Show Yourself a Man
In response to Dr. Eckardt’s advice to seminarians to “Show yourself a man,” a younger pastor disagreed. He said that it would be better to tell them to “Be humble.” I found this perception of incompatibility between manliness and humility illustrative, both of generational disagreement about masculinity, as well as differences as to how we see the office of the holy ministry.
Our feminized, longhouse culture has impressed upon us a shame of the masculine, a sense that it is “toxic,” and that to be a real man is to, well, become more like a woman. Little boys are taught to be, well, little girls: to avoid risk, to be nice at all costs, to color within the lines, and not to seek to resolve differences directly with other boys (aside from using feminine-coded language before tattling over every minor disagreement). It is little wonder that so many boys are drugged to the gills and gelded into submission by the time they enter college. It is also no surprise that many men in their young adulthood - not having had positive examples of masculinity growing up - act and sound effeminate. And if a young man does fall back on his natural inclination to manliness, he will quickly be nipped into line by one or more nags: his mother, his aunt, his girlfriend, his wife, or even his daughters.
This is where this faux-humility comes from: the fallacious separation of being a man from the idea of being humble.
The two are not mutually-exclusive, and what our cultural elites impress upon us as “humility” is really just submission to egalitarianism. Where we see true manly humility is where we see unbridled masculinity at work: biblical manhood in which the husband is the head of the wife (and not a simpering little boy asking his wife’s permission for everything), and the head of his children (not an inept TV-sitcom character that is the butt of the jokes of his snotty, bratty kids who are in dire need of some discipline). For this kind of masculinity is humble submission to God’s created order.
Let’s take the example of St. Polycarp (69-155 AD). He was no wallflower. This disciple of St. John the Apostle, who went on to become the longtime Bishop of Smyrna, would most assuredly be scolded for “toxic masculinity” by today’s cultural and ecclesiastical masters (or should I say “mistresses”?).
St. Irenaeus recounts (Against Heresies, 3.3.4) the heretic Marcion approaching Polycarp, saying, “Do you know me?” Polycarp replied, in typically masculine fashion: “I do know you, first-born of Satan.” This was not coloring within the lines of kindness. He did not try to have a conversation with him, or seek to find common ground, or “come alongside of him.” He did not use polite, uplifting, and kind language. And I suspect Irenaeus even cleaned it up a bit (Polycarp was his bishop and mentor). And where did Polycarp learn this “lack of humility” from? His own bishop and mentor was John the apostle. Irenaeus also tells us of John’s “toxic masculinity" at an Ephesus bathhouse when he publicly called Cerinthus an “enemy of the truth” and suggested they exit the building just in case God made it to collapse. God forbid were the apostles and apostolic fathers in a Facebook group with ladies from a certain generational cohort, the scolding and shrieking would sound like an air-raid siren (KAren! KAren! KAren!) - followed swiftly by soft and effeminate younger men (from a different generational cohort) following puppylike, scolding and shrieking in tandem. And those of you who know the Bible - especially the Gospels - don’t have to do any research to learn from Whom John learned to speak this way.
All of that said, Polycarp displayed both manliness and actual (not faux) humility.
As he was on his way to be executed (according to the Martyrdom of Polycarp, Chapter 9), a voice rang out, “Be strong, and show yourself a man, O Polycarp!” The intense and fierce aged bishop did not disappoint. While “gazing with a stern countenance on all the multitude of the wicked heathen then in the stadium,” and while “waving his hand towards them, while with groans he looked up to heaven, said, ‘Away with the Atheists.’” The proconsul implored Polycarp to cooperate with him and save his own life. The bishop continued to “play the man” in a way that would offend the modern sensibilities of niceness, kindness, and dialogue, replying defiantly: “Since you are vainly urgent that, as you say, I should swear by the fortune of Caesar, and pretend not to know who and what I am, hear me declare with boldness, I am a Christian. And if you wish to learn what the doctrines of Christianity are, appoint me a day, and you shall hear them.”
So maybe some of our brethren in the ministry would ask, “Where is Polycarp’s humility?” And here is where we find it: in His submission to His Lord and to the Word of God. Polycarp manfully testified to the proconsul (Chapter 10): “To you I have thought it right to offer an account [of my faith]; for we are taught to give all due honour (which entails no injury upon ourselves) to the powers and authorities which are ordained of God (Rom 13:1-7; Titus 3:1). But as for these [in the mob], I do not deem them worthy of receiving any account from me.”
O Polycarp, “in a world where you can be anything, be kind,” someone might retort today.
But where we see the best illustration of Polycarp’s manly humility is in His submission to our Lord Jesus Christ: “Eighty and six years have I served Him, and He never did me any injury: how then can I blaspheme my King and my Saviour?” And we see His manly humility in his willingness to do his duty, to take up his cross, to suffer and die as a martyr, bearing witness to Christ, His King. And Polycarp continues to play the man in his banter with the proconsul (Chapter 11):
The proconsul then said to him, I have wild beasts at hand; to these will I cast you, unless you repent.
But he answered, Call them then, for we are not accustomed to repent of what is good in order to adopt that which is evil; and it is well for me to be changed from what is evil to what is righteous.
But again the proconsul said to him, I will cause you to be consumed by fire, seeing you despise the wild beasts, if you will not repent.
But Polycarp said, You threaten me with fire which burns for an hour, and after a little is extinguished, but are ignorant of the fire of the coming judgment and of eternal punishment, reserved for the ungodly. But why do you tarry? Bring forth what you will.
We see Polycarp’s manly humility in his final prayer (Chapter 14):
O Lord God Almighty, the Father of your beloved and blessed Son Jesus Christ, by whom we have received the knowledge of You, the God of angels and powers, and of every creature, and of the whole race of the righteous who live before you, I give You thanks that You have counted me, worthy of this day and this hour, that I should have a part in the number of Your martyrs, in the cup of your Christ, to the resurrection of eternal life, both of soul and body, through the incorruption [imparted] by the Holy Ghost. Among whom may I be accepted this day before You as a fat and acceptable sacrifice, according as You, the ever-truthful God, have foreordained, have revealed beforehand to me, and now have fulfilled. Wherefore also I praise You for all things, I bless You, I glorify You, along with the everlasting and heavenly Jesus Christ, Your beloved Son, with whom, to You, and the Holy Ghost, be glory both now and to all coming ages. Amen.
This is true manly humility. Polycarp’s submission was based on the divine hierarchical order of God’s creation and the the Lord’s distribution of authority - which is not egalitarian. Polycarp submitted before lawful authority, but most of all, before Jesus. But Polycarp spoke the truth manfully and without a feminine deference to feelings and emotions.
I think a lot of the different perceptions about masculinity come from a misunderstanding of our Lord’s praise of meekness. For “meek” sounds a lot like “weak.” And St. Paul - in a different context - praises weakness. But meekness is not weakness, passivity, politeness, and coloring between the lines. Here is a helpful reflection from an article that I highly recommend, called The False Commandment:
The command to forgive is linked to the Lord’s praise of the virtue of meekness—and the confusion over both terms is similarly linked. Meekness, contrary to the common understanding, is a prerequisite for manly achievement and strength. It does not mean weakness or lameness but rather it is the virtue that, in the words of Aquinas, “restrains the onslaught of anger” so that good judgment can prevail rather than reflexive rage. The meek, according to Msgr Pope “are those who have authority over their anger, who can command and control its power, moderating and directing its energy to good rather than destructive ends.” It’s worth noting that the Church does not condemn anger; Jesus Christ himself got angry. But of course anger cannot be allowed to run wild. The easily angered man is also easily manipulated and thrown off of his mission—so it’s simply a statement of fact that meekness is a virtue worth cultivating. Again, the demands of the Christian life are deeply reasonable.
And indeed, it is important that men in the holy office preach and administer as men. That means to be confident, not mousy. It means to speak and chant and gesture with conviction. It means projecting your voice. It means making eye contact. It means intensity. It means joyful defiance against the devil and his minions - supernatural and natural. It means showing manly submission to your King. And we see this in the rubrics of the traditional Gottesdienst. It is both manful and humble to kneel, genuflect, bow, and make the sign of the cross as the celebrant at the holy altar in worship of our King. It is a manly thing indeed to slow down and show reverence and deference to the Lord whose sacred words you are given to speak authoritatively as His minister: divine and powerful words that consecrate the elements.
For it is unmanly and arrogant to rush through the Words of Institution, to appear bored and flippant and just going through the motions, to show no actual humility in one’s gestures while acting ministerially as the King’s servant. In fact, to omit this humility is the height of arrogance. Following the received wisdom of our fathers in the faith concerning the conduct of the service according to the rubrics handed down to us (which is what it means to conduct the Mass traditionally), is to submit to those who have come before us: to men like John and Polycarp and Irenaeus (who themselves submitted to Jesus), who were likewise given to consecrate the elements and proclaim the Gospel in a way that is powerful and manly, and also submissive to our Lord and King. To trash all of these ancient rubrics is to put oneself on the pedestal, to shun the past in favor of the present (the very definition of the Progressive worldview), and and to thumb one’s nose at one’s grandfathers - not to mention to send a message of a lack of humility before the Lord in His miraculous presence, and before all the people gathered in that place.
Hemming and hawing softly and sweetly and apologetically, sloppily and slovenly, at the altar and pulpit is not actual humility. It is really hubris in addition to being submissive to the effeminate spirit of the age. If you really believe this stuff: that which you are confessing in the church, then for God’s sake, be intense and intentional in what (and how) you say and do in the Holy of Holies. Please, pastors, don’t ever say what I heard a pastor say recently: “I’m infatuated with Jesus.” Kyrie, eleison, no, a thousand times, no!
Moreover, vestments are manly. They were commanded by God to the priests - who were all men. The traditional Christian vestments retained by Lutheran pastors are expressions of both masculinity and humility before the Lord. They demonstrate manly vigor before the Lord’s enemies (like a military uniform), and manly submission before the Lord Himself and His people (also like a military uniform). They cover the individual man, and confess that the pastor is in a holy office.
For Lutherans, another obvious historical example of manliness is Dr. Luther at the Diet of Worms. He was respectful of proper authority, but he defiantly refused to submit to them that which was not due them. Rather, Luther humbly submitted to God’s Word, and defiantly refused to recant. Luther could be gentle with his wife and children - and pastoral when that was what was needed. But Luther could also be bombastic and pugnacious in ways that shock modern people who are not accustomed to what really are ordinary and natural masculine ways of thinking, speaking, and acting.
If you read Charles Porterfield Krauth’s The Conservative Reformation and Its Theology (1871), there are a few passages of sixteenth century debates that Krauth quotes, especially amused by Luther’s take-no-prisoners rhetoric. Of special interest are the ones that Krauth sites in the original Latin, and does not translate them. They are quite, shall we say, indelicate. The modern dainty squeamishness with ordinary masculinity had already begun, even while Queen Victoria was in charge of the British Empire.
It may come as a shock to many that men simply relate differently to one another than they do to women. Like pack animals, men are much more hierarchical and direct and blunt. God Himself designed us for the purpose of national protection, social leadership, and for being the family disciplinarian. God also placed us into the office of the holy ministry, and forbids women from it. God placed us men as leaders of the family, and women and children are to submit to the masculine authority of husband and father. This is heresy in the Church of Egalitarianism, and makes a lot of people uncomfortable. The cultural knee-jerk reaction for conservative men is to wring their hands and say, “That doesn’t mean this, and that doesn’t mean that, and we have to be this, and we have to be that” with a lot of apologies and qualifications and sweaty brows and furtive side-eyed glances at their wives to detect any disapproval - as if our Lord’s words and His created order are sources of embarrassment. Well, they are not.
The church’s men need to stop acting like they are. Man up!
What we so often forget is that we are at war. The church on earth is the church militant. Pastors are ordained into a belligerent office. And of course there are times for gentleness, for meekness, and for restraint. But there are also times to turn over tables and destroy altars. There are times to speak softly and with tenderness, and there are also times to mock one’s opponents and talk down to them. Masculinity is power, and it is a little scary. It should be.
There was a video that comes to mind in which a mother testified to the school board about a shockingly horrific practice that was going on. Her daughter was being subverted by gender ideology in the classroom. The mother spoke almost apologetically, reminding the board that they are “partners” with her, and practically pleading with them to be nice to their daughter. One thought I had was, “Where is dad?” It’s a different story when fathers come to testify before school boards. It’s important for public servants to be a little bit scared - not for the sake of threats of illegality or violence - but because men are naturally more intimidating. A man would have adopted a command voice that would have filled the room - not necessarily loud, but projected and deep and resonant. He would have looked the miscreants right in the eyes, and told them unequivocally in an authoritative and manly voice, with matching gestures, that they will not be harming his daughter, and that parents - not teachers and not bureaucrats - are charged with raising their children. It’s not a partnership. It’s a hierarchy. And teachers are below parents in the divine order. It’s high time they start submitting.
There is a time for a man to be bold - whether the words are said softly and slowly, or with volume and vigor, as circumstances dictate.
To be a pastor is, by definition, to be a man, and to take charge. And to be a man is to be what God made the pastor to be: a leader, strong, brave, committed to submit to one’s superiors and to protect those under his authority and care, unafraid to do battle against one’s enemies, willing to do one’s duty at all costs, and motivated by love for both the Lord and the people placed in his life whom he was created to serve.
A man has a duty to strive to become stronger and better - physically, mentally, and spiritually. All men hold a warrior vocation, and the man called to serve the King in the kingdom, as one of the King’s ministers, is a “man under authority,” one who takes orders and gives orders. And the holy order into which he is ordained is an order of militant chivalry. There is no time or place for cowardice, for effeminacy, for refusing to use authority granted to us by burying the talent in fear, nor for suppressing our manhood to please an ever-increasing demand for emasculated men in our increasingly confused and wicked secular culture.
Dr. Eckardt explains:
But that first word of counsel was all I repeated: Show yourself a man. As in, go forth with courage and determination not to turn aside from your duty. I also told this gaggle of seminarians that I remembered sitting in Kramer Chapel on the day of call service with my classmates preparing to take our first calls into the field, and thinking of us as soldiers of a kind, and the field as a field of battle. Soldiers in the Church Militant, fit with the armor of God.
David’s charge to Solomon applies to all pastors and to all men. It is as fitting now as it has ever been before in history: “Be strong, and show yourself a man.”