Healthy Masculinity: not Patriarchy

A Cultural Moment Worth Pausing For

Let’s talk about masculinity for a minute.

It’s a topic that seems to be everywhere right now, bubbling in public discourse and stirring up conversation across social media. And while it’s tempting to jump into the fray with a hot take, what we really need is a calm, thoughtful, and direct engagement—the kind that invites us to listen, reflect, and perhaps shift our understanding.

This all resurfaced for me after I posted a video about the Lord’s Prayer. Specifically, I talked about Jesus addressing God as "Father"—a beautiful and powerful metaphor for the divine. But I also noted the danger of slipping from that metaphor into thinking that God is a man, or that only masculine images are appropriate when we speak about God.

Predictably, someone showed up in the comments: "A father protects, provides, and needs to be obeyed. The message is clear: mothers don’t protect and provide, fathers do. God is masculine, not feminine."

Scripture Speaks in Metaphor

Now, first things first: that statement is simply untrue.

Scripture gives us both masculine and feminine metaphors for God. Yes, God exhibits characteristics that cultures have historically coded as masculine. But that’s not the full picture. Because we are made in the image of God—male and female—not the other way around.

Remaking God in the image of our idealized version of masculinity? That’s not theology. That’s idolatry.

And even our ideas of masculinity aren’t fixed. What counts as "masculine" shifts over time and across cultures. So when the Bible uses gendered imagery, it’s speaking from a particular time, in a particular place. These aren’t eternal categories—they’re cultural expressions trying to grasp something true about the mystery of God.

Gender, Biology, and Social Scripts

Yes, gender has social and cultural layers. But that doesn’t mean biology plays no role. On average, men are bigger and stronger, with higher levels of testosterone. Those differences help shape expectations, which then get reinforced into social norms. And for better or worse, those norms become the scripts we hand to boys and girls.

Lately, many of those scripts are being rewritten. And for some of us, that’s good news. Because it creates space for people to express themselves honestly—even if that means stepping outside the lines they were handed.

You don’t have to deny human norms to make space for human uniqueness.

When Masculinity Feels Under Siege

But not everyone sees it that way. For many men, this cultural shift has been unsettling. Some feel lost. Others feel attacked. Especially when they hear phrases like "toxic masculinity."

Let’s be clear: toxic masculinity is not a synonym for masculinity. It’s a critique of the ways certain norms harm men and those around them.

So let’s talk about some common markers of masculinity: leading, protecting, providing. What do these mean? And how can we live into them in ways that are healthy, generous, and inclusive?

Leadership Is Not Gendered

Yes, men can lead. But leadership is not the domain of men alone. I work alongside one of the best leaders I’ve ever known, and she happens to be a woman. Leadership is not about gender—it’s about vision, courage, and compassion.

Protection Isn’t Exclusive

Any man who hasn’t witnessed the ferocity of a mother protecting her child simply hasn’t been paying attention. Protection isn’t about strength; it’s about love, commitment, and presence.

Providing Goes Beyond Income

And providing? Look, there are women in our church community—doctors, lawyers, entrepreneurs—who make more money than I ever will. But reducing provision to income alone is such a shallow way to understand care.

If you’re tying up a third of your identity in your bank account, and missing the deeper ways we provide—emotional support, stability, spiritual care—then you’re already missing the point.

A Better Way Forward

So yes, let’s talk about masculinity. Let’s be honest about the roles men often play, and let’s acknowledge when those roles can be beautiful. But let’s also leave room for a bigger vision—one where masculinity isn’t a rigid mold, but a flexible frame that supports the flourishing of all people.

Because when we do that, we don’t just make room for men to be whole.

We start to see God more clearly, too.

Leadership Isn’t a Right. It’s a Responsibility.

One of the big problems I see in the online discourse around the idea that "men should be leaders" is this: a lot of the men making that argument don’t actually understand what leadership means.

There’s an old adage I heard early in my leadership journey: if you want to know if you’re a leader, just look behind you. If no one is there, you’re not leading.

And for a lot of men today, they look behind them and realize that no one is there. And instead of taking responsibility for that, instead of asking the hard questions about why that might be, they reach for someone to blame.

It must be because women don’t want to follow. Or men aren’t respected. Or society is against them. But the truth? The real, hard truth?

You’re not a leader because you haven’t earned that trust.

Leadership Is Earned, Not Entitled

No one owes you their followership just because you’re a man. And real masculinity—the kind that is healthy and whole—doesn’t demand loyalty or deference. It invites trust. It earns credibility.

Leadership, regardless of your gender, is about helping people see a better future and inspiring them to move toward it. That’s it. It applies in the boardroom, in a church, and yes, even in your own home.

No one is a leader just because they get to lead. We grow into leadership by showing up consistently, by learning, by becoming someone others want to follow. And in my experience, the surest way to sabotage that journey is to insist that others obey you.

The Danger of Demanding Authority

This is part of the problem in online spaces today. There’s a lot of noise—a lot of men yelling, "Respect my authority!"

But yelling for respect rarely earns it. In fact, it often ensures that no one will ever see you as someone they want to follow.

If you want to lead in your home, with your spouse, with your kids—start here:

Serve them well.

Over time, build a track record of trust, wisdom, and steadiness.

Earn the right to be followed.

It’s really that simple. We can all be leaders in some aspect of our lives. But leadership never begins with demand. It always starts with service.

Want to Be Respected? Start With Service.

For men who are feeling disrespected, or maybe even just overlooked, here's the invitation:

Pause.

Look at your life. Ask the honest question: have I earned the trust of the people around me?

And then begin again. Serve first. Earn trust. Let leadership grow from that soil.

It won’t be immediate. It won’t be automatic. But it will be real.

And that kind of leadership is always worth following.

The Instinct to Protect

Let’s talk about protecting.

There’s something deeply human—and especially masculine—about wanting to be a protector. To imagine ourselves as strong and capable, as people who use our strength not for dominance but to care for those around us. And that instinct, I think, is a good one. Healthy. Noble, even.

But identifying as a protector isn't the issue. The real question is: what are we protecting, and how?

Beyond "Me and Mine"

Masculine strength, at its best, is directed outward—toward the care of those who need it most. That could certainly include your family, but it doesn't stop there. It must include the oppressed, the marginalized, the overlooked.

Strength exists for the sake of elevation—lifting others up.

Yet, the way we often talk about protection, especially in online discourse, narrows its focus. It becomes about "my family," "my property," "my world." But here’s the problem: your family isn’t property. Your partner, your children—they’re not yours in the sense of ownership. They are yours in terms of relationship, in proximity.

Understanding the Order of Loves

There was a recent resurgence of conversation around the idea of ordo amoris (the "order of loves"), sparked by a politician who misused the term. But the concept itself is meaningful. It reminds us that different relationships come with different levels of obligation.

Yes, I owe more to my children than I do to a stranger—that’s part of being a parent. If I had one morsel of food, I’d give it to my kids before my neighbour. But that doesn’t mean I feed my kids cake while my neighbour starves.

Christianity challenges us to expand our circle of care. Not to shrink it down to "me and mine," but to recognize everyone we meet as neighbour. As deserving of love and protection.

The Problem with Violent Fantasies

There’s also a tendency to equate protection with violence—to imagine ourselves stepping into danger, confronting some nameless threat. And sure, if that moment ever comes, we hope to rise to it.

But if your whole idea of being a protector lives only in a fantasy—if it only makes sense in an imagined moment of danger—then no wonder you feel unfulfilled. Because for most of us, those moments never come.

And still, the need for protection is everywhere.

Everyday Strength

You can protect people in ordinary ways, every single day.

By calling out an insensitive joke. By making sure your kids are playing outside, not just glued to screens. By paying attention to the people in your community who haven’t been afforded the same opportunities you have.

And then—by advocating for them.

Owning a gun doesn’t make you a protector.

Living a life that elevates the vulnerable, that stands with the marginalized, that shows up again and again—that is strength worth aspiring to.

And that’s a protection I can get behind.

More Than a Paycheck

One of the great disservices we’ve done to ourselves is to tie the idea of being a provider solely to our bank account. Especially for men, this narrow view flattens the rich, textured meaning of provision into a single data point—how much money we make.

Of course, earning matters. Scripture reminds us that working to sustain ourselves and those we love is part of a meaningful life. But that reminder isn't a universal condemnation. Our worth is not rooted in productivity, and many people have valid, even holy reasons for not working in traditional ways. That does not diminish anyone’s humanity, let alone their masculinity.

Still, for many of us—especially men—there's something deeply affirming about work that feels purposeful. We may not all find nobility in our job descriptions, but when our work enables us to care well for others, it becomes sacred. Providing a stable, healthy, loving environment is not just meaningful—it is noble.

The Intangible Gift

Work is good. Pride in your work is good. Being compensated fairly is good. But when our entire identity hinges on being "the provider," it can take us to unhealthy places.

Provision is not just about dollars and cents. I provide for my kids when I pay the mortgage. But I also provide when I come home with enough left in the tank to be present—to hug, to play, to help with homework, to ride bikes.

We live a modest life. Four of us in a house under 1,000 square feet. An old car. No avalanche of toys. But this isn’t about scarcity. It’s about the real treasures we offer one another: time, presence, support, love.

Over a lifetime, what I will provide my kids will lean hard toward the intangible.

Provision as Context

To provide means to create the context where those around us can thrive.

That might look like supporting a spouse in their dreams. In our home, both my wife and I pursued master’s degrees in different seasons. We provided for each other—yes, with money, but more so through conversation, listening, shared planning, and commitment.

You could have all the wealth in the world and still fail to provide a healthy, open environment where your people feel safe to dream aloud.

Writing a check is not enough. Provision is about creating space for flourishing.

The Broader Invitation

This is where our cultural conversation has broken down. Men are discouraged—not because they are toxic, but because we've tangled criticism of toxic expressions of masculinity with the idea of masculinity itself.

That confusion has left many men floundering, reaching back toward a version of masculinity that’s more caricature than calling.

But here's the truth: you don't become a leader because you're a man. You earn that through service. You're not a protector because you own a gun. You become one by showing up for those with less power. You're not a provider because you insist women stay home. You become one by attuning to the needs of those around you and helping build the space where those needs can be met.

Walking the Talk

I know the critiques. I hear them in comment sections. Accusations that I'm avoiding "the clear role of men as patriarchs." But here's my story:

I’ve adopted two children, helping protect them from very different futures. I've been married for 24 years in a partnership of mutual care. I lead a large urban church with a vision for community and growth. And I do all that without commanding or demanding.

If young men are leaving the church, it's not because they're being asked to reject masculinity. It's because they're being offered a parody of manhood that doesn't reflect the Jesus they want to follow.

The problem isn't masculinity. It's the caricature we've mistaken for the real thing.

We can do better. Let's start by expanding what it really means to provide.