse:
Lord, it's tough to hold my son and be here in the moment
I need to keep him safe, tell me which direction this world is going
In an interview about what motivated the song he went back to the first moment of holding his son and all the fear that invaded his mind, “He's your first son coming into the world. You should be a happy dad who's not scared of anything. You shouldn't feel these things. Then, I felt shame.”
He goes on to focus on how he embraces being a dad, talking with his son about trying to be a good dad. His son tells him, “a present father is worth way more than a perfect dad.”
For some that line will sting, not having grown up with the gift of a father’s presence. For others, it’s convicting, knowing they were not what they could have been. For me, it’s inspiring, knowing God has charged me with the task of giving three children my presence, not my perfection.
We have ample evidence showing the significance that a father has in a child’s life. Children without a present father are:
four times more likely to live in poverty
twice as likely to be involved in sexual activity before the age of 18
nearly five times more likely to spend time in prison
Even Freud, despite his clinical focus on the mind, recognized the irreplaceable role a father plays, saying: "I cannot think of any need in childhood as strong as the need for a father's protection." What children need is the presence of a father.
But presence alone seems like a weak goal. Shouldn’t fathers be more than simply there?
Five Kinds of Fathers
1 Corinthians 4:15 is a helpful reminder of the plight for many, “Though you have countless guides in Christ, you do not have many fathers.” Our world has no shortage of voices offering advice, but what it desperately needs is more fathers who will show the way through love, example, and sacrifice. That’s the call, and it involves more than mere presence.
In his book The Intentional Father, Jon Tyson outlines five types of fathers.
The Irresponsible Father: This is the completely absent dad. He’s not around, not providing, not showing up in any meaningful way. His kids barely know his name, let alone feel his care. He has opted out entirely, leaving behind a trail of wounds and a legacy of absence.
The Ignorant Father: He’s not trying to disappear, but he still does damage. He doesn’t know what it means to be a dad, and what’s more, he’s not trying to improve. His lack of awareness toward both himself and his children, causes harm he doesn’t even realize. Many ignorant fathers are simply living out of their unhealed places.
The Inconsistent Father: Now and then, he is a great dad, but he’s often distracted by his main pursuits. Work, hobbies, and personal ambition get the best of his time and energy. He has moments of guilt and tries to make up for lost time, but the pattern never really changes. His kids are left wondering if they can count on him.
The Involved Father: This dad is always around. He’s present at the games and performances. He’s doing a lot of good things, but sometimes he’s so caught up in the busyness of parenting that he misses the deeper call. He never quite slows down enough to truly know who his children are or why God entrusted them to him. He’s present but not seeing the big picture.
The Intentional Father: This dad leans in. He listens, learns, and pays attention. His goal is not to be a present dad, but to shepherd his kids toward who God made them to be. He sees fatherhood as one of his highest callings and gives it his very best. This kind of father doesn’t just leave memories—he leaves a legacy.
This is the vision: to be an intentional father who helps shape not just the rules of the home for his children, but their hearts. Intentional fathers raise kids who are confident in who they are, anchored by their father’s love, and even more secure in God’s love. This kind of fatherhood doesn’t happen by accident. It takes active presence and purposeful prayer.
A Picture of God the Father
God has given us, as our Father, the gift of presence and intentionality. Through His Spirit, He is a constant companion and guide—even when life feels uncertain, when we don’t know which direction the world is going.
One of my favorite verses about God as Father comes from Psalm 68:5, which says, “A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows, is God in his holy dwelling.” That’s the kind of Father, God is: not distant or passive, but close, attentive, and fiercely present. Even in moments when we feel forgotten or when we struggle with the absence or imperfection of earthly fathers, we are not abandoned. Our heavenly Father doesn’t withdraw, He draws near.
It’s no accident that when Jesus taught His disciples how to pray, He started with the words, “Our Father.” Before asking for daily bread or forgiveness or direction, we begin by remembering who we’re speaking to: a Father who is both holy and near. He sees us. He knows what we need. And He delights in us as His children.
And as we anchor ourselves in that truth, we’re invited to let His presence shape us. What does it take to become the kind of father God calls us to be?
Developing as Dads
“The Spirit you received does not make you slaves, so that you live in fear again; rather, the Spirit you received brought about your adoption to sonship. And by Him we cry, ‘Abba, Father.’”
—Romans 8:15
There’s a battle going on in the soul of every man—a battle between the spirit of fear and the Spirit of adoption. One shrinks us into apathy, detachment, and insecurity. The other calls us into love, strength, and purpose.
The orphan spirit lives out of fear and apathy: I will fall short.
The adopted spirit lives out of love and courage: God will lead me forward.
When we don’t know who we are—when we’re unsure of our place in the world or in God’s family—we drift. We shut down. We fake it. That’s the orphan spirit at work. It whispers, “You’re on your own. No one’s got your back.”
But Scripture tells a different story. By the Spirit, we’ve been adopted. We are sons. And that identity changes everything. We cry out “Abba, Father” not as beggars, but as sons—fully known, deeply loved, and never alone.
That’s true for all of us, but on Father’s Day, I want to speak more directly to men. In Christ's body, all men play a fathering role. I believe God is raising up a generation of men who know who they are in Christ and live from that truth, not just for themselves, but for the good of everyone they lead and love.
With nature as an example, you could say that men are meant to live like rivers instead of ponds. A pond is still and self-contained. It might look peaceful on the surface, but it becomes murky, overgrown, and stagnant over time. A river, on the other hand, is always moving, always giving. It shapes the land, nourishes the soil, and brings life to everything along its banks.
Men are called to be rivers. Not stagnant. Not self-contained. Full of movement and purpose; men who flow with the Spirit of God and carve paths of blessing through our homes, churches, and communities. God didn’t create us to sit still. He made us to bring life.
Play the Man
Church history gives us a picture of that kind of man. Around 160 AD, a church leader named Polycarp was led into the arena to be martyred for his faith. He had been personally discipled by one of Jesus’s disciples, John. He knew he was loved by the Father, and he stood firm in that identity. When the moment of demise came, history tells us he heard another voice from heaven—a voice calling him not just to rest in his identity but to rise in courage.
“Be strong, Polycarp, and play the man!”
That’s the voice many of us need today. The voice that reminds us that the people around us need more than presence, not performance or perfection, but a faithful witness of courageous love. A life marked by the Spirit of adoption, not the fear of the orphan.
Men, our families, our churches, and our communities don’t need more passive, distracted, or defeated fathers. They need men who hear the voice of the Father and respond in strength. They need men who show up, who pour in, who stand firm, and who press on.
So this Father’s Day, will you live like an orphan or like a son? Will apathy or courage define you?
Play the man.
You are a beloved son and you were made for this.