These four verses from Matthew’s quill spotlight three aspects of classic, biblical, masculinity that are evaporating, in many churches, like a pack of smokes at an AA meeting.
What are they, you ask?
Well, I’m glad you inquired, you inquiring mind.
They are:
- Jesus was a mountain man.
- Jesus wasn’t scared of lepers.
- Jesus wasn’t some little chick that bragged about what he did.
Let’s chip away at numero uno, shall we?
Jesus was a mountain man.
I’ll never forget attending a pastor’s retreat in Texas many moons ago where I was publicly chastised during a dinner for ordering one Coors Lite.
That’s one … Coors … Lite. Not twenty. Not seven. Not two.
Just one.
I was told by this minister that I was being a “bad witness” by drinking beer in public and that according to him, Jesus was angry with me.
What I found ironic was the fact that he was about two-hundred pounds overweight, had more chins than a Chinese phonebook, and could barely walk across the restaurant parking lot because he was so out of shape.
Another thing I thought was a tad bit weird was him getting fussy about my one Silver Bullet when he had seventeen pieces of fried catfish and thirty-three hushpuppies. “Physician, heal thyself” seems a befitting verse for Mr. Busybody.
If Jesus were alive today and hanging out on a mountain top, old chunky butt would be left in the dust because of his self-imposed obesity and rank inactivity.
Men should be hardy and able bodied, like Jesus.
Jesus often hung out in the mountains.
Back then, there were no ski lifts or helicopters to transport one to a summit. Jesus had to be physically fit to get to these high places that he loved to frequent.
When most people think of Jesus nowadays, they think of some pale-skinned indoor boy that hangs out with the Virgin Mary all the time talking about how mean the other boys are to him.
Most of the Christian art–which is total effeminate crap in my estimation–depicts Jesus as some squeamish, non-athletic, Boy George-type dreamy Savior who walks around in a taupe peignoir and sandals. In my mind’s eye, I see the Son of Man more like a Bear Grylls, who has no problemo whatsoever traversing streams, bounding over boulders, scaling a rock face or piloting a gruff boat in rough seas.
Christian males, especially in big cities, wouldn’t dare try to conquer a mountain because that would require sweat, getting dirty, possibly twisting an ankle or worse … like wrecking their manicure they just got at Shambreeka’s Nail Salon.
If you want your holy testosterone to kick in gents, get beyond the pavement, away from the lame and tame and interface with the wild just like Jesus did. It’s magical. Be like Jesus and head often to the hills. Everytime he retreated to the woods He’d come back refreshed, filled with the Holy Ghost and ready to stomp more demonic skulls.
Another muy masculine quality in Matthew 8:1-4 was Jesus’s willingness to interface with the forbidden lepers.
If you had leprosy back in JC’s day, then guess what? Uber-religious people wouldn’t go anywhere near you.
Not only did your ears, fingers, toes, nose, and penis fall off, you also didn’t smell that hot and you had the added displeasure of lumps covering your noggin. In addition to that humiliation you were banished to live in a Lepers Only subdivision that was about as appealing as watching Joe Biden and Nancy Pelosi dirty dance.
In other words, no one wanted their picture taken with you to share on their Instagram page if you were a leper.
Lepers were deemed “unclean” by Moses in Numbers 5:1- 4. Therefore, if you wanted to be considered Lysol-disinfected by the Law of Moses and respected by the pretty people of the Old Order, you kept the heck away from the lepers and the leper colony.
Jesus shattered that rule.
Following the New Covenant law of love, Jesus healed the audacious leper whose faith dared him to approach the Son of God.
Oh, and by the way, Jesus could have healed the dude with His word alone but He went a step further and touched him. That was completely unnecessary for Christ to render His supernatural power but He did it anyway.
In our current context the “lepers” would be anyone who the legalistic evangelicals would deem “unclean.”
Y’know … like peeps with COVID-19, HIV, meth-heads, strippers, porn stars, the LGBTQ crowd, different races, political affiliations, and idolatrous cultures.
It takes a man to defy religious conventions, blow off what judgmental Christians will think about him, and reach out and touch folks myopic believers have deemed “unclean.”
If you don’t think that requires testicular fortitude then step out of your stained glass environment and try it. I guarantee it’ll require cojones to ignore the naysayers and infiltrate unsafe spaces with the power and the love of God.
And lastly, Jesus told the former leper, “See that you tell no one; but go, show yourself to the priest and present the offering that Moses commanded, as a testimony to them.”
There are two things I dig about verse four of Matthew chapter eight:
- Jesus said to tell no one.
- Jesus sent the “unclean leper” to the priest for a little show-and-tell.
It takes a man not to brag about what they’ve done. Most pastors today would’ve dragged that leper around the planet showing off how God has used them to heal this poor guy. They’d put it on Facebook, call up Oprah, and try to get Netflix to do a documentary about their mighty healing ministry.
Jesus, on the other hand, said tell no one. Jesus, you see, wasn’t some little fame-seeking Christian tinkerpot. The only person JC wanted him to tell was the priest who deemed lepers as unsavory compost that shouldn’t be touched but rather left to rot.
