In his book The Message of the New Testament (Crossway 2005) Mark Dever, senior pastor of Capitol Hill Baptist Church (full disclosure: I’m a member here and love it), helps us see how in the Gospel of Luke we encounter a Jesus whose manliness is expressed in a special concern for the vulnerable: namely, women and children. This is striking because it runs counter to the popular image of a “man’s man” who is usually surrounded by other “manly” (I use quotes not because I don’t believe men can be manly, but because the way manliness is often portrayed is so superficial) men and concerned with “more important” things than those affecting women and children. Keeping in mind that in Jesus the fullness of God was made manifest (Colossians 1:19), Jesus’s manliness is also a good reminder that women and children are of great importance to God, and that if they are not to us, then that is to our shame.
“Jesus did give much time to discipling men. Yet Luke’s Gospel shows he had great compassion and concern for women as well. To see this, consider first Luke’s attention to Jesus’s infancy and youth. He recounts the celebration shared by the two pregnant mothers, Mary and Elizabeth, as well as Mary’s song of praise following the angel’s amazing announcement. It is also hard to miss the fact that John the Baptist’s mother, Elizabeth, appears to have had more faith than his father, Zechariah. Mary’s faith is evident as well in her song of jubilation. She trusted and believed.
“…Chapter 10 highlights Mary and Martha’s friendship with Jesus. As Martha busied herself with meal preparations and Mary sat and listened to Jesus’s teaching, Jesus invited Martha to give attention to his teaching as well (10:38-42). Of course, inviting a woman to sit and learn was a radical idea in those days.
“…All told, Luke refers to more women than any other Gospel. This might reflect something about Luke, but it also reveals something of what Jesus considered important” (85-86).
Simply put, “Jesus taught and exemplified love and benevolence toward women when too often they had been ignored or abused in the name of religion” (87).
Jesus also showed a “special awareness of children”: “He healed children (8:41-42, 51-55). He said they should be welcomed (9:47-48). He described them as recipients of God’s grace in understanding (10:21). He even rebuked his disciples for keeping the children from him, and then pointed to them as models of trust (18:17; cf. 17:2).
“What other religious leader has been concerned with children? Perhaps you are a Buddhist or a Muslim, and you know of such stories involving Buddha or Muhammad. But I have not yet seen them, and I have looked for them. Jesus seems to have been unusual in his attitude towards children” (87).
In The Meaning of Marriage (Dutton, 2011), Tim Kellers cites an excellent New York Times article by Sara Lipton (above), professor of history at SUNY Stony Brook. In it, she compares today’s sexually rogue men – men like Schwarzenegger, Spitzer, and Weiner – to the “manly men of yore,” for whom the ability to rule oneself, both for the good of their families and their societies, was one of the key measures of a man.
Writing of the Schwarzeneggers and Weiners of our day, Lipton claims: “In every case, they had resisted the traditional purposes of marriage: to change their natural instincts, to reign in passions, to learn denial of one’s own desires, and to serve others.”
Keller then writes: “The conventional explanation for this is that marriage simply doesn’t fit the male nature…that ‘a need for sexual conquest, female adulation, and illicit and risky liaisons seems to go along with drive, ambition, and confidence in the “alpha male.”‘ But Lipton argues that marriage was traditionally a place where males became truly masculine: ‘For most of Western history, the primary and most valued characteristic of manhood was self-mastery…. A man who indulged in excessive eating, drinking, sleeping or sex – who failed to “rule himself” – was considered unfit to rule his household, much less a polity…'” (32)
On a personal note, I’ve already seen these insights come to life in our six months of marriage. For example, I’m more motivated (and often reminded) to do things around the house, such as washing dishes, or taking out the trash, or vacuuming and tidying up before guests. I know I wouldn’t do the same things were I living on my own, and certainly I wouldn’t be cooking delicious meals for myself like my wonderful wife does for us. In large part because of doing life with her, I’m more disciplined and on a daily basis aware that my “personal” time isn’t necessarily “Javi” time. It also helps, however, to have an awesome wife who encourages me and lovingly challenges me to be a better man every day. I pray that by grace and with much love this continues for many years, trusting that though difficult seasons will come, they won’t prevail. Thank you, mi amor – you know who you are!
Yesterday, on Christmas, my wife gave me more evidence for why marrying her was the best decision of my life: she gave me the book Seven Men: And the Secret of Their Greatness (Thomas Nelson, 2013), written by Eric Metaxas, the same man who gave us the excellent Amazing Grace: William Wilberforce and the Heroic Campaign to End Slavery and Bonhoeffer: Pastor, Martyr, Prophet, Spy. I’ve already thrown myself into this delightful book, meaning there are more posts about it to come, but I wanted to waste no time in sharing this wonderful insight about fatherhood and the calling of true manhood. As someone whose biological father went missing in action early on in my life but who has received a hundred-fold and more in my heavenly Father and good men who have modeled true, servant manliness to me, this passage resonated with particular force:
“There is something vital in the idea of fatherhood and it gives us a clue to the secret of a great man. But we have to point out that a man needn’t be an actual father to bear the traits of every good father. Two of the men in this book, Dietrich Bonhoeffer and John Paul II, never married or had children. Even George Washington, who married, never had children of his own. And yet we Americans call him the father of our country. And in the case of Pope John Paul II, the root word from which we get ‘pope’ is papa – father. Being a father is not a biological thing. If we think of the fatherhood of God, we get a picture of someone who is strong and loving and who sacrifices himself for those he loves. That’s a picture of real fatherhood and real manhood” (from the introduction, xviii).