Loving Men Like Men

I suspect everyone by now has seen the piercing video of an army man on a suicide hotline being comforted by a police officer on the side of a busy highway. The clip ends with a humble request for a hug before it cuts away. I have seen it a few times and find the entire scene a dramatic re-enacting of the lack of cohesive bonds of our culture, especially among men.

I wish to briefly address a few themes that must take place within the body of Christ so that such incidents are avoided or, at the very least, learned from. There is too much at stake and the unrelenting attacks on manhood in our day will compel this misery unless God, by the power of the Spirit, reorients our attention to a renewed brotherhood.

The most masculine thing a man can do to strengthen his own Christian walk is to love another man. And I write that last sentence as a testament to authentic masculinity and manhood in every conceivable biblical definition. But the fact that I’ve had to explain myself and even defend myself in the most masculine of terms means that we—of course, us men—are lagging in our pursuit of virtuous manhood.

I suppose there was a time when most men operated under a fundamental assumption about manhood; the tobacco-spitting kind, but also the “poetry is good” kind as well. The confusion around the sexes is so meticulously absurd in our day that we must make sure we act out our inner Napoleon, whether we’re 5’0 or 6’3. That’s a real pity because I long for a time when I can look at a brother and say, “I love you,” and his response is something akin to, “Love you too, bro!” And the two of us go our merry way back to our wives and arrows without much thought of the event.

I attend an institute of the godliest men I know. Most have beards, which is not the entrance ID, but it does communicate our desire to sing imprecations to God’s enemies a lot more man-liny. There is something prophetic a beard communicates; like that time oil dripped down from Aaron’s beard. But I digress. During the passing of the peace, we get up and kiss other men on the cheek. Paul would have been proud (II Cor. 13:12 and many other verses).

In our sanitized culture, a firm handshake will do, but the kind of handshake that leaves a tiny bruise in the inner hand bone; a hug that communicates that we have strategized well and that our strategy is now sealed. Whatever suits you, but please do something.

Men who love other men are the best disciple-makers. They connect theology with emotions. They hear well but also rebuke well. They speak the truth in love, not in some obtuse fashion. Christian men are not bound to the laws of culture, but the biblical (first) and Christian traditions (second).

I have read Paul, Augustine, Bonhoeffer, Eberhard, C.S. Lewis, and my fair share of Tolkien on friendship and love. And the one thing they seem to all have in common is this sense that brotherly love historically makes our modern relationships look pitiful and impoverished.

Out of the many lessons I’ve learned is the lesson that man respect another man whom they know love them as brothers bound by one Lord, one faith, and one baptism. Our definitions promote more isolation instead of more moments of inhabited unity. We do need a richer sacramental theology to reform our relationships in the Church.

Our culture has divorced love from friendship, and our relationships are thin and destitute. David and Jonathan are mere symbols of a by-gone era now hijacked by pro-homosexual causes. Paul and Timothy’s relationship is interpreted as purely professional. The reality is that for those who find this conversation uncomfortable, the lesson is you have strayed from mother church so far that you are content in loneliness. But for those who find this entire conversation at least intriguing, seek to be around other men, and opportunities arise–especially formal opportunities–do what is possible to be there. It’s not your masculinity that is in danger when you absent yourself from other men; it’s your humanity.