By Noah Spielman
I never saw coaching as just a job. From the beginning, it’s always felt like a calling. Sure, I love the science of strength and conditioning. I get fired up about developing athletes, writing programs, and watching guys hit personal records. But what keeps me going is the chance to lead with purpose. To serve. To invest in people. For me, coaching isn’t just about sport performance. It’s ministry.
That might sound surprising to some, especially in the high-stakes world of college football. But I believe when we see coaching through a spiritual lens, we create a culture that not only develops better athletes but also shapes better men. And in a world that pushes performance at all costs, we need more leaders who are willing to coach with conviction.
The Weight Room as a Mission Field
It might not look like a traditional ministry setting, but the weight room is one of the most powerful spaces for influence I’ve ever known. It’s where walls come down. Where people are raw, real, and vulnerable. I see athletes at their best and their worst—when they’re confident and when they’re struggling. That kind of access is a gift, and I try to steward it well.
I don’t lead with a sermon. I lead with presence. I lead with consistency. I show up early, stay late, listen well, and encourage boldly. And over time, relationships grow. Trust builds. Conversations open up. That’s where ministry happens—not in a chapel, but in the grind of everyday work. Coaching is about more than sets and reps, it’s about shaping hearts and character.
Conviction in a Competitive World
The world of college athletics is intensely competitive. Everyone’s chasing an edge. Everyone wants to win. And while there’s nothing wrong with pursuing excellence—I’m all for it—the danger is when we lose our way trying to get there. I’ve seen programs compromise integrity for success. I’ve seen athletes burned out, broken down, and beat up emotionally because their worth was tied to performance.
That’s where conviction matters. As a coach, I have to decide what I stand for. What kind of culture am I building? What values are we reinforcing? What kind of men are we developing?
My faith shapes those answers. It reminds me that every athlete I work with is more than a player—they’re a person. A son. A brother. A soul created with purpose. I’m not here to use them for wins; I’m here to serve them for growth. That conviction shapes every interaction, every decision, every lift.
Leading with Love and Truth
One of the biggest lessons I’ve learned is that ministry isn’t soft, it’s strong. It means loving people enough to tell them the truth. It means holding high standards, challenging laziness, correcting poor behavior—but doing it from a place of care, not control.
Some of the best moments I’ve had with players came during tough conversations. When a guy was off track. When effort was lacking. When life outside football was falling apart. In those moments, ministry looks like truth-telling. It looks like compassion. It looks like reminding them that they’re not alone and that their story isn’t over.
Love and truth go hand in hand. That’s how Jesus led, and that’s the model I try to follow as a coach. Be firm. Be fair. Be faithful.
Faith That’s Felt, Not Forced
In college athletics, not every athlete shares the same beliefs. That’s okay. I’m not here to convert anyone. I’m here to lead with integrity and let my life speak for itself. The best witness is a life well-lived.
When players ask about my “why”—why I show up the way I do, why I care so much, why I don’t cut corners—I point to my faith. It’s not just part of my life. It is my life. It informs how I lead, how I respond to stress, how I treat people, and how I make decisions.
My goal isn’t to preach at players. My goal is to live out the Gospel in a way that makes them curious. That opens doors. And when those doors open, I walk through them—not with pressure, but with humility and truth.
Legacy That Lasts
At the end of the season, the scoreboard tells one story. But I’m more interested in the story that comes years later—when a former player calls to say thank you. When a guy becomes a husband who leads his home well. When a young man walks through a personal storm and finds his footing because of the foundation we helped build.
That’s legacy. Not just trophies, but transformed lives. That’s what ministry through coaching is all about. And I wouldn’t trade it for anything.
Final Thoughts
Coaching in today’s world is more than a career. It’s a platform. A responsibility. A mission field disguised as a weight room or a practice field. And in that space, I get to do more than build athletes—I get to shape men.
That’s why I coach with conviction. Not because it’s easy, but because it’s worth it. I believe God called me to this work. And every time I step into the gym, I pray He uses me—not just to help someone run faster or lift more, but to remind them that they are seen, loved, and made for more than the game.
Sports will end. But the impact of a coach who leads with faith? That lasts forever.