MY FATHER ALWAYS told me never to fight an ugly man.
“An ugly man is going into the fight ugly, and he’s going to come out ugly,” my father would say. “You never fight an ugly man because an ugly man has nothing to lose.”
As a Baptist minister, it was not unusual for my dad to use stories to teach me about life and about manhood. Despite what we might now call his political incorrectness in talking about people’s appearances, he wasn’t really talking about looks or even fisticuffs. He was schooling me about the importance of understanding what’s at stake. Dad was helping me to know that you don’t get “down and dirty” with just anyone; that part of knowing when and when not to fight, in any form or fashion, is understanding whether it’s worth it.
But implicit in my father’s warning was the understanding that there are times when every man has to roll up his literal or metaphorical sleeves and stand up for himself, for his loved ones, and for the principles or ideals he believes in. But how do you do that without jeopardizing your principles, your position, your loved ones, or even your life? We have to sift out the useful from the harmful manhood messages we’ve received and ground ourselves in a righteous approach to life’s fights.
Like most fathers and father figures, my dad taught me lessons about life—lessons about hard work, about getting a good education, how to treat women, managing my emotions, ways of dealing with authority figures, and many other aspects of a guy’s existence. In addition to my dad, there were many other people and entities influencing my perceptions of manhood, including my uncles and cousins, my dad’s minister peers, the men who attended our church, guys who lived in our neighborhood, coaches and teachers, my classmates, friends, and teammates, and the movies and TV shows I was watching.
Many of the manhood messages I learned helped me grow and prosper. I learned about the importance of family, the value of education, doing chores, working hard, and respecting authority. I learned what it means to have self-respect, the importance of teamwork, how to compete, how to treat women and girls, and more. Because of my family’s religious focus, I learned why it’s so valuable for a male to have a healthy and vibrant spiritual life.
But other manhood messages I received—from “men don’t cry” to a lack of emphasis on self-care—turned out not to be helpful at all. Indeed, many traditional rules of manhood have boxed me and other men into an uncomfortable and unhealthy corner. Take, for example, the image of the strong but silent type. Depending upon your age group, you may have grown up thinking it was cool to behave like Luke Cage, James Bond, Shaft, Rambo, Clint Eastwood, or the Marlboro Man. Luke Cage has tremendous and valuable superpowers; however, he’s a loner. Luke doesn’t get close to anyone or even truly understand his own powers. Shaft was “fly,” but he didn’t speak much, and no one understood him except his woman. The Marlboro Man looked real cool smoking a cigarette on his horse against the landscape of the American West, but the guy never spoke at all. This raises the question of whether the image of manhood that has been presented to us is actually what we want for ourselves. Even if it is, is it good for us physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually?
No matter where you grew up or what your background is, you may be among the many men who have internalized beliefs like: there is a difference between being a man and being a male; men don’t cry; men keep their emotions in check; men never back down; some women don’t deserve our respect; men don’t go to church; real men don’t change diapers; and so on. Yet in many cases beliefs like these are not only inaccurate, but increasingly they are not helpful. For instance, try telling your female boss or peers that you don’t respect them and see how far forward you advance at work. Disrespect them by sexually harassing or assaulting them and you’ll join the growing list of men who are being dropped by the #MeToo movement.
Indeed, the fact of the matter is, guys do cry, dudes definitely have feelings, brothers had better back down sometimes, men who honor their woman feel more connected, fellas find fulfillment at church, and I know a heck of a lot of men who are very hands on in raising their children and would have it no other way. Indeed, today’s men engage in a long list of behaviors that defy both long-held masculine traditions and society’s narrow expectations of us. It is highly likely that you engage in them, and I do, too.
Whether in my church, in my community, as I travel and minister to others, and on my extreme adventures, I have repeatedly observed that when men confine ourselves to conventional stereotypes, we tend to live frustrated, painful lives. Indeed, every day I speak with guys who are feeling adrift. As I dig into what they’re feeling, beneath their discomfort I often uncover that limiting beliefs about manhood are keeping them stuck. For instance, I may discover that they need to return to school to remain relevant in the workplace, but wrongly perceive that classrooms are spaces for women. Or that they feel anxious and perhaps even depressed about their family life yet hunker down into their man cave rather than face the facts and develop new skills. Or that they’ve been ignoring the advice to take care of themselves and have gained weight, have high blood pressure, are worried about diabetes, and are struggling to “get it up.” I meet guys who never developed their spiritual life because they were socialized to believe that church was for women, men whose wallets are empty and their credit cards are maxed but who continue to spend so they can appear “large and in charge.” Guys who feel lonely and disconnected from their children and loved ones, yet don’t do the inner work required to develop loving relationships.
All of these guys are living beneath their “pay grade” in life. Each needs to update his manhood operating system to experience a more fulfilling existence. In fact, if I take my own halo off, I have to admit that I, too, have bumped my head against my traditional masculine socialization—not the least of which included the drinking during my college years that showed me to be an alcoholic. But even as a grown man, I allowed my insecurities to lead me to compete against some of my close minister peers whose gifts I greatly admire. At one point, because I envied them, I even distanced myself from them. As I’ve dealt with my insecurities and reexamined some of the messages I’ve received about competition, I’ve confessed that behavior to my friends and apologized for my shortcomings.
Indeed, socialization that has outlasted its expiration date tends to come with a very high price. Among our strong-but-silent movie heroes, Shaft died of a heart attack, a typical outcome for men who internalize their frustration and anger. James Bond no longer smokes and has even had a woman boss, but he’s also become more dangerous, emotionally damaged, and narcissistic now that Daniel Craig portrays him. Luke Cage’s indestructible skin and super strength don’t mask his pain or isolation. Not a lot of people know that all six of the actors who portrayed the Marlboro Man died of smoking-related diseases. Sadly, the only time the public ever heard them speak was when they testified before Congress about the dangers of cigarettes.
By warning me about ugly men and implying that I was going to have to fight during my life, my father attempted to arm me with information about a particularly important area of masculine socialization: handling life’s aggressions. Every man must figure out how to respond when his own well-being or that of the people he cares about come under attack. We need to know how to fend for ourselves when we are facing a custody battle, how to protect our loved ones when our job is on the chopping block, how to engage in self-defense when the drunk guy at the bar suddenly wants to fight. Closer to home, we need to learn how to fight fairly and productively with our own partner. We also need to know when to go for the win and when to back down when our teenagers and young adults get testy. The capacity to ward off various turbulence and violence is a particularly important skill men must possess. Indeed, though we’re often warned against it, I disagree with the idea that fighting is always a bad thing to do. Instead, what I think we need to understand is how a righteous man fights.
Because not only may we not have learned the most productive rules about when and when not to and how to fight, it isn’t always clear how to fight back when you’re besieged by intangible factors like economic disruption, changing gender norms, health challenges, and political correctness. How should you update your socialization and what should be your new rules? I’d like to suggest that if we want to do more than white-knuckle our way through life, we must root ourselves in timeless practices that transcend the economy, materialism, changing gender norms, and popular culture.
I believe that Jesus role-modeled a set of guidelines that not only show us the ideal way to live under normal conditions, but also what we should do when the going gets tough and it’s time for the tough to get going. Indeed, when I consider Jesus through the lens of a martial artist, it is clear to me that Jesus Christ took a principled approach to violence—one consistent with the warrior codes practiced by the fighting class of men found throughout traditional societies. Of course, as a Christian, I believe Jesus was God in the flesh. That said, I believe that Jesus can teach men of all backgrounds, Christian or not, how to find purpose in our lives, as well as meaning and victory as we engage in life’s fights.
I disagree with the traditional church teaching that people should not ever fight. To the contrary, not only do I believe that fighting is often necessary, but also, approached righteously, that fighting is not the immoral activity people often claim it to be. For example, fighting can also be a way of protecting oneself. Beyond that, it can be a method of delivering justice.
There are three different places in the Bible where Jesus faced violence. In each instance, he had to choose how to respond. It’s important that we understand them.
The first story occurs during the final days of Christ’s short thirty-three-year life. By this point, Jesus has already performed many miracles, including turning water into wine, healing sick and disabled people, and feeding more than five thousand people from two fish and five loaves of bread. Back then, the rumor was beginning to circulate that Jesus might be the Son of God or some sort of deity. In fact, word had traveled back to the Roman politician and general Caesar, who controlled what we now know as the Holy Land and felt threatened by anything claiming to be as powerful as he was. Indeed, Caesar felt the need to get rid of Jesus.
On this particular day, Jesus had come to the Mount of Olives to a town called Bethany, outside of Jerusalem, in Israel. He’d ridden there on a colt, and crowds had praised him along the way. Once he arrived, he started teaching in the courtyard of the Temple. The ideas he taught challenged the authority of the scribes and Pharisees, the religious rule-keepers of Jewish society and the region’s religious leaders. In the process, Jesus’s teachings exposed the leaders’ hypocrisy. Many people had begun to follow Christ and wondered openly if he was the Messiah, the “anointed” or “chosen” one the Old Testament had prophesied. Feeling threatened, the scribes and Pharisees attempted to set Jesus up with a series of tests designed to trick him into breaking Jewish law. If he broke the law they would have him arrested.
The debate between Jesus and these religious leaders went on for quite some time. As part of their test, these authorities brought a woman who had committed adultery to him and asked if she should be stoned. Those of us who live in Western society don’t typically spend much time thinking about stoning. But having a crowd of people throw rocks at you is the equivalent of the death penalty. It is a cruel punishment but back then it wasn’t unusual. What’s more, parts of the Temple were still under construction, so there were plenty of rocks lying around. Once confronted, rather than answering the leaders directly, Jesus issued a challenge: “He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her.” In other words: “If you’re so perfect, why don’t you kill her?” Called out on the carpet, everyone left, beginning with the elders, who had lived long enough to be humble about their shortcomings.
Once everyone was gone, Jesus forgave the woman; however, his interactions with her had turned the area’s religious, political, social, and gender customs on their head.
While teaching in the Temple courtyard, Jesus also debated religious leaders about whether he was the Son of God. The leaders charged Jesus with blasphemy, or speaking profanely against God. Since the penalty for blasphemy was death, they started to stone Jesus.
Now, Jesus already knew that what he was teaching was going to cause problems. He had willingly taken on this fight. Jesus also knew that this was not the place where he was supposed to die. He was to be crucified on a cross at Calvary. Getting stoned to death in Bethany didn’t make any sense.
So Jesus ran and hid.
Biblical scholars debate whether Jesus outran his attackers, was hidden by members of the community, or if, miraculously, he simply escaped. But no matter whose version you believe, it’s fair to say that Jesus got “ghost.”
As Jesus demonstrated and my father tried to teach me, understanding time and place is a very important part of manhood. Every guy needs to recognize when he is overpowered, outnumbered, or in a fight that he cannot win. In this story, Jesus reminds us that we don’t necessarily have to fight back when we’re aggressed against. There are times when we should de-escalate to reduce or even eliminate the level of conflict. That is to say, fleeing is an honorable and morally acceptable option. Indeed, running and hiding can demonstrate both our strength and a sense of purpose.
In China, the legendary martial arts strategist Sun Tzu, the author of The Art of War, taught warriors to retreat if your enemy is greater than you; fight, if your enemy is equal to you; attack if your enemy is lesser than you. Country-music legend Kenny Rogers also conveys this idea clearly: You’ve got to know when to hold ’em / Know when to fold ’em. Even men who consider themselves masculine run.
Jesus’s second response to violence took place not long after the first incident. Large numbers of people had traveled to Jerusalem to commemorate the Jewish observance of Passover. Many of them had stopped at the Temple upon their arrival. Now, Jerusalem’s Temple was a place where everyone came to pray, whether the region’s Israelite Jews or people of various religious beliefs who had come from other nations. Commerce was conducted in the Temple’s outer courtyard, where money changers converted foreign currencies into the local money, shekels. It was in the Temple’s sacred inner courtyard that prayer took place.
When Jesus went to the inner courtyard to pray, he noticed that commerce was going on in this holy part of the Temple. Jesus also witnessed merchants and money changers shortchanging vulnerable travelers. Jesus was outraged by what he saw. The Temple was God’s house—his Father’s house—a place Jesus believed he had a moral duty to protect. So Jesus wove several ropes into a whip and started flogging the merchants and money changers. They ran. Jesus then dumped out their money and turned over their tables and chairs. In other words, Jesus went “off”!
The way most American theologians interpret these scriptures, Jesus’s whip never actually touched anyone. Indeed, most of them teach that Jesus merely disrupted commerce. But that interpretation doesn’t make any sense to me. Why would the money changers leave their money behind and run if the whip wasn’t actually landing on them?
I believe Jesus is showing us that there are times when a man must stand up for what is right. He is saying that righteous men speak truth to power. They respond aggressively to the violence perpetrated by exploitive systems; in this case, the unjust financial system perpetrated by the money changers, but we could just as easily be talking about unfair political, educational, labor, or criminal justice systems that exist in society today. God wants us to challenge injustice, even when we seem to be outnumbered or overpowered.
Jesus’s skirmish in the Temple shows us that a man can stand up to power and win.
Not long after his fights at the Mount of Olives, Jesus experienced a season of struggle as God removed the urge to quit from Jesus’s spirit to prepare him to die on the cross and fulfill his destiny. Ultimately Jesus knew that he would soon be crucified so he went to the garden of Gethsemane, a place whose name means “place of pressing” or “oil press.” He was despondent and needed to pray to his Father about his impending reality.
Jesus left Gethsemane a changed man—no longer ambivalent, resistant, or afraid of what was to come—a testament to the power of prayer. In fact, when Roman soldiers came to arrest Jesus, his disciple Peter defended him by cutting off one of the soldiers’ ears with his sword; however, Jesus told Peter to put his sword away, for he had already decided to let Rome win. Christians believe that three days after he died for our sins, Jesus rose from the grave and later ascended to heaven.
Sometimes a righteous man takes a courageous stand even though he knows he will lose. When a man takes one for the team, his position powerfully demonstrates his belief that his life is part of a narrative that is greater than himself. The willingness to take the loss becomes a symbol of his strength. Indeed, a weak man is unable to walk away from a fight because he believes he must defend his fragile ego. In other words, sometimes the fight is about something or somebody else.
When we “man up” we can rest assured that on a spiritual level, when we are walking in our Purpose, everything works together for good. I’ll talk more about Purpose later. For now, understand that this doesn’t merely mean that everything is gonna work out, it means that angels have been assigned to you, nature will work for you, and circumstances will bow down to create the outcome God has projected for your life. Everything will be okay in the end—and if it ain’t okay, it ain’t the end.
These three passages teach us that there are times when it’s important for a man to stand up and fight, but also how to fight in a very principled way.
Jesus knew when to run, when to fight, and when to let things go. Consistent with this, real manhood says: I can fight; I can run; I can let the other side win. But real spiritual, or righteous, manhood checks in with God by asking: I am capable of doing all these things; which approach do you want me to take?
The righteous warrior engages in analysis, but he also interacts with God. In other words, he says: I’m man enough to run from something I know I could win; I’m man enough to fight when I know I can win; I’m also man enough to fight when I don’t think I can win. Then he listens to what God tells him to do and moves forward accordingly. To the righteous warrior, being a real man is about the relationship between himself and God, not his interaction with another man or entity. This approach is far more complex than the traditional Christian religious advice to “turn the other cheek,” which, in my experience, is typically set forth as putting up with more mistreatment. Furthermore, I believe the conventional interpretation and teaching around “turn the other cheek” is both morally wrong and fundamentally inaccurate. I don’t believe that any human being should surrender to harm or abuse. No man should allow another human being to beat him up or behave violently or inhumanely toward him without doing two things: first, defending himself, and second, getting the aggressor off of him. Consistent with this, no man should behave passively when he’s being harmed by heartless institutions or world systems—whether economic systems, criminal justice systems, or educational systems.
But if “turn the other cheek” doesn’t mean that a man should stand there and take it, what does it actually mean?
The first thing that it’s essential to understand is that “turn the other cheek” is not an in-the-moment teaching. It is a lifestyle that you should engage in only after you have stopped the violence, and the threat of aggression is over. In other words, a man turns the other cheek only after he is safe. I believe that a physically, mentally, spiritually, and emotionally healthier interpretation of this passage essentially says: We have bumped heads and you hurt me, but I won’t label you “enemy.” I forgive you, and I am offering you the opportunity to reconcile and start over. However, so we can begin anew, I will move you to a part of my life where our relationship can work.
Said another way, every single one of us must guard our personal boundaries and borders. Once we are safe—and only after we are safe—we should eventually bury the hatchet, demonstrate the love of God toward the person, and give them another chance. But I want to make sure that I emphasize this: You should not “turn the other cheek” while you are still mad. Give yourself time to heal first. That said, it’s important that you make a very serious attempt to forgive. A relationship that can’t withstand a misunderstanding or fight is not a relationship at all. We should all make room for other people’s humanity just as they make room for ours. However, if too much conflict is taking place, the relationship may need retooling.
I also want you to understand that though you may decide to resume interacting with the person after your disagreement is over, you do not necessarily need to allow the person to be as physically or emotionally close to you as they once were—not unless or until you feel safe. You should only interact with the person to the extent and in a way that the relationship works. In fact, depending upon the nature of the disagreement, it may not be possible for both parties to be their authentic selves and pick up the relationship where it left off. Eventually, your goal should be to get to the point where you can carry out Christianity’s foundational principle to love your neighbor as you love yourself; however, you may need to relate differently to do that. You cannot love some people to that degree if you allow them so close that they continue to hurt you. If you do that you are not loving yourself. In fact, you may need to reposition yourself in order to be loving toward them. And if I take it further, there are some instances in which it may be best not to be in a relationship at all. The time may have come to go separate ways, and that’s okay. Some relationships are for a reason and others just a season. Only a few will last for our entire lifetime.
So how did Jesus practice the principle “turn the other cheek”? Not long after he ran and hid from the people who tried to stone and kill him, Jesus stated his intent to return to Bethany to raise his dear friend Lazarus, who had died, from the grave. Jesus’s disciples were in disbelief. In a nutshell, they said: “A short while ago, the Jews there tried to stone you, and now you are going back?” Only the apostle Thomas was “ride or die” with him; even then, he wasn’t optimistic. Thomas said: “Let us also go, that we may die with him.”I
Despite the grave danger, Jesus was committed to performing an act of love for his friend. So he returned to Bethany to bring Lazarus back from the dead. When he actually did that he caused even more people to believe he was God’s son.
Jesus may have been a skinny guy. But he definitely wasn’t a wimp.
By now, you may be wondering why so many theologians teach “turn the other cheek” in a way that leaves people vulnerable to abuse. That’s a very complicated question, but I’ll do my best to address what I believe to be part of it. I think it’s for the same reason that they also interpret Jesus’s fight with the money changers as nonviolent: so they can teach that Jesus was a pacifist, or someone who believed that violence and war can never be justified.
Why would they want to do that? Let me explain.
The Bible consists of sixty-six books in which one oppressed person is addressing other people who are living under oppression. The Gospel, a word whose translation means “Good News,” is actually a good word to oppressed people. However, over time—from the Vatican, to evangelical leaders, to people who run schools of religious education, to leaders of religious think tanks and foundations, to prominent ministers—many religious leaders have become very powerful. So has the Christian church as an entity. When I refer to the Church, I’m referring to all Christians, regardless of their denomination. In other words, many of these people and institutions no longer fall or do not consistently fall in the category “oppressed.”
For all the good we do—and let’s not get it twisted; these organizations often do wonderful work—the Christian church and many of its more powerful leaders are now not so different from the power structure that the oppressed once fought against. So it’s no wonder that many ministers and religious leaders leave out oppression when they teach the scriptures, or the Bible’s sacred writings. At various points throughout history, the Christian church specifically and Christianity in general has also been used to oppress people. In the United States, the Bible was used to justify the slavery and segregation of people of African descent and dropping the atomic bomb on the people of Japan during World War II. In Europe, the Christian church failed to respond to Hitler’s fascist policies that, among other atrocities, led to the mass murder of some six million Jews during World War II. In Africa and Asia, Christian missionaries have helped to justify the plundering of people and resources. In both Catholic and evangelical Protestant churches, we’ve witnessed allegations of abuse get silenced the world over. All of these atrocities and more have taken place because the traditional Christian church’s imperialistic perspective has made room for dominating others. Dictionary.com defines imperialism as “1. the policy of extending the rule or authority of an empire or nation over foreign countries, or of acquiring and holding colonies and dependencies; 2. advocacy of imperial or sovereign interests over the interests of the dependent states.”
As a reflection of this position, I believe that many people who interpret the scene in the Temple as nonviolent and teach that Jesus is a pacifist are, perhaps unknowingly, looking through the lens of Christianity’s imperialist history. Indeed, dating as far back as the Roman emperor Constantine, wherever Christianity has been the religion of the majority culture, the Church has taught the vanquished people that Jesus was both passive and a pacifist. As a reflection of this, many theologians teach that Jesus was “meek and mild.” Perhaps they either don’t know or don’t take the time to explain that in Greek, one of the original languages of the New Testament, the word praus, which is typically translated as “meek,” actually means “controlled power.” The image of the letter is that of a stallion with a bridle in its mouth, suggesting that his strength is being restrained. In other words, biblical meekness is not the same as weakness. Jesus had power, but “checked” how he used it.
I also find it interesting that many religious teachers promote pacifism even though one of the Bible’s primary messages is to encourage oppressed people to develop their relationship with God so that God can help them break free from their bondage. The truth of the matter is that the Church has often had a vested interest in discouraging persecuted people’s natural urge to fight back. I think we need to be honest with ourselves: If oppressed people could imagine Jesus fighting back, perhaps they would want to fight back as well. Wouldn’t you? I believe that portraying Jesus as a pacifist helps to maintain the status quo between victor and vanquished.
Fortunately, the Bible is a story of redemption. God not only identifies with oppressed people, he also wants them to hear the Good News that Jesus loves them and overcame the world and its oppressive systems—and they can, too. We can, too. However, sometimes we must fight to do it.
So, once Jesus fled, once Jesus stood his ground, and once Jesus died for something greater than himself by taking one for the team, he decided how to respond to violence on a case-by-case basis. That makes Jesus a pragmatist, or someone who takes a commonsense approach to aggression, not a pacifist.
These three principles—run, fight, and take one for the team—form the core of a Christian warrior’s code and the foundational set of responses that a righteous man selects from when he is under any type of attack. Instead of succumbing to his emotions, a well-developed man demonstrates self-mastery over them. Having choice allows him to feel empowered, and his communication with God tells him which option to choose.
This is the hallmark of a righteous warrior and the foundation beneath the Code of the Righteous Warrior.
I John 11:1–16