Masculine Role Models in the Church

Who comes to mind as a model of Christian Masculinity? 

Jesus is an obvious candidate, but what about Gandalf?


Greg Morse seems to think so. In addition, Aslan from the Chronicles of Narnia, and a chivalrous knight of Camelot make his list.

Last time, I disagreed with Morse’s handling of the Captain Marvel movie and feminism. This time, my beef is with his reliance on extra-biblical fiction as a source of inspiration for morality. He also has misread scripture in support of his own vision of masculinity.

He certainly isn’t alone in wanting to restore masculinity in the church to prominence; for a while, I sympathized with this position. I found the ’90’s and 2000’s a particularly difficult time in Christian circles, where I was encouraged to be emotionally demonstrative: to lift my hands, sway, or dance in worship. To sing that chorus one (or fifteen) more times and lose myself in the feelings.

There was nothing tough or galvanizing about tapping into my feelings, I thought. I wanted to connect to some grand spiritual adventure, and this wasn’t it.

When I saw Gladiator where Maximus defies a tyrannical emperor and is rewarded with Elysium, my heart soared. When I watched The Matrix about a pasty white hacker who breaks out of a rut, transcends the computer system that keeps him and everyone else oppressed, and rises from the dead–I was hooked. These fictional “saviors” (as they are explicitly called in their respective stories) gave me a template that made the Christian spiritual life seem thrilling, even if that’s not the intention of the creators of the films, per se.

The pull of this metanarrative (an overarching story that provides meaning) is profound: men aren’t tangential, but central to a divinely ordered cosmos, and our dearest fictions reflect this belief. Listen to Owen Strachan, a man who has taken issue with Beth Moore as of late, regarding the role of women in church leadership: 

“There is physical order in the cosmos; there is also social order, and spiritual order. There are things that are right based on God’s creative design, and there are things that are wrong. It is right for men to lead their homes, and put their lives on the line when their family members are endangered, and work hard to be the financial pillar of their loved ones. It is right for women to be distinctively feminine, bear and raise children as God allows, submit to and support their husbands per 1 Peter 3, and serve their churches in ways that use their gifts.”

There’s a whole chain of being, from God Almighty to the man, to the women and children. I’m not so confident that God actually calls men to be a financial pillar, as much as a sacrificial provider for the family. Our culture traditionally envisions the man as breadwinner, but it is surely cultural expectations that would confine our imagination of masculinity and femininity to roles that so closely reflect culture. We must ask ourselves whether the stories we tell are as objective as we think, or whether there is unexamined cultural baggage along for the ride.

Literature as a Moral Text 

Now, literature is a fine place to turn for admirable character traits and (masculine) role models, generally. But, it is not scripture. 

Lewis may envision a Lion who is “not safe, but good,” but that’s not enough to argue that we should be the same, as Morse seems to: “Endangered is that species of lionhearted masculinity that bears Aslan’s description: ‘not safe, but good.'”

Aslan and Gandalf are both fictional Christ figures, and supernatural entities (Aslan is Narnia’s God, Gandalf, an angelic being).  

Are such otherworldly beings helpful in our quest for biblical manhood, given that we and they are different in essence from these fictional beings? 

I rather suspect we could learn more from the Pevensie children and hobbits in their respective stories. Sam carrying Frodo or Peter fighting for his family against all odds are closer to our experience.

In any case, better to begin any search for Christian masculinity in the bible, not extra-biblical expressions of masculinity.

Morse’s Code

Morse outlines his vision of masculinity in more detail in his “Not Safe, But Good” article, here:

“Our present ideals, like the ones I once held, do not require goodness to make men safe, because they ensure that men are safe regardless of goodness. The man reborn in this image says nothing uncomfortable, rallies no charge, and shows little, if any, initiative. He is goaded to be convictionless, passionless, perhaps even Christless, if but subdued.”

A men’s retreat seeks to reinvigorate masculinity, by encouraging us to “Act like Men.”

In addition to worship, and teaching, men wrestled in mud, had athletic competitions, knighted their sons, didn’t shower or always wear shirts, and burned up papers with our secret sins on them. What should masculinity look like in the church?

Are men no longer lion-hearted? Have we virtually emasculated them in the church so they fit a purported feminine ideal of sharing emotions, being caring, sitting or standing still for long periods of time, being moved by the music, and so on?

If so, do they have to be somehow made dangerous again to be good? 

The Danger Zone

I see no biblical reason why men must be dangerous: Saul attacking David with a spear was dangerous. David playing the harp was soothing. Sure, David killed a lion, but he also composed emotional poetry and music. 

David” sculpture with sling at the ready, by Bernini, showcases the aggressive–almost defiant–side of the character

But, that’s not the “man after God’s heart” virtue the Bible highlights.

Morse stands up for an ideal of Christian manhood that is somehow tougher, less feminine. This reminds me of Nietzsche’s criticisms of Christianity, that it is a morality of weakness (“slavery”) that seeks revenge on the strong, self-confident, and vital people it envies, and denies life by promoting dying to self and desires.

Can we be strong and still embrace Christianity? Morse views it as a prerequisite: “A tiger, not a kitten, can exhibit gentleness because he is first strong.”

Again, Morse reasons: “Kindness, self-control, compassion flavor [a Christian man’s] strength, courage, determination — not eclipse them.” 

But, isn’t this adding virtues to the list of the “fruit of the Spirit?” Even more: it creates a hierarchy where strength, courage, and determination are fundamental.

Killing, Mocking, and Punishing as Masculine Models

Along these lines, Morse celebrates Phineas “the Negro,” killing what he interprets as two sinful lovers (although the woman seemed to be taken from Midian, not clearly by her will in Numbers 25:6-13; perhaps the sin was more that of the aggressive man violating a prohibition on taking from other peoples). 

Morse also cheers when Moses makes the people drink the melted golden calf. He lauds the mocking of the prophets of Baal and their god. 

Morse also praises Paul’s resilience in the face of beatings. This latter case seems a different manner of courage than mockery, violent confrontation, or force. Indeed, Paul gave up that life of violent zeal for God when confronted by Jesus in a vision.

Two Modes of Masculinity 

There’s a saying in fiction writing that the hero is only as good as the villain is evil. If you detain a petty thief in the grocery store, that’s good. But if you stop a tyrant or murderous psychopath, it speaks more to your heroic qualities. 

I feel Morse is led astray, perhaps, by the allure of defeating great fleshly opponents, while overlooking that the battle is spiritual and often unseen. 

Morse characterizes the heroes of the faith as “men who actively sought for glory, honor, and immortality.”

Would such men say with the firebrand, John the Baptist, “He must increase, but I must decrease” (John 3:30)? Men of God with glory don’t seek it, but seek to direct the attention to God.

Would such men, seeking after their own glory, acknowledge that: “We do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places” or not?

A physical villain is tangible and impressive to belittle, displace, or defeat. We can cheer when our political views are personified in a politician who defeats their (and our political) rival, but do we focus on the spiritual side of things, or simply celebrate this-worldly milestones? 

Led Astray

I have to say, I’ve never felt more stereotypically masculine than when running a 5k in the cold, my wife and kids cheering me on. I had trained my body for months for the event, and now it was time to see what I was made of. 

Morse and I agree on one thing: in a vacuum of opportunity, men will seek fulfillment outside of the church. In sports, stocks, sex, drinking–something that promises adventure.

My running stats gave me an outlet to feel accomplished.

But, the solution may not be for church to imitate those things. Too often, I’ve been promised that union with God rivals sexual climax (from the pulpit,  no less!), is exciting like athletics or outdoorsmanship, is not for the faint of heart, as if I’m going to kill some wild animals instead of pray.

Morse says, “Lukewarm religion, let’s never forget, makes for lukewarm masculinity. And lukewarm masculinity allows too many men to pass by church doors in favor of Islam, Jordan Peterson, or simply ESPN on the road to destruction.” 

But lukewarm religion is religion that attempts to provide a spark that I can clearly derive from somewhere else. As C.S. Lewis said: “I didn’t go to religion to make me happy. I always knew a bottle of Port would do that. If you want a religion to make you feel really comfortable, I certainly don’t recommend Christianity.”

I fear we offer a lukewarm version of Christianity, too, when we drag historical or fictitious masculinities into the church as analogs to Christian ideas.

I can play a video game to get the rush of being a hero, or dust off Gladiator. 

What I really want as a man in the church is to feel that what I do when no one is looking matters–whether I toil alone and in private at raising kids without provoking them to wrath, or if I’m diligent in the workplace. 

There’s nothing glamorous about grading another paper or potty training my son, but knowing it matters how I do mundane things makes the difference for me. I want my whole life to count, not just the peak moments where I’m visibly leading or where I get to show my strength as a man by fighting for my family against the elements or other dangers.

I can revisit gender roles in another post, but the church has to do more than offer rehashed cultural norms with a veneer of religion, or I and other men will happily run another 5k, have another beer, or whatever floats their boat. To paraphrase Nietzsche: “Everyone wants to tell me what they’re free from. What does that matter?! What are you free for?”

I believe Christianity has a compelling answer, but it is in danger of getting lost in translation.

I fear we offer a lukewarm version of Christianity when we drag fictitious masculinities into the church as analogs to Christian ideas. The church has to do more than offer rehashed cultural norms with a veneer of religion. Click To Tweet