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O' Father Where Art Thou?

Now and then, you read something so good you have to share it. Immediately.

I came across this piece by my brother,

Virgil Walker

, this morning. So clear. So concise. Prophetic even [If you are not reading Virgil, you should]…

"Married. Mid-fifties. Faithful attender. Tithes. Serves on the security team. He's read The Gospel According to Jesus and watches Ligonier's

But when the pastor reached out and asked, 'Would you be willing to walk with this young man? Help him grow in the Word? Maybe meet once a week?'

The response came quickly. Awkward chuckle... 'I'm probably not the best guy for that. I wouldn't even know where to start.'

Twenty-five years in the pew. Zero ability—or worse, zero desire—to pass anything on.

We don't have a shortage of older men in the Church. We have a shortage of spiritual fathers. These men have heard thousands of sermons. They know what a solid church looks like. They've weathered moral scandals, navigated church splits, and have strong opinions about music styles and Bible translations. But when it comes to intentionally raising upthe next generation of men in the faith—they're missing in action.

Titus 2 doesn't say, 'Older men, let the pastors handle it.' It says: 'Older men are to be sober-minded, dignified, self-controlled, sound in faith, in love, and in steadfastness.' (2:2) That's not just a call to personal maturity. It's a call to become someone worth following.

We need men who can say to younger brothers, as Paul did, 'Follow me as I follow Christ.' And mean it."

Virgil then goes on to share why so many experienced men sideline themselves in the church:

1. They were never discipled.

Many men sat in churches where programs replaced relationships. They were taught to consume, not to reproduce.

No one ever showed them how to read the Bible with someone, how to ask hard questions, or how to pray out loud with another man. They've been trained to sit still and stay quiet.

2. They are Biblically deficient.

Some have been in church for years but can't explain the gospel with clarity. They know what they believe, but not why. They've absorbed just enough truth to sound orthodox, but not enough to live boldly or teach others.

3. They are spiritually disengaged.

For some, the fire has gone out. Their spiritual life has flatlined. The thought of pouring into another man feels more like a burden than a mission. They're not living with eternity in view. They're coasting.

4. They are ashamed of their past.

Others stay quiet because they're carrying sin. Unresolved guilt. Pornography. Affairs. Failures as husbands and fathers. Instead of repenting and rising, they bury their voice in silence. Satan doesn't need them to be wicked. He just needs them to stay neutral.

"And yet, in any other field, this would be unthinkable. If you met a man who had been selling stocks for 25 years and he shrugged and said, 'I don't really know how to explain any of it,' you'd laugh. If a plumber with decades of experience acted like he had nothing to pass on, you'd be shocked. But in the Church, that's the norm.

Men sit in pews for 25 years, say they love Jesus, nod through solid preaching, and yet act like they've got nothing to give the next generation. And for some reason, we tolerate it. No one calls it out. No one rebukes the silence. But make no mistake: this is destroying a generation of men.

The crisis isn't just the silence of the fathers—it's the cost paid by the sons."

I [Harp] have said before, when young men have no guide, they will turn one of three ways:

1. He will guess at his purpose and manhood, wrecking his life and the lives of others.

2. He will embody the culture, imitating and embracing the culture's definition of manhood that typically results in some form of messy, toxic [or hollow] masculinity. Following Andrew Tate, who preaches dominance and self-worship. Idolizing Jordan Peterson, who offers structure and discipline without salvation. Clinging to and quoting Joe Rogan and a slew of Instagram pastors who give bite-sized inspiration with no accountability.

3. He will slow-quit his manhood, resigning, as he lives a sluggish, heart-breaking existence to the point of spiritual and [too often] physical death.

"When fathers disappear, sons look for replacements. And the world has plenty of volunteers."

Virgil concludes:

"Be the man you wish had raised you. If you're a man over 50 and know Christ, the question isn't whether you have something to offer. The question is: Are you willing to give it?

Because the next generation isn't asking for perfection. They're not looking for celebrity, charisma, or cool. They're looking for consistency. They're looking for someone who is still standing when the storm clears.

It's not too late. Start with one man. Read Scripture together. Pray with him. Ask questions. Share your failures and your faith.

You don't need a platform. You need presence.

You don't need to be impressive. You need to be invested. Because the Church does not rise on the backs of influencers, it rises on the shoulders of fathers.

We don't need more noise. We need legacy.

We don't need more content creators. We need covenant keepers.

We didn't need more men with takes. We need men with tears—men who will weep, war, and walk with the sons behind them.”

Virgil is asking the right question: "Where are the [spiritual] fathers?"

For the King,

— Harp

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