Masculinity and The Way of The Cross

I’m surprised by the number of prominent people—mostly men—who seem terrified by what they call the “feminization” of masculinity, and who are determined to reassert a patriarchal, domineering, Hollywood version of aggressive manhood. Frankly, it’s a sign of deep-seated insecurity—a wimpy sort of masculinity in spite of all the chest-thumping bravado. More discouraging are men who believe Christianity is too feminine. They clearly know little of scripture or the history of our faith. What are they afraid of? Being seen as weak if they follow in the way of Jesus?

Particularly troubling are the men who claim to be Christian but lack the courage to follow Jesus in the way of the cross. As the letter of James proclaims, that way is faith in action. Jesus, fulfilling the words of the prophets, explained it plainly to his followers; when they didn’t understand, he broke it down into the simplest, most concrete terms: feed the hungry, clothe the naked, house the homeless, heal the sick, treat the stranger as a brother, put God’s justice before Caesar’s, and stand firm when faced with threats and enemies of peace and reconciliation. To paraphrase James: don’t tell me you believe—prove it by the way you live.

Looking back at American leaders over the last century, the most admirable models of masculinity have not always been Christians and some expressed no particular religious belief. Yet each, in their own way, has followed the way of the cross. Since many men believe the “warrior spirit” is essential to masculinity, consider a few who bore arms without glorifying war.

Some were warriors defending their people against invaders and threats of cultural annihilation: leaders such as Red Cloud, Sitting Bull, Geronimo, Crazy Horse, and Chief Joseph, along with others less well remembered. To them I would add Admiral Nimitz, Admiral Spruance, General Bradley, General Eisenhower, and others who did the work required of them without celebrating war as glorious or indulging in self-serving chest-thumping. Their reputations have endured, while others—more celebrated in their day—have seen theirs greatly diminished.

There is also the equally important work of building a just society. Models of courage in that field include Martin Luther King Jr. and John Lewis. Lyndon Johnson, at his best, belongs there too—though like a Greek tragic hero, he was often his own worst enemy. Colin Powell is another example; like every human being he had flaws, but unlike most, his were displayed in public. He faced them with courage, accepted responsibility, and continued to speak with strength for a better society.

I have more difficulty naming public religious leaders who truly embody Christian masculinity, because the best examples I know are not nationally famous. My childhood pastor, Joyce Ranum, kept the Word of God alive for soldiers on the front lines in World War II and made it come alive for kids like me in the 1950s. Father Ernie Campbell introduced hundreds of youth to God’s Word while teaching wilderness canoeing, mountain climbing, horseback riding, and skiing. Pastor Chuck Hindman put his mind and back into resolving the needs of the homeless in a small city. Bishop Michael Curry boldly proclaimed the way of love, challenging the complacency of a global audience. There are dozens more—perhaps you can name some from your own life. But when I consider the religious leaders who have dominated the nation’s public attention for decades, I find little evidence that they have the courage to follow in the way of the cross, despite their popularity and influence.

Is Jesus an exemplar of masculinity? No. He is the exemplar of what it means to be human. As it is written: “There is no longer Jew or Greek, there is no longer slave or free, there is no longer male and female; for all of you are one in Christ Jesus” (Galatians 3). Jesus is the standard for what it means to be righteous, courageous, trustworthy, and just. He is the measure against which all claims of masculinity must ultimately be tested.