Friends, welcome to The Book of Common Words, where we explore the Christian spirituality of being human through poetry and prose about my life, art, and the Christian faith. I’m your writer, Aaron. This publication is 100% reader supported. Thanks for joining me in this exploration.

What does it take to be a man?

This question haunts the halls of churches obsessed with de-feminizing Christianity. Apparently, the church has grown soft and feminine, thus driving men away from the pews. So, we need to rediscover the power of masculinity and lure men back to church, thus reversing the feminization of Christianity and saving it from becoming apostate.

At least that’s how the argument goes, from what I can tell.

This thinking has been around for a while. I remember growing up in the shadow of Promise Keepers, a movement in the church to call men back to faithfulness. Before that, the Power Team displayed feats of strength and might as tools to share the gospel. And there were books. Book after book about what it means to be a man, about the struggle it is to be a real man, about the way men are supposed to lead the home. I suppose the message of all the books can be summed up in the book, “Wild at Heart” (which is just a bad book).

The premise is that men were created for adventure, for risk taking, for ruggedness. Somewhere between childhood and adulthood, we men lost that truth and began settling for less and less, thus becoming less and less in touch with the wild, masculine part of our hearts.

The remedy? Camping. Hiking. Hunting. Doing “manly stuff” with other men so that during talks around the campfire we could discuss our trauma and father wounds, find healing over the weekend, and go back being the husbands and fathers our families really wanted. This was the key to rediscovering masculinity in the church: let men be men.

 All of this stems from a power structure called patriarchy. According to patriarchy, men are the apex of God’s creation, entrusted to guide, protect, and control women and children to ensure the salvation of the people in their “care.” Men were designed to hold power, to lead, to be the exemplars, almost mediators between the world and God. After all, Adam was created before Eve and when God became human, God became man.

We call God “father” because God is masculine, confirmed by the revelation of Jesus (a man) as the means of changing the world. Even though Jesus came in humility once, he is returning in full masculinity, wild, adventurous, rugged, violent, and conquering.

These ideas form the patriarchal structure that keeps men in charge, women in their place, and creates an entire system of value based upon testosterone and a penis.

Patriarchy is oppressive. It demeans and abuses women and children. It creates churches that are unhealthy at best and toxic at worst. The kind of theology it produces is nothing but self-defending, self-justifying, self-righteous bullshit that depends on literalistic, fundamentalist readings of scripture and the assumption that men are superior to women.

So often, Christianity depends on patriarchy in order to keep order and religious structure. But is that true Christianity? Is Jesus really the apex of the apex men, the man’s man? Is God masculine? Is patriarchy the “Biblically based” system of power that is the answer to culture and society’s ills?

Short answer, no.

In the midst of all its flaws, abuse, and toxic privilege, the primary reason I see patriarchy as being unchristian is Jesus’ passion narrative subverts patriarchy by showing a savior that empties himself for the sake of others rather than asserting and clinging to power.

Truth is, Jesus was a man born into a patriarchal society. Jesus benefited from patriarchy. He was immediately imbued with some privilege and rights that women weren’t given. That’s just the truth; we can’t get around it and we have to acknowledge it if we want to see the subversion of patriarchy in the passion of Jesus. But, despite his imbued privilege, Jesus ended up facing death at the collusion of religious and political leaders with the empire of Rome. It is in the face of this death that we most clearly see Jesus’ subversion to the expectations and structure of patriarchy.

First of all is Jesus’ silence. He says a handful of words during his arrest and trial, choosing instead to not offer a verbal defense of the charges and accusations brought against him. This directly led to the death of an innocent man.

But in patriarchal churches, men speak up. When accused of abuse, they decry the victim, flip the accusations, and generally use their words to deny, discourage, and defame their detractors. A man is never to be questioned in patriarchy. They are right and always in the right. The unfortunate truth is that when these accusations come up, the louder the man speaks out in defense, the greater the chances of guilt seem to be.

But Jesus is silent in the face of accusations. He had every right to defend himself, and in doing so, could have saved his own life. He didn’t though, choosing to instead willingly give his life over to the lies and defamation of his life so that in the end he would be vindicated by God—and what is resurrection if not vindication?

Jesus trusted God to be his vindicator. Jesus trusted God to justify him. Jesus trusted God would set the record straight. Jesus didn’t need to protest the charges and accusations. Jesus knew his own innocence, and in that secure knowledge, knew that God wouldn’t let his enemies triumph over him.

Jesus also knew he was innocent. He knew what kind of life he lived, what words he spoke, and what actions he did. He didn’t need to prove he was innocent, he just had to trust that the truth would come out and speak for him.

Can you imagine a pastor being accused of abuse and not defending himself, but instead allowing his position to be taken from him and submitting to an inquiry from a third party? Only someone who knows their own innocence could do such a thing, knowing God would vindicate them in the end.

Jesus also chose the way of radical nonviolence in the face of horrendous violence.

The Silence of Christ wasn’t simply a capitulation to the system. No, it was a prophetic movement against the power that the empire wielded, culminating in crucifixion. Crucifixion was the ultimate execution, a humiliation that stripped away all dignity and humanity. The crucified were left hanging for days as a warning to other would be insurrectionists: look, this is what the empire does to the dissenter. Fall in line, or this will be your fate as well.

Jesus faced torture and humiliation before his crucifixion. Yet, he did not lash out. He did not speak a word of anger or the threat of retaliation. There was nothing in the face of brutality but a steadfastness to non-violence. Nothing the state could do to him would make him break that non-violent behavior. Even in the crucifixion itself, the only words Jesus spoke about his torturers and executioners were words of forgiveness. “Father, forgive them for they know not what they do” is a statement against the violence Rome used to keep the peace of the Empire.

But men are supposed to hold our own. I was raised to believe that I was never to start a fight, but if I was in one, I would finish it. In patriarchy, men rule with force. Corporal punishment for the children (and sometimes the wife) is the usual fair. Non-violence is seen as a sign of weakness and domination. Strength is measured by the force of will and might that a man exerts over others, the authority they wield and enforce.

Jesus’ radical non-violence, even to the point of death (even death on a cross) is the exact opposite of what a man is supposed to do when challenged physically. Instead of lashing out, promising vengeance, or struggling to overcome their torment, Jesus entrusts himself to God’s plan in such a way that there is not even a hint of force or violence in his actions or words at his death.

In silence and radical non-violence, Jesus goes through his passion in ways that would be called weak and passive, the opposite of what a man is supposed to be in the patriarchy. Wild At Heart says men need adventure, strength, and wildness to be truly alive. Jesus displays a quiet trust in the security of God’s plan. He didn’t exert the strength of force that we equate with masculinity.

In his soft, passive stance toward the false accusations and violence toward him, Jesus showed us another way, a way of self-emptying of rights and a trust in the justification of God. Jesus was vindicated in the resurrection, showing us that the way of love and peace, not patriarchy and might, is the way approved by God.

In acting so subversively to the patriarchal expectations, Jesus also displays that it is not force, might, and striving to be an “alpha male” that truly conquers. It is peace that wins in the end. Love conquers war simply by not letting war change what love is. No matter what happened to Jesus, he didn’t give up the way of non-violence. In displaying love as unchangeable, the powers of destruction, force, war, violence, and yes patriarchy were disarmed, shown to have no true power because they couldn’t change the nature of love and make Jesus play by their rules.

May more men follow in the non-violent footsteps of Jesus, no matter the cost, to continue with the prophetic proclamation that love has already won.

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