On Father’s Day, it’s natural to honor the men who raised us: the ones who worked long days, taught us right from wrong, and if we were fortunate, gave us a sense of our worth in the world. But there’s another kind of fatherhood I’ve been thinking about. One that doesn’t always get a mention in greeting cards or Sunday cookouts, but that matters just as much.
It’s what I’d call spiritual fatherhood. Not in the institutional sense, but in the everyday, real-life sense of men who choose to walk with others in wisdom, guidance, and care. The kind of men who help shape someone’s character, offer encouragement when life is confusing, and model what steady faith looks like over time.
This idea came into focus for me during a recent men’s group study through the Book of Titus. We were reading The Titus Ten by J. Josh Smith1, which centers on this powerful truth:
“Everything in a man’s life hinges on the kind of man he is. Yet, none of us is naturally a godly man. That’s something we have to learn, pursue, and cultivate.”
That line stopped me. It gets to the heart of something that applies far beyond church walls. What kind of man are you becoming? What kind of man are you following? Titus is a short letter in the Bible written by the apostle Paul to a young leader. It’s full of practical wisdom about living with integrity, teaching truth, and helping others grow. In a world full of shortcuts and empty promises, it’s a call to live out real character.
Spiritual fatherhood isn’t tied to biology. It’s not about being someone’s dad on paper. It’s about showing up. It’s about saying, “I’ve been through some things, and I’ll walk with you for a while if you’ll let me.” Sometimes it’s a quiet conversation over coffee. Sometimes it’s a hard word spoken in love. Sometimes it’s simply being present.
The example I think of most is Paul and Timothy. Paul wasn’t Timothy’s father, but he invested in him deeply. He mentored him, corrected him, encouraged him, and trusted him. That relationship helped shape the early church, and it still speaks today.
There’s no shortage of young men out there trying to figure out what it means to live with purpose and strength. Some have never had a reliable father figure. Others are trying to piece things together without much help. That’s where spiritual fathers come in. Not to preach from a pedestal, but to walk alongside. To offer wisdom, not just advice. To give time, not just opinions.
I don’t have to be perfect. I just have to be faithful. I lead by example, by how I handle pressure, how I love my family, how I admit when I’m wrong. And if I’m a man of faith, I trust that God gives the strength to keep showing up, even when it’s hard. (Isaiah 41:10 is a good place to start when I need that reminder.)
This kind of fatherhood isn’t flashy. It often happens in the margins. During the late-night phone call. On the sidelines of a game. In the slow work of building trust with someone who’s trying to find their way.
You don’t have to have all the answers to step into that role. What matters is that you’re willing. Willing to invest. Willing to listen. Willing to love someone who doesn’t have it all together, which is true for most of us anyway.
If you’ve never had that kind of presence in your life, know this: God is not distant. He is a perfect Father, and sometimes He brings the right people into our lives to walk with us when we need it most. Don’t be afraid to look for those people, to ask questions, or to start building trust. Growth always happens in relationship.
So today, as we celebrate the fathers who built our homes, let’s also honor the ones who build others up in faith. Let’s thank the men who took time, took risks, and took the lead when someone needed them to. And let’s be open to doing the same for someone else.
Because in the end, legacies aren’t just passed down through family lines. They are built through love, truth, and sacrifice. That’s what spiritual fatherhood is all about.
That’s it for now. Thanks for showing up. It matters.
Photo by the author.
References:
Veni, Vidi, Scripsi 