Strong Men, Weak Theology: Rethinking Masculinity Through the Cross

Discipleship is the only adequate framework for Christian manhood because discipleship is what trains anyone — male or female — to live under Christ’s authority in a world that wants to train us otherwise. A “more masculine” church is not the alternative to a feminized one; a more faithfully discipled church is.

Key Takeaways

Titus 2:11–14 names discipleship a necessity. God’s grace trains us “to renounce ungodliness and worldly passions.” Absent that training, the world’s discipleship fills the vacuum. Rom 6:16 makes the binary explicit: slaves to sin or slaves to righteousness.

Discipleship is constraint that creates alternatives. Drawing on Alicia Juarrero’s work on complexity and constraint, constraints “create properties which a component exhibits in virtue of its embeddedness in a system, properties it would otherwise not have.” The constraints of Christian discipleship open up ways of living unavailable outside the kingdom.

Unity in Christ does not produce androgyny (Gal 3:28). Husbands, fathers, wives, slaves, and masters each receive distinct instruction because they embody the world differently. What governs all of them is not gender ideology but a shared commitment to glorify God in the position each occupies.

Mark Driscoll’s WWII narrative illustrates the failure mode. Driscoll’s story of “strong men” leaving the church because the décor went mauve does not describe strong men; it describes undiscipled men. Men whose church attendance is conditional on their own comfort and who abandon their wives and children because “mauve doesn’t suit their fancy” are men without love — “a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal” (1 Cor 13:1).

Gal 3:28

Rom 6:4, 5, 16; 12:2

Tit 2:1–14

1 Cor 1:10–17; 12:12–27; 12:29–31; 13:1–13

Rom 12:3–8; Eph 3:20

1 Pet 2:12

George Will, The Pursuit of Happiness and Other Sobering Thoughts

Alicia Juarrero on causality as constraint

Mark Driscoll, Act Like a Man

Discipleship is counter-cultural insofar as culture seeks to shape us into something other than the image of Christ…and it always does. As such, being a male disciple of Christ cannot be about adopting a cultural script. It can’t be subsumed under masculine ideologies, however traditional or well-intentioned they may seem. If discipleship is the alternative, we need to understand what discipleship actually does—how it forms men, what it constrains, and what it opens up. We also need to recognize that society competes for our loyalties. It wants to turn us into a people of its own making. For instance, reflecting on the relationship between politics and character, George Will writes,

“Men and women are biological facts. Ladies and gentlemen—citizens—are social artifacts, works of political art. They carry the culture that is sustained by wise laws and traditions of civility. At the end of the day, we are right to judge society by the character of the people it produces. That is why statecraft is, inevitably, soulcraft” (George Will, The Pursuit of Happiness and Other Sobering Thoughts).

Will begins by distinguishing the sexes (male and female) before moving to the culturally shaped categories of ladies and gentlemen (roughly a subset of gender). This latter category, we might say, emerges from the discipleship (soulcraft) of society (statecraft). Though Christians may not see the need to push against “wise laws and traditions of civility” in the same way that we might push against radical notions of masculinity and femininity, we should recognize that any cultural notion needs to be subjected to the authority of God’s word. Respecting the norms of a culture as a witness to Christ within that culture (cf. 1 Pet 2:12) is quite different than being formed by them (Rom 12:2). Will’s “ladies and gentlemen” are culturally constructed and, as such, do not recognize Christ’s authority. They may be good to a certain degree, but because they do not emerge from Christian discipleship, they are rooted in an incomplete, misdirected understanding of reality incapable of finding “the way” that is Christ.

In Titus, Paul roots the various instructions he has given in 2:1-10 in God’s grace and the salvation it brings for all people (2:11). He goes on to suggest that this grace trains us “to renounce ungodliness and worldly passions, and to live self-controlled, upright, and godly lives in the present age” as we look ahead to the coming of Jesus “who gave himself for us to redeem us from all lawlessness and to purify for himself a people for his own possession who are zealous for good works” (2:12-14). In this brief section, Paul emphasizes the sort of lives those who have received God’s grace are to live. He also notes that this grace trains us to live that sort of life.

The implication, of course, is that without the grace of God, we will not receive the training that will allow us to live under Christ’s authority in the present world. We will be, for all intents and purposes, the world’s disciples trained in the world’s ways. We are going to be trained to navigate the world in one way or another. Christian discipleship is necessary, in part, because apart from it, a vacuum is created that the world’s discipleship will fill. We will either be slaves to sin or slaves to righteousness (Rom 6:16).

For Christians, discipleship is not something we opt into after reaping the benefits of salvation. It is what we are saved for. In our baptism into Christ, we identify with Christ in his death and burial “in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glory of the Father, we too might walk in newness of life” (Rom 6:4). Being united with Christ in his resurrection involves a bodily and symbolic movement. The bodily movement is our bodily resurrection that will occur in the future (Rom 6:5). The symbolic is the opportunity we have to live a resurrected life in the here and now. That symbolic aspect is what we learn through discipleship. As we understand how to observe all Christ commanded, we live an alternative lifestyle made possible through our union with the one to whom all authority has been given (Matt 28:18-20). The way of life we exhibit having proclaimed “Jesus is Lord” reveals something about our faith (cf. Jas 2:14-26).

Discipleship is the way all those united to Christ by faith learn to live under the authority of Christ (Matt 28:16-20) as unique members (i.e., individuals) inextricably bound together as one body (Rom 12:3-8; 1 Cor. 12:12-27). Because we are all learning to live under the authority of Christ, we should expect some continuity or commonality regardless of our uniqueness and individuality. Paul’s instruction to the Corinthians points to this dynamic. First, he highlights the differences within the community at Corinth asking, “Are all apostles? Are all prophets? Are all teachers? Do all work miracles Do all possess gifts of healing? Do all speak with tongues? Do all interpret?” (12:29-30). The answer to each of these rhetorical questions is, of course, “no.” There is differentiation within the community of faith.

Yet, this differentiation does not mean there is no commonality. The contrastive conjunction “but” in v. 31 sets the stage for Paul to describe something that all Christians should pursue—a characteristic that every Christian should desire to exhibit: love (1 Cor 13:1-13). The differences in the Corinthian community and the church more generally will create tensions without a common love. Love, however, allows a differentiated community to tame the attitudes that would breed contempt, arrogance, self-serving power plays, exasperation and unrest, scheming, falsehood, etc (13:4-7). In discipleship, then, we are not simply learning to live “morally”—though living morally is certainly important—but to live together contributing to the whole and depending on the other members of Christ’s body.

How Do the Constraints of Discipleship Create Alternatives Unavailable Elsewhere?

“What I mean is that each one of you says, ‘I follow Paul,’ or ‘I follow Apollos,’ or ‘I follow Cephas,’ or ‘I follow Christ.’ Is Christ divided? Was Paul crucified for you? Or were you baptized in the name of Paul? I thank God that I baptized none of you except Crispus and Gaius, so that no one may say that you were baptized in my name” (1 Cor 1:12-15).

Being baptized in someone’s name seems to have been a way of designating one’s primary allegiance—who one was actually committing to follow. Yet, to be a disciple of Christ, one can only be baptized in the name of the Father, Son and Spirit. It is Christ alone who is to be followed.

The second aspect of exclusivity in the Great Commission involves teaching and learning. Part of making disciples involves teaching those who have committed to follow Christ in baptism to “observe all that I [Christ] commanded you” (Matt 28:20). Clearly, Christ couldn’t have covered every single problem or situation that future generations of the church would face specifically. As we see in the rest of the New Testament, the apostles must extend and apply the teachings of Christ to specific situations within the Christian community with the help of the Holy Spirit so that the community of faith represents Christ faithfully. To put it differently, disciples of Christ learn to live on Christ’s terms, increasingly learning to emulate him and no other.

Discipleship provides us with constraints necessary for us to live out the alternative lifestyle of Jesus Christ. As Alicia Juarrero, an expert in complexity theory notes, “Constraints not only reduce the alternatives—they also create alternatives. Constraints, that is, can create properties which a component [or a person] exhibits in virtue of its embeddedness in a system, properties it would otherwise not have.” In terms of discipleship, then, we may say that the constraints of living under the authority of Christ not only eliminate certain ways of living but also—and more importantly—open up ways of living [“properties”] to which only those who are part of [“embeddedness”] the kingdom of God [“system”] have access.

When we think about discipleship, we are thinking about the process of adopting an alternative lifestyle, in part, by living within a set of constraints because we recognize Christ’s authority. Discipleship assumes our obligation to be loyal to our Lord (constraint). That loyalty—loving the Lord with all we are and have (Deut 6:5; Matt 22:37; Mk 12:30; Lk 10:27)—opens up new opportunities to participate with God in building the kingdom of God. The constraints of discipleship allow for the emergence of possibilities that would never be open to us otherwise because we have been united in Christ to “him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think” (Eph 3:20).

It is because we learn to live under the authority of Christ through discipleship—to live under certain constraints—that any notion of Christian womanhood and manhood must emerge from discipleship. Discipleship shapes our purpose in the world, as well as allowing us to recognize the obstacles and opportunities our environment affords us. If we attempt to extend the boundaries of discipleship to accommodate ideas about masculinity and femininity that are not subject to the constraints of discipleship, distortions and disruptions will emerge.

The dog skafoafyeiom before salkdoafdu over the akdaofdasfu.

While identifiable as a sentence because it follows some of the rules (i.e. constraints) of the English language such as the use of a capital letter in the first word of the sentence and a period at the end, the nonsense “words” throughout make it impossible to make any real sense of what is being said. When the constraints of the English language are ignored, there is confusion and nonsense. Without the constraints of discipleship, we will produce similar gibberish in our conceptions of manhood and womanhood.

Does Unity in Christ Erase Male and Female Distinctions?

Our individuality—the way we embody the world—is, like discipleship, a constraint that reduces and creates alternatives. When we recognize that the way we embody the world is limited, it closes off our ability to live independent of God and presses us to live in dependence on him. Part of that dependence involves coordinating with and recognizing the value of other members of Christ’s body. We need to work together and appreciate the work of the rest of the body’s members.

In teaching about the body of Christ, Paul highlights the constraints associated with individual difference. The members of Christ’s body “do not all have the same function” (Rom 12:4; cf. 12:6). The members of Christ’s body are to recognize and embrace their connection to the body (1 Cor 12:14-20), as well as respecting the position of others (12:21-26). These passages do not suggest that each of us is so limited that we can only do one thing, but that “God arranged the members in the body, each one of them, as he chose” (12:18). So, as we interact as relatively limited members of Christ’s body, we are to be guided by love, which is not envious, boastful, arrogant rude, insistent on its own way, irritable, resentful, or pleased with wrongdoing (13:4-6). Instead, it celebrates truth (13:6), is patient and kind (13:4) and “bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things” (13:7).

Love is crucial to the multi-membered body because it allows for a posture of coordination and appreciation instead of one that rejects, diminishes, and seeks to control. It is necessary because without it we will begin to advocate for ourselves and our values within the body of Christ—to create artificial divisions that align us less with Christ and more with Apollos, Cephas, or Paul (1 Cor 1:10-17).

“War took the young men out of the country and placed them under strong male leadership with brotherhood who had a battle. Meanwhile, back at home, who’s left in the Church? Women and children. We love women and children, and they also need to be in church, but the church no longer had strong young men. So then, the women in the church decide they’re going to run the church. All of a sudden, church starts to look like women decorated it. (As an aside, whoever decided mauve was the official color of Christian décor, we forgive you, but it’s hard.) Since there are few men in church during war, all the programming is for the women and children. So, they hire an older guy who isn’t off at war to be the pastor. He’s retired, and he’s kind of like a really kindhearted grandpa who’s going to love women and children. Next, they need to find a guy who will lead worship. This is where things get offensive. All the strong men are off at war, so they find a really nice guy who can lead worship. The least masculine guy is leading worship. I’m not criticizing; I’m just observing. In the Old Testament, the worship leader is a guy named David, a shepherd, which, in those days, was actually more like a cowboy with a gun than your typical mental picture of a docile man in a tunic. This guy isn’t like David. So, we have a nice older pastor who’s a grandpa and his confused grandson leading worship, and they emotionally connect with women and children. Then, the men return from war, and they show up in church. They think, ‘I’m not going to listen to that old man; I can’t relate to him. And I can’t sing like that guy. I can’t get in that octave unless I have an injury. I would need to not wear a cup to hockey night, and then I could sing like that guy.’ The men walk into what feels like a feminine environment; it sounds like a feminine environment, and it seems like it’s for women and children. The men of the Church left and never came back.”

First, I want to make clear that my comments below are not a reflection of those who serve in the military past, present or future. Instead, they are related to the “hypothetical” men Driscoll describes in the passage above. The goal is not to suggest that “strong men” have no place in the church but to highlight the difficulties associated with Driscoll’s approach to the question of masculinity more generally. It is rooted in stereotypes without adequate reflection on what it means to be a member of the body of Christ.

With that said, Driscoll tends to reinforce and celebrate stereotypically masculine characteristics while degrading stereotypically feminine characteristics. Going off to war is “manly” while remaining home from war is for the “older guy” who is really a “kindhearted grandpa” with little to no virility left. It is for the “nice…least masculine guy” whose participation as worship leader is “offensive.” When the “strong men” return from war, they can’t relate to the old preacher or sing soprano without suffering an injury to their privates—unless their “manhood” is injured (e.g., not wearing a cup while playing hockey), these deep-voiced, strong men will never sound like the “least masculine” worship leader.

By diminishing those who couldn’t go to war, Driscoll ends up creating a distorted image of the “strong men” who did go to war. In Driscoll’s tale the “strong men” seem more like petulant children than mature adults. Their church attendance is conditional on their own comfort. Because, according to Driscoll, they can’t endure the “feminine environment,” they opt to leave the church. To put it differently, they leave, not because the church is not ministering to those they are charged to love (i.e., their wives and children), but because “mauve” doesn’t suit their fancy. This description doesn’t, in my estimation, provide a picture of “strong men” but of men who have not love and, thus, become little more than “a noisy gong or a clanging cymbal” (1 Cor 13:1).

What Does Driscoll’s “Men Left the Church Because of Mauve” Story Actually Describe?

Whatever being a man means, it can’t involve diminishing other believers. While I can appreciate the concern that many Christians express about men and their participation—or lack thereof—in the church, suggesting that the church needs to become a more masculine environment to attract men is empty language. For instance, are the stained glass windows of the Lutheran church I grew up in masculine or feminine? Is the Lutheran church attempting to feminize lent by using purple altar hangings during that season? Part of the challenge with the language of masculinity and femininity is its ambiguity. It simply isn’t clear when the church as a whole or even any given local congregation tipped from being masculine enough to keep men in the seats to so feminine that they opt out of their commitment to Christ and his body because they are uncomfortable.

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.