Jesus: Paragon of Masculinity or Humanity?

Jesus is the paragon of humanity, not masculinity. His characteristics — mission, boldness, obedience, self-sacrifice, authority — are not masculine traits that women must imitate across a gender divide. They are human traits, displayed by the one human whose life, death, and resurrection reveal what it means to be fully surrendered to God.

Key Takeaways

Dale Partridge’s The Manliness of Christ makes the representative error. Partridge associates Jesus’s mission, boldness, obedience, sacrificial love, and authority not with messianic status (Matt 4:1–11; Heb 5:8) but with “potent masculinity.” The result is that cultural masculinity gets smuggled into Christology and then recommended back to men as imitation-worthy.

Jesus’s work as tekton (Mk 6:3; Matt 13:55) tells us about the cultural organization of labor, not about a masculine essence. Women in first-century Palestine carried water, worked in agriculture, ground grain, and produced textiles. Physical strength and demanding work were not exclusively male experiences in that world.

Authority is not a masculine attribute in Jesus. Drawing on Christa L. McKirland’s A Theology of Authority, Jesus exercises both executive authority (the power to command) and non-executive authority (the power to influence belief and inspire imitation). Revelation 2:26–27 extends “authority over the nations” to the whole faithful church. Nothing in the distribution of authority hangs on biological sex.

The Old Testament narrative does the same thing. Jacob the tent-dweller and Esau the hunter (Gen 25:27; 27:11) are narrative contrasts that drive the plot, not competing masculinities. David’s lyre-playing (1 Sam 16:14–23) and his decapitation of Goliath (1 Sam 17:49–51) both serve to connect David to God in contrast to Saul, not to stage a masculine/feminine polarity.

Mk 6:3; Matt 13:55; Matt 26:39

Jn 11:35; 13:1–17; Mk 10:13–16

Matt 4:1–11; Matt 9:1–7; Heb 5:8

Rev 2:26–27

Heb 11 (hall of faith)

Gen 25:27; 27:11, 41–45

Dale Partridge, The Manliness of Christ

Christa L. McKirland, A Theology of Authority

Is Jesus the Paragon of Masculinity or the Paragon of Humanity?

In a 2022 article, Partridge writes:

“Jesus was a man—conceived by a virgin, born biologically male, raised by a carpenter, a boy wise beyond his years (Luke 2:41-52), fully divine (John 1:1), and potently masculine. In fact, if you hate masculinity you will despise the biblical Jesus. He wasn’t interested in “getting to know His feminine side” nor was He the macho and chauvinistic domineer that some failing men have become. Jesus was the epitome of manhood—a stalwart in mission, bold, obedient to the point of death, fearless in His proclamation of truth, sacrificial in His acts of love, and resolved to do His Father’s will. Jesus had force, authority, and control in a way that marked Him as virile and robust.”

Partridge’s characterization is partially correct. Jesus was male, born of a virgin. He worked as a carpenter (tekton) before his ministry began (Mk 6:3; Matt 13:55). He wasn’t domineering or arrogant but walked with the Lord and found his confidence there. He didn’t project bravado. He had a clear sense of his mission and remained steadfast in the Father’s will even when it cost him personally (Matt 26:39). He taught with authority (Mk 1:27; Lk 4:36). None of that is in dispute. The trouble is that Partridge associates all of these characteristics with Jesus’s masculinity rather than with his messianic status as Son of God (Matt 4:1-11; Heb 5:8). That is where the argument moves away from the biblical text and toward a cultural notion of masculinity.

That Jesus was male is not a trivial observation. The incarnation was particular—God became flesh not as a generic human but as a first-century Jewish man. Jesus navigated the world with a male body, within a patriarchal culture, in a specific time and place. His maleness conditioned his experience in ways we shouldn’t minimize. What we should resist is the further claim that his maleness made him masculine in the cultural sense—that it encoded in him a set of traits and dispositions that are specifically male rather than simply human. Being male and embodying a cultural script of masculinity are not the same thing and conflating them is precisely the move Partridge makes.

Why Doesn’t Jesus’s Work as a Tekton Define Christian Masculinity?

Being a tekton was physically demanding work, and it was male-dominated in Jesus’s social world. But we should be careful about what conclusions we draw from that. Women in first-century Palestine were not sheltered from physical labor — they carried water, worked in agriculture, ground grain, produced textiles. Physical strength and demanding work were not exclusively male experiences. The social conventions of Jesus’s day assigned certain kinds of labor to men and others to women, but those conventions don’t retroactively define masculinity. They tell us about the cultural organization of work, not about some essential masculine quality that carpentry expressed. That Jesus worked as a tekton tells us he was an embodied, working male in a particular culture — not that he was masculine in any theologically significant sense.

It is fair to say that Jesus did not project the sort of false bravado that too often characterizes masculinity. But the more interesting question is why. It is misleading to frame Jesus’s confidence as a personality trait or a masculine disposition. His authority was given to him by God and rooted in his identity (Matt 9:1-7). He knew who he was. That knowledge gave him the freedom to wash feet (Jn 13:1-17), to weep at the death of a friend (Jn 11:35), to welcome children when his disciples thought he had better things to do (Mk 10:13-16), and to submit to crucifixion when every cultural script available to him said that was defeat. None of those things should be described as “masculine.” That language, which Partridge uses, sums up these characteristics under a cultural rather than a theological concept. In so doing, it skews our understanding of Jesus, making him look suspiciously like our pre-conceived ideas of masculinity. He conforms to us when we are supposed to conform to him.

Are Jesus’s Virtues “Masculine” or Simply Human?

Partridge is right to describe Jesus as “a stalwart in mission, bold, obedient to the point of death, fearless in His proclamation of truth, sacrificial in His acts of love, and resolved to do His Father’s will.” Partridge also colors these characteristics by using words like “virile,” “potently masculine,” and “robust.” It isn’t at all clear, however, that these characteristics of Jesus should be limited to males by suggesting that they make Jesus masculine. Are female disciples of Christ to avoid being “a stalwart in mission”? Should they not be “bold” or willing to die rather than compromising their faith? Should women not fearlessly proclaim the truth or to love sacrificially?

Partridge also notes that Jesus “had force, authority, and control.” It isn’t clear just what Partridge means by “force,” so I’ll leave it aside. Jesus’ authority was clear. He taught and spoke with authority (Mk 1:27; Lk 4:36). He is also recognized as one who is in authority (Matt 8:9; 9:6; Lk 7:8). Jesus delegates authority to others (Mk 6:7; Matt 10:1). He is also given “all authority in heaven and on earth” (Matt 28:18). Jesus has a unique authority unrelated to his sex.

To borrow terminology from Christa L. McKirland’s A Theology of Authority, Jesus has (1) executive authority that involves the “power to command obedience and enforce consequences if disobeyed” and (2) non-executive authority that involves “the power to influence belief and inspire imitation.” While being male may have been coincidental to both forms of authority, it is difficult to demonstrate that maleness was essential to Jesus’s authority. He possesses both sorts of authority and is male; however, that does not necessarily entail that only males could exhibit certain aspects of Jesus’s authority.

Though the issue of male and female roles and, thus, authority in the church continues to be hotly debated, the distribution of authority does not seem to matter in the end. For instance, Revelation 2:26-27 ties “authority over the nations” with uncompromising faith. While written with a male pronoun (2:26), it seems clear that the whole church is in view. In the end, it would seem that authority will be granted to those who remains faithful regardless of sex.

If we can’t distinguish masculine characteristics from faithfulness in the life of Jesus, can we do it with other characters? The honest answer is that the narrative accounts of men in Scripture don’t seem particularly interested in masculinity as a category. What they are interested in is faithfulness or a lack thereof. Consider the so-called hall of faith in Hebrews 11. Sarah (Heb 11:11) and Rahab (11:31) appear alongside Abel (11:4) and Abraham (11:8), evaluated by the same standard regardless of sex. They are also put forward as models of faithfulness to the whole community. The author does not tell the men to focus on Abel and Abraham and the women on Sarah and Rahab. These are simply faithful people.

While examining every male in scripture would require a much longer study, we can look at a few different instances that may help clarify these matters. First, think about the descriptions of Jacob and Esau. Esau was a “skillful hunter,” whereas Jacob “was a quiet man, dwelling in tents” (Gen 25:27). Esau was hairy, whereas Jacob was smooth (27:11). After Jacob receives the blessing from Isaac, it seems clear that Esau poses a physical threat to Jacob (27:41-45; 33:1-3). Does any of this make Esau manlier than Jacob? That depends on one’s cultural understanding.

The narrative isn’t commenting on Esau’s masculinity or Jacob’s femininity. Instead, it is providing specific characteristics that are intended to drive the narrative. The game Esau provides comes into play when Rebecca prompts Jacob to go to Isaac for a blessing (27:1-4, 14, 17; cf. 25:29-34), as does Esau’s hair (27:11-12, 15-16). Esau’s strength is the impetus for Jacob to travel to Laban. On the way, God reveals himself to Jacob reaffirming the blessing of Isaac (27:26-29) and aligning with the word given to Rebecca while the twins were yet to be born (24:60). We may consider Esau “more masculine” than Jacob, but that isn’t coming from the text.

But are these references intending to present David as a manly man who is in touch with his feminine side? Unlikely. Again, these elements seem to be driving the narrative forward. Saul needs someone to sooth the harmful spirit, and one of Saul’s servants happens to know that David, who was just anointed king, “is skillful in playing” (16:18). David’s ability to play the lyre sets up an initial contrast between Saul, who is the current but rejected king, and David, who is the Lord’s anointed but still in waiting. David’s playing sooth’s the spirit that is “from God” (16:15), suggesting the connection between God and David and highlighting the disconnection between God and Saul.

The David and Goliath narrative underscores this contrast. Saul is unwilling to face Goliath, opting to offer a reward to entice someone else to fight the giant. David, in contrast, sees Goliath mocking God and his people and is willing to face him. David’s prior experience of the Lord’s deliverance gives him the confidence to set aside Saul’s armor, which also underscores the idea that God gives David the victory.

Both of these examples underscore a simple point: the Bible isn’t portraying male characters to map out a biblical notion of masculinity, but to demonstrate the unassailable logic of faithfulness. The Bible does not seem to be concerned with some ideal vision of manhood so much as it is concerned about how we relate to God and one another.

The question the title poses has a straightforward answer: Jesus is not the paragon of masculinity but of humanity. His characteristics — mission, boldness, obedience, self-sacrifice, authority — are not masculine traits that women must awkwardly imitate across a gender divide. They are human traits, displayed by the one human whose life, death, and resurrection reveal what it means to be fully surrendered to God. The Bible’s consistent witness, from the hall of faith in Hebrews 11 to the narratives of Jacob and David, is not that men should be masculine and women feminine, but that all of God’s people should be faithful. That faithfulness will look different for males and females in different times and places — conditioned by sex, by role, by culture. But it is measured by the same standard, and it is formed by the same means: learning to live under the authority of the one who is not merely the ideal man, but the ideal human.

About the Author

James Spencer, PhD, is a theologian, author, and host of the Thinking Christian podcast, where he writes and speaks on Christian formation, political theology, and technology. He holds a PhD in Theological Studies from Trinity Evangelical Divinity School and completed the Institute for Educational Management at the Harvard Graduate School of Education. He serves as President of the D.L. Moody Center in Northfield, Massachusetts, as adjunct faculty in Wheaton College's MA in Leadership program, and as an Associate Research Fellow at the Kirby Laing Centre for Public Theology. His writing has appeared in The Wall Street Journal, The Washington Times, Christianity.com, and Sojourners; he has been quoted in The Telegraph; and he is a regular guest on Stand in the Gap Today with the American Pastors Network. His forthcoming book is Digital Discernment (InterVarsity Press, Fall 2026). Learn more at jamesgspencer.com.