Photo by John Brundage

In July, I visited the zoo with my five-year-old godson. On this excursion, I took on what has to date been my largest share of the supervising duties. My experience reminded me of the hospital visits I’ve made as a seminarian. For some of these, I reported to my assignment dressed in clerics. When people saw me in a black shirt with a roman collar, they naturally assumed I must be a priest, and they would call me ‘Father.’ When people saw me carrying a backpack and guiding my godson through the exhibits, they naturally assumed I was his dad. 

Just as being called and talked to as if I were a priest gave me an eye-opening window into what it would be like to be a priest, being called and talked to as if I were a dad gave me the clearest picture I’ve ever had of what it would be like if I actually were a dad. I thought of how my life could have gone in a different direction. Had I not attended seminary, I could easily have had a five-year-old child of my own by now.

Looking at the parents around me, receiving their knowing glances, and watching how they corralled their children, I marveled at how similar we were. These people weren’t any older than me, and they weren’t necessarily any smarter or wiser than me. Yet another reminder that there’s no magical threshold, secret handbook, or transformative initiation that fully equips us for the roles we take on as adults. We are simply thrust in, ready or not.

I don’t envy these young parents for having to figure out all of their personal issues and manage their spiritual development on the fly while navigating the tremendous responsibilities of parenthood, career, and marriage. For all the tedium and difficulties of seminary, it gives a focused, structured environment with many opportunities for personal development.

While I’ve appreciated these opportunities, I can also see how parenthood accelerates personal development. Just one afternoon of caring for my godson and having him look to me to explain the world to him gave me a different mindset. My needs and desires were secondary to my godson’s, and I had a responsibility not just to instruct him but also to set a good example for him. Even now, I find myself wondering, “What would I tell my godson in this situation?” 

As the saying goes, ‘we learn by teaching.’ Parenthood is one of the best ways to learn how to be human because you help build a human being from the ground up. Those of us without children might have more time on our hands, and we might profit greatly if we take advantage of it. But I suspect that one child is better than a thousand self-help books. Whether we end up becoming biological parents or not, we need to develop the mindset of a father and a mother. 

Just as other people need our help, we need the help of others. Some of us have better father and mother figures than others. But all of us can take hope that we are not alone in our life’s journey. You are God’s beloved child. Whether you realize it or not, he is caring for you and guiding you. The best way to respond to this gift is to pay it forward.

Take out a piece of paper and list three people you serve as a father or mother figure. Now imagine they knew everything about the way you go about your day. Would these people live happy lives if they followed your example? Write down one concrete way you could set a better example for them. 

John Brundage is a seminarian with the Companions of the Cross. He also writes a Substack Newsletter called Integrated Prayer.