Will our Sons be Faithful?
Before I explain why the Southern Baptist Convention (SBC) is worth fighting for, let me tell you a story about the Presbyterian Church in America (PCA).
I came into the PCA in 2014. Early on, I met a ruling elder who, at first, struck me as a typical company man—the kind of guy who plays it safe, avoids confrontation, and just keeps the wheels turning. He was a soft-spoken Southerner. And I’m very much a blunt Midwesterner.
He had grown up in the Southern Presbyterian tradition. I didn’t grow up in the church at all. My upbringing was fractured and rootless. I had little connection to my grandfathers and no real inheritance of culture, faith, or tradition. I was, like many Americans, an accidental individualist. I didn’t think in terms of legacy. I thought in terms of immediacy.
So naturally, I misread him. I thought he was just going along with the system.
But he wasn’t.
His father had helped found the PCA. He wasn’t a company man—he was a faithful son. And that’s an entirely different thing. He wasn’t preserving an institution out of inertia. He was defending a spiritual inheritance laid down by men who had spiritually fathered him. He was grieved by the compromise creeping in—on gender, on race, on authority. But he wouldn’t walk away. Not without a fight. He saw himself holding a baton, and he meant to pass it on intact.
He understood something I was just learning: gravitas.
The Gravity of Godly Men
Gravitas is a Roman virtue—a moral force built on wisdom, maturity, and strength of character. You can sense its pull in the way a man leads, speaks, decides. It moves others—not through manipulation, but through the sheer weight of who he is. It draws people toward what is good, true, and lasting.
Scripture uses a similar word: “grave.” Elders in the church are to be grave. Fathers are to be sober-minded. It’s the same idea. A godly man carries weight. And his gravitas doesn’t stop with him. It outlives him.
This is especially obvious in a household. A father’s faithful life—or his abdication—shapes his children. But it goes further. The trajectory he sets has a ripple effect: his grandchildren, great-grandchildren, and even those outside his family are pulled into the wake of his character. This is the power of gravitas.
And what’s true of a household is true of institutions.
Gravitas Compounded
Churches are households of faith. They are led by pastors, who are, in some real sense, spiritual fathers. And when a church is filled with men of gravitas, their collective influence shapes the whole congregation. That congregation then becomes a storehouse of wisdom, character, and biblical traditions.
When churches like that join together—into a presbytery or a convention—their spiritual weight compounds. The institution becomes more than the sum of its parts. It becomes a vault of spiritual inheritance, preserving doctrine, discipline, and legacy across generations.
That’s the vision the PCA was founded on—and the fight isn’t over yet. The SBC stands at a similar crossroads, and the same kind of men can make the difference.
But this is also why institutions attract parasites.
They see the power—but not the price.
They want the influence—but not the responsibility.
They feed on what fathers built—but never protect, preserve, or pass it on.
They don’t build. They hijack.
Fight for Your Father’s House
Now look—I’m a Presbyterian. I have my disagreements with the SBC. But I’ve also come to see just how deeply my upbringing—my lack of legacy—blinded me to the value of institutions altogether.
I didn’t grow up with a sense of generational responsibility. I didn’t have a father who handed me a baton. I had to learn to build from the ground up—with no blueprint, no inheritance, and no safety net.
But now I’m 45. I’ve got a big family. I’ve planted a church. I help lead a business. And I can tell you from the inside—building anything that lasts is hard.
You’re not going to finish it. That’s not the point. You’re laying a foundation. You’re giving your sons something to build on.
That’s what godly men did for us when they built the PCA.
That’s what godly men did when they built the SBC.
And that’s what godly men must do again if we want our grandchildren to stand firm in the faith.
The Work of Faithful Sons
If the Southern Baptist tradition helped shape your faith—or even just strengthened your walk—then you owe it your prayers, and where possible, your defense.
Don’t hand it over to men who despise fatherhood.
Don’t give it up to cultural chameleons and critical theory clerics.
Don’t let the lampreys hollow out the house your fathers built.
If you’ve received a spiritual inheritance, defend it.
And if you haven’t—build one.
You don’t have to be a Baptist to see the SBC matters.
You don’t have to agree with every part of its polity to see the power of legacy.
You just have to care about the future of American Christianity.
Because if we give up every institution our forefathers built…
If we let the termites win…
If we always cut and run when the rot sets in…
Then we’re not just abandoning an institution.
We’re abandoning our sons.
Why I Didn’t Stay—and Why I was Wrong
I became deeply disillusioned with the PCA in 2019. At the time, I had little influence, and the idea that I could change anything felt naïve at best. So, while still loving her, I stepped away and planted a church in a much smaller, still-forming denomination. But I soon realized—she had her own problems, just like every other body does.
The truth is, influence grows. And in a well-formed institution, you’ll often find there are more men like you than you think. Sometimes, all it takes is someone sending up a flare—then others begin to rally. They link arms. They contend. They work to preserve what remains and to rebuild what’s been lost.
I didn’t think like that six years ago. But after watching what’s happened in our nation—and our churches—since then, I’ve come to believe this: institutions must be fought for. Not only because they’re worth saving, but because they are always targets of the Diabolical.
Your Work Will Be Raided, Too
Yes, sometimes we have to build new things. But don’t kid yourself—if you build something strong, beautiful, and biblical, the same people will come for it too. They always do.
So build with your sons in mind. Build with gravitas. Maybe you’ll need to give them the example you never had—or, Lord willing, you’ll pass on the example your father, or even your grandfather, gave to you.
Show them how to fight, defend, and build.
Because the real question is not just: Will you be faithful?
The question is: Will your sons?
Image Credit: Cornelis De Wael, A Naval Battle 1667
