Unvarnished Masculinity Amidst a Clean-Shaven Eschatology

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Our friendly neighborhood toleristas have come full throttle in their advancement of Egalitarian Unisexism. Gender differences are not only oppressive to them but are in opposition to the fabric of the society they are trying to weave. Try as they might, but instead of a diverse and beautiful tapestry, they have a bunch of bland threads in a pile. To switch metaphors, our effeminate culture is not 30 feet away from the cliff flooring the pedal towards the edge anymore. They flew off the side some time ago. They’re now 30 feet away from the jagged-rock bottom plummeting helplessly, about to splat. Yet even so, they still have the nerve to keep their fist shaking in the air as they fall to the abyss, blaming Heaven for the oppressive gravity restricting their right to soar. If it wasn’t so painful to watch, it’d be amusing.

The utopian (or is it dystopian? Perhaps dysutopian) The dysutopian future of genderless egalitarianism has a stark and explicit stumbling block standing directly in its way – the unvarnished masculine identity of our Maker. This timeless stone was not placed in anybody’s way but has been in place long before any outrage erupted. Like the ancient base of a mountain in the way of some newcomer settlers, the immovable masculinity of God the Father is what it is. The mountain was there long before the settlers pioneered their way up to it. Even long before that was the masculinity of God.

Stubbing their toe on it one too many times, our weaver-wannabes have decided that the Stone is why their tapestry is in shatters. The unapologetic manliness of our Lord is in the way of their clean-shaven eschatology. They can’t get rid of it, but perhaps they can ignore it, reject it, and condemn it long enough until the only reason masculinity is brought to light, if at all, is to apologize for its manifestation. In seeking what to attack in order to halt the sound of the rumbling contrabass of God’s voice, or stop the untamable wildness of His demeanor, one of the clearest images of God’s masculine nature is the obvious target.

Men.

Any expression of masculinity is an assault on the modern secular project. And so, it must all go. In our culture, men are conditioned to walk on eggshells and feel guilty about the hair on their chests. If little boys are rowdy and can’t sit still, they are derided, shamed, and drugged. Roughness is a nuisance to extract. Wild outbursts are a sickness to cure. If they could, they’d call an exorcist on the never-ending energy levels of 6-year-old boys.

Those boys who make it through puberty without their spirits killed and their tail between their legs are lambasted as a disruption to society. Toxic Masculinity is not just a name for certain expressions of masculinity. All masculine expressions are labeled toxic and harmful. Men are gross, obnoxious, loud, arrogant jerks. Don’t get me started on explaining to you the toxicity of mansplaining. I wouldn’t be allowed to even if I wanted to. I’m a man, for crying out loud! That’s our culture for you.

The modern evangelic church is at best worse, and at worst, really bad. Skin-tight skinny jeans really do create eunuchs for God. I mean there’s no room in there for anything. Polos tucked into pressed cache pants weren’t getting the intended results, so the reinforcements came out. If them tight pants don’t do the trick, then cutting holes in them seem to make cutting anything else off the men unnecessary.

High-ranking pulpits and blogs shame men when they project too much testosterone, massaging them to live from an effeminate position. Some may dismiss this point as a straw man, but it’s actually everywhere if we can just see it. For one, there’s the untouchable doctrine of the Niceness of God. Being an offensive Christian is somehow an oxymoron, even though the One we got our title from was killed for being offensive. Niceness has graduated from well-mannered behavior in a public setting to evidence of salvation. In the name of effective witness, we have excommunicated every tone passed level 2 on the harsh-o-meter.

Sometimes the neutering of the male Christian is more subtle, done in the name of “taking responsibility.” Men are guilted into thinking that if they don’t help their wives in the kitchen when they come home from work, and don’t do the dishes after dinner, then they are abdicating their responsibility. In reality, that’s a false dichotomy. To be honest, at our home, it’s rare that I do the dishes, help with dinner, or fold the laundry (just ask my lovely wife), but that’s not because I’m sitting on the couch with the sandwich she made for me. (I actually eat the sandwich in my armchair. She makes really good ones!)

How could I be so demeaning? Don’t I love my wife? Well, being the lord of the manor means something very different than asking my wife how I can help. No, my wife doesn’t call me lord. She runs our estate, makes decisions in home-management, and trains our children better than most managers I’ve seen can maintain their operation. I’ve been truly impressed. I mostly don’t get a chance to help too much “around the house” because she’s holding it all together while I’m hustling to and fro, you know, “out on business.” (Clichés are great for poking hives.) To be clear, it’s not wrong for a man to help his wife. It’s all his responsibility anyway. But leading and supporting are, in fact, different roles.

Where our culture derides men for their performance, and our churches shame them for their lack of it, our God seems to have a different starting point. The Maker of Heaven and Earth, the Almighty, the One with the Voice like the Roar of Many Waters, calls men His glory. Men are the glory of the Creator, the glory of the original Man of War. Masculine identity is not something to tame, apologize for, or be ashamed of. It is the image and glory of God.

I have the high privilege (being the lord of the manor and all) of tucking my sons into bed almost every night. Before singing and closing the door, I get to remind both of them every night that I love them, that I am thankful for them, and that they make me happy. Every now and then, when I think the reminder is necessary, I tell one or the other or both to never forget that they are wild and dangerous men, because our God is a wild and dangerous God, and they are His image and His glory.

It is this glory that we as men have forsaken and fallen short of. I do every day. The culture might deride and shame men under the wrong standard, but that doesn’t mean that we don’t deserve derision and shame. Our sin is against our Maker, and usually it’s for abdicating our role, not for leaning into it too much. However, instead of the derision and shame that we justly deserved, that Man of War, the One who demonstrates His masculinity by taking responsibility for His own, gives us not shame but confidence before His throne of grace. Through His grace, men can confidently resemble their Maker by leaning into their masculinity, to live not out of a tame mediocrity, but a wild glory.

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