Editor’s note: Danny Cometto is Board Chairman at FRCS.
Born from above
This fall marks a bittersweet milestone for Kathy and me. After two decades of raising kids in our home—lunches packed, carpools run, sports cheered on, and family dinners filled with laughter and tears—we now find ourselves walking a little more quietly through the house. Our daughter, Alexandra, is settling into life at Regent University in Virginia Beach, and our son, Benjamin, is navigating grad school in Boston. We’re proud of them, but we’re also adjusting to the silence.
This transition has stirred in us a lot of reflection—not just about our kids, but about our role as parents, and what really matters as we launch them into adulthood. Have we prepared them to thrive in their faith? Have we raised kids who know how to perform… or kids who know how to abide in Christ?
That reflection brought to mind the story of Nicodemus, the Pharisee who came to Jesus by night in John 3. Nicodemus was moral, disciplined, respected. He was, by all accounts, a “good man.” But Jesus tells him plainly:
“Unless one is born of water and the Spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of God.” (John 3:5)
It’s a startling moment. Nicodemus—respected, faithful, and immersed in the religious life—approaches Jesus, seeking the kingdom. But Jesus doesn’t commend him for noticing spiritual authority or affirm all he’s achieved. Instead, He tells him what He would tell the poorest or most broken among them: “Unless one is born from above, he cannot see the kingdom of God.” (John 3:3)
It’s not about adding something to a good life. It’s about starting over—cleansed and filled by the Spirit of God.
As a parent, I find myself pondering: in a world that often celebrates outward behavior and achievement, have I remained centered on what matters most—that my children would come to know life in the Spirit, not just how to live well? The goal was never simply to raise well-behaved or successful kids, but to help them see the beauty of a life surrendered to God—a life that only He can give.
And the truth is, I can’t control that. Only God gives new birth. But I can prepare the soil. I can be faithful to the small, daily things—to pray, to listen, to repent, to walk humbly. I can allow my own life and marriage to not only speak of faith, but to quietly model what it truly means to live from it.
What This Means for All of Us
As a School Community
As I think about our school, I believe Nicodemus speaks not just to us as parents, but to all of us—faculty, staff, students, and leadership.
To our faculty and staff:
You are often the “teachers of Israel” in our students’ lives. Like Nicodemus, your knowledge, structure, and faithfulness are beautiful gifts. But even the best curriculum can’t replace the movement of the Spirit. Our calling is not merely to educate, but to cultivate space for the Spirit to bring about new life in our students. That may look messy. It may take time. But it’s the only thing that matters in eternity.
To our parents:
We know the desire to raise “good kids.” It’s natural. But let’s not mistake religious performance for spiritual rebirth. Let’s keep encouraging one another to parent not just for obedience, but for transformation—praying that our children come to know Jesus deeply, even if their path isn’t as tidy as we hoped.
To our students:
You may feel pressure to meet expectations—to behave, to believe, to check the boxes. But Jesus isn’t inviting you to perform. He’s inviting you to surrender. To come to Him with your questions, your fears, your sin, and your dreams—and be born from above. You don’t need to clean yourself up first. You need only to come—and let Him make you new.
From Empty Nests to Full Hearts
Kathy and I are just beginning to learn what it means to parent adult children. We’re learning that we don’t stop praying, don’t stop loving, and certainly don’t stop hoping. But we are also learning to release. Our role isn’t to carry their faith—but to point them to the One who can give it.
And as a school, I believe God is calling us into that same kind of release—moving from control to trust, from outward forms to inward renewal, and from striving in our own strength to walking in the Spirit.
So let us walk as Nicodemus did:
From shadows into light.
From knowing about the law to knowing the Lord.
From religious effort to spiritual rebirth.
May we always be a school community where the Spirit of God is welcome to work—not just in our students, but in every one of us.
