Father’s Day didn’t begin in the Church; it began at a breakfast table in the state of Washington in 1910 as a cultural and secular nod to the men who raised us. The living Gospel, however, has always had a way of taking what the world celebrates and transforming it into something that points higher. Fatherhood then — real, sacrificial, Christ-shaped fatherhood — we remember this week as one of the highest callings God entrusts to a man.
Scripture doesn’t treat fathering as a sentiment, but as discipleship:
“Fathers, do not exasperate your children; instead, bring them up in the training and instruction of the Lord” (Ephesians 6:4, NIV).
Friends, that is a commission, not a greeting card.
When I was a boy, my father, Rich Christman Jr., realized something that would change my life: he had a son who needed more than provision. I needed discipleship, relationship, men who looked like Jesus, and the slow, practical work of being trained — in how to tie a knot and in how to follow the Lord. So he stepped in as fully as he could and helped lead Tree Climbers and Stockade, the father-son Wednesday night programs Browncroft hosted through the ’90s and 2000s — Scout-like ministries built and run entirely by dads. I will never forget the nights singing around fires at Camp Hickory Hill while my friend’s dad strummed the guitar. I’ll never forget listening to a challenge from Harley Bowman sitting cross-legged in the lobby in a line with other sixth graders. I’ll never forget carving a pinewood derby car with my Dad in room A8.

My dad and his friends in their 30s gathered. They gathered around open Bibles and copies of Robert Lewis’s Raising a Modern Day Knight while having pancakes in different guys’ kitchens. Then, while holding down full-time jobs and piloting their own lives, they tucked into the lives of their sons. I am who I am today because of the commitment and intentionality of my dad and his friends.
So to the fathers of Browncroft, three things today:
First, your fatherhood is a gift. You did not invent it, and you do not carry it alone. You are the image a Father who goes before you, who models the Way, who “will never leave you nor forsake you” (Deuteronomy 31:6, NIV). Your call is high, but His grace is higher. Trust me.


Second, pray for one another. There are prayer cards we made for dads at the Next Steps table left over from this Sunday. They are pictured above. Grab one. Carry it in your wallet. Pray it each morning, or every time you experience a moment of struggle in fatherhood – which, as the dad of a three-year-old, I know happens every single day anyway. Know the other fathers of our church family are praying alongside you.
Next, maybe it’s time to step into your purpose circle. I want to tell you that while you may have other purposes to step into, fatherhood is your purpose if you are a dad. Full stop. We don’t have to do it alone though, you have a circle around you. Don’t be afraid to build alliances with other dads, or to lead in the lives of our sons the way those men of Browncroft once led in mine. The next faithful generation is formed by fathers who refuse to do it by themselves, or outsource it to a program or a screen. Men, “Let us not become weary in doing good” (Galatians 6:9, NIV).
For the long obedience in the same direction,
Rich


