Hello, my name is Christian Martin, and I’m a PK.”
It may feel as if once we’ve heard one story of a pastor’s kid, (PK) we’ve heard them all—the constant pressure to always lead, to be the model child; the internalized need to rise above the rest because others look to you as the standard.
Truth be told, the challenges sons and daughters of pastors face are very real. One of the common ones being identity struggles. “It is my father who is the pastor. My father is the preacher. My father is the chair of the church board. Not me.” Yet from Sabbath School to Pathfinders, I knew I was primarily identified as the son of the pastor. And that identity brought with it high expectations, constant scrutiny, and the feeling of being both well known and yet, ultimately, unknown. This was my childhood.
Yet through it all, a grounding formative force that made a life-changing impact on me was my father’s mentorship. How can I say this with confidence? Because after being raised as a pastor’s kid, I chose to become a pastor myself. As it happens, I married Heidi, a pastor’s kid herself. And consequently, we had children, and, you guessed it, we brought two more PKs into this world, Elijah and Moriah. And now it is my turn as a father to embrace the concept of paternal mentorship and practice it myself.
Christian with his son, Elijah, and daughter, Moriah.
Fathering the Heart
One reality I grappled with early on as a parent was my dual role as a pastor and as a father. They are two similar yet very distinct roles. Similar in the sense that in both roles I function as an overseer. In the book of Acts, Paul admonished the elders of the church in Ephesus, “Take heed to yourselves and to all the flock, among which the Holy Spirit has made you overseers, to shepherd the church of God which He purchased with His own blood” (Acts 20:28). In other words, take responsibility to spiritually guide and shepherd the congregation by teaching, leading, and caring for the flock. In that sense, the role of a father is no different. For I am also called as a father to spiritually guide and care for my son and my daughter. Yet understanding the difference between the two roles is crucial. In fact, there is a bit of tension between being a public figure and being a private parent.
We all can easily appreciate what a public figure does. Week after week I watched my father, Pastor Carlos G. Martin, on the platform, preaching every Sabbath morning, teaching every Sunday night, leading in prayer every Wednesday night. He was, after all, the pastor of the church. But that was not all he was. He was also my father, eating with me during meals, playing outside with me on weekdays, reading a devotional to me on a Friday night, watching a football game with me on a Sunday afternoon, taking me to school in the early morning, and helping me with homework in the late afternoon. He was, after all, my father. And the beauty of it all is that I saw a consistency between the pulpit and the living room. My dad went beyond noticing what I did to addressing why I did it. He took time with me to understand the why of my heart—he fathered my heart.
When my father challenged me to memorize scriptures or read through the Bible, his emphasis was on transformation, not performance; our Friday night discussions as a family made that possible. When my father invited me to preach my first sermon as a teen, he provided an atmosphere of safety, not fear. He first gave me opportunities to speak during prayer meeting rather than at church on Sabbath morning. Rather than focusing on present performance, my father focused on future development. He was not merely playing the role of a father, but was authentically so. He knew the value of paternal mentorship. And as he fathered my heart, he helped me to believe right. Consequently, I came to have the same goal as a father myself, to disciple the heart of my own son and daughter to love God and others.
Today I have the same commitment to my job as a pastor as my father did more than 30 years ago. But thanks to his mentorship, I have become much more aware of the importance of a commitment to my family. While pastoring is easily a “24 hours a day, 365 days a year” kind of job, I came to value the weekly day that was set apart to be with my family. In our case, it was Mondays, a weekend transition and a time to renew my task of being an overseer of my most precious flock. Mondays meant going on the road and taking time for ourselves as a family. Little did I realize the impact that taking time to be a father would have on my children, who were quickly becoming teenagers.
Gentle Guidance
The power of presence in small but impactful moments is the essence of paternal mentorship. My father’s invitation to go with him on home visits made a lasting impression on my life. The car ride became a moment for mentorship unlike any other. He would share his experiences, but I could tell he was more interested in hearing about mine. And though my father was not perfect, he was committed to modeling values and principles rather than merely lecturing about them. It is true that the way a father handles failure, stress, and church conflict can teach his children resilience and grace. In my imperfection I too am committed to providing godly guidance to my son and daughter, whose hearts I love.
My father’s mentorship helped me shape a sense of self that was unique and therefore distinct from merely a “PK identity.” My father, a fourth-generation Seventh-day Adventist and one who took pride in being part of a family legacy of denominational workers, became convicted that he could not, and must not, impose or put undue pressure on his son to become a pastor. My mother had some influence in his understanding of why this was crucially important. Our conversations focused on God’s calling rather than specifically on a pastoral calling—exploring personal gifts, even if it meant I ended up outside pastoral ministry.
It was during a spring break mission trip to Mexico with Burton Adventist Academy from Arlington, Texas, that I sensed the call to pastoral ministry. On the trip I found myself in a pastoral role by default since I spoke Spanish. Needless to say, my father was overjoyed when I announced my decision to go into pastoral ministry, though that may be a huge understatement. Reflecting on my decision, I realize it was not because I felt pressured by parental expectations. Rather, my father’s understanding, valuing, and affirming of who I was while at the same time guiding my strengths, passions, and personality to align with God’s unique plan for my own life is what influenced me.
Today I see my own son’s gifts and the desires of his heart, and believe that it is God who has been shaping them from his conception, as it is written, “Your eyes saw my substance, being yet unformed. And in Your book they all were written, the days fashioned for me, when as yet there were none of them. How precious also are Your thoughts to me, O God! How great is the sum of them! If I should count them, they would be more in number than the sand” (Ps. 139:16-18). My son’s compassionate heart expresses itself time and time again in an eagerness to help the helpless in their time of need. And while I may have ambitions for him as a father, I know that it’s our heavenly Father who gives time and opportunity for my son to discover God’s will for his life. It is my responsibility, as a father and as a mentor, to train my son to discern the will of God for his life.
Spirituality Lived Out
And while paternal mentorship may include teaching life skills and practical tasks, it is more about strengthening the child’s spiritual muscle through a lived faith that is more shown than spoken. I would go as far as to say that biblical discipleship is one of the greatest forms of mentorship whose fruit lasts for eternity.
Paternal mentorship through a lived faith includes intercessory prayers as spiritual leader of the home, and time in the reading and studying of the Bible as priest of the family circle. Some of my most precious memories include the times my son, at an early age, would take his own Bible and want to underline it as he so often saw me do. And while not knowing how to read yet, he could easily recognize the words “Jesus” and “God” in the biblical text. So I would select entire chapters for him, and he would carefully “read” through it and underline the name that is above every name (Phil. 2:9), and thus learn to engage with Scripture at an early age. Our daughter learned to do the same, and today, as teenagers, they both take time in the morning with Jesus. Oh, the joy of paternal spiritual mentorship!
While a parent must teach their children to navigate through the daily challenges of everyday life, there will be times that the children will see “behind the scenes” of church life, and it’s not always pretty. It may include conflict, burnout, and betrayal. It is in these moments as a pastor that my intervention as a father is of utmost importance. Issues are often brutal, but paternal mentorship can offer honesty without insult or even negativity. This involves teaching the difference between God and God’s people; understanding that the church is like a training school or a greenhouse, but it is also a hospital, a place where sick people can find healing. The situation may be most challenging, but if it’s left unaddressed, the consequences can be devastating, leading to disappointment and disillusionment. It’s no wonder Barna states that “two out of every five pastors (40 percent) say their child, age 15 or older, went through a period where they significantly doubted their faith.”1
Paternal mentorship seeks to navigate through dark shadows and disciple their children to keep their eyes fixed on Jesus at all times, no matter what. First Peter 3:9 counsels us to be peacemakers, “not returning evil for evil or reviling for reviling, but on the contrary blessing, knowing that you were called to this, that you may inherit a blessing.” And the blessing of paternal mentorship is truly one of great reward.
The joy of mentoring comes with tears and even pain. It often may feel as if it is all an uphill journey. As John Maxwell is well known for saying: “Everything worthwhile in life is uphill.”2 No achievement is accidental; intentionality is required. And when one gets back up again after taking a tumble, when small achievements are accomplished, victories gained, and prayers answered, it will be worth every single effort that was put forth. In more ways than one my father’s mentorship continues to shape how I mentor my own son and daughter. Thus a legacy is born.
I thank God that I can testify of the formative power of paternal mentorship both in my experience with my father and, by God’s grace, in the parenting of my own children. I encourage you to seek, in your mentorship, not perfection, but presence and love.
1 Barna, “Prodigal Pastor Kids: Fact or Fiction?” Nov. 11, 2013, https://www.barna.com/research/prodigal-pastor-kids-fact-or-fiction, accessed Apr. 16, 2025.
2 See, for instance, “Minute With Maxwell: UPHILL,” Dec. 2, 2019, https://www.youtube.com/watch?app=desktop&v=mxrf_FJYfgI, accessed Apr. 16, 2025.