The 1992 film A Few Good Men tells the story of a trio of military lawyers appointed to defend two US Marines accused of murder. Under orders from their superior officers, the defendants carried out a “code red” on a fellow Marine—an illegal and severe form of hazing—that tragically ended his life.
As the trial played out, different opinions about the case surfaced among the three lawyers. Two of them believed the jury should find the accused innocent. The third lawyer saw it otherwise. In his view, there was no excuse for the two Marine’s actions, even if they were following orders. “They beat up on a weakling,” he explained. “They tortured and tormented a weaker kid! They didn’t like him. And they killed him.”
When he asked his colleagues why they supported their clients, one of them emphatically replied, “Because they stand on a wall, and they say, ‘Nothing’s gonna hurt you tonight. Not on my watch.’”
The film taps into the two sides of masculine power. There is an honorable side that steps up, serves, and sacrificially stands in harm’s way for the sake of others. But there is also a dark side—one that selfishly bullies and bosses people around. One side makes the world a better place. The other makes it worse. One offers hope and allows human life to flourish. The other demoralizes and destroys. One advances the kingdom of light. The other collaborates with the kingdom of darkness. One stands against injustice. The other is an injustice to be opposed.
Violent crimes, which are for the most part committed by men, are just one of many ways men exert power in dark and dishonorable ways. But its misuse doesn’t require us to use brute force. We as men can also wield power over others through a position of authority, a raised voice, a sharp word, or a disapproving look.
If you are a man whose tendency is to dominate and walk all over people, something has likely prompted you to pick up this booklet. A friend may have told you that you’re too hard on people. You may have been arrested for domestic violence. Your wife may have filed for divorce. Your kids may have stopped speaking to you. A longtime, faithful employee may have turned in her resignation. You may have even begun to feel a twang of guilt over the way you can use cruel words to shatter a person’s self-worth.
Whatever the reason might be, keep reading. All of us men have the potential to use our God-given power for good or misuse it in ways our Creator never intended. The purpose of the booklet is not to demonize masculine power, but to lift all of its inherent goodness as we honestly own up to what’s gone wrong.
What’s Gone Wrong?
Turn on the local news or scroll through your favorite news app on your smart-phone. It doesn’t take long to find examples of masculine power taking a turn for the worse. To understand what’s gone wrong, let’s step back and briefly consider the idea of power from the larger context of the biblical story.
Original Power
In the opening pages of the Genesis account we see God’s breathtaking creative power on full display. From “Let there be light” (Genesis 1:3) to pushing the seas apart so that dry land would appear (genesis 1:9–10) to the “Let the water teem with living creatures” (genesis 1:20), God exercises the kind of power that formed, organized, and set the conditions for life in the world he created to thrive and flourish.
The first chapter of the book of Genesis culminates the creation account with God making both men and women as equally valuable image bearers of himself (genesis 1:27). Our Maker designed both genders to reflect the same life-giving power he used to produce, form, and sustain the heavens and the world. Without wading too deeply into the age-old debate about the similarities and differences between men and women (of which there are many), it’s reasonable to say what common sense has told us all along—that power is a fundamental quality of masculinity.
Designed for Power
For the first few weeks in their mother’s womb, developing baby boys and girls are identical. This begins to change at about five to seven weeks when the brains of most little boys start to become saturated with the hormone called testosterone. By comparison, the brains of most little girls start to release little drips of testosterone. (1)
Testosterone is a hormone that helps in the building up of muscle mass and physical power. Thanks to naturally elevated levels of testosterone, most adult men develop significant upper body strength. Studies also show that men have larger muscle fibers, and pound for pound, their muscle is slightly stronger than our female counterparts. (2). From broad shoulders to greater amounts of skeletal muscle, biology tells us that a man’s body is built for physical clashes, heavy labor, and the use of force.
The biblical narrative places its own emphasis on masculine power. For instance, we see it underscored in the life of the great warrior-king David when he praised God with these words, “You have armed me with strength for battle” (2 samuel 22:40). Later, as David was about to take his final breath, he challenged his soon- to- be- king son, Solomon: “So be strong, act like a man” (1 kings 2:2).
The apostle Paul highlighted the importance of masculine power as he closed out his first letter to the church in Corinth with this charge,“Be on the alert, stand firm in the faith, act like men, be strong” (1 corinthians 16:13nasb). Paul wasn’t telling his readers to be hyper-vigilant men who see danger everywhere they look. Nor was he promoting an arrogant, forceful personality that barges in and trounces over people. He was encouraging them to stay alert to the possibility of danger. And when danger threatens, he wanted them to respond bravely with all of their strength.
Both Scripture and the findings of modern science tell us that power is a core component of masculinity. But there is more to it than raw physical strength. Yes, there are undoubtedly times that life in a broken world will call for some of us to rise up and literally flex our muscles for the sake of those in danger. But there is powerful strength within the soul of a man that he can exert despite the size of his frame or physical limitations.
Men can express strength through courageously making a difficult decision or speaking up for those without a voice. We can offer powerful words of kindness or a reassuring look to those who feel overwhelmed. Sometimes strength is given through assertive words that lets those intending to cause others harm know that we intend stand in their way. At other times strength breaks through by having the courage to admit when we’re wrong.
While twisted and self-serving versions of masculine power have existed throughout history, God originally created the bodies
and souls of men to rise up and take strong action for the protection and flourishing of others. That is why Paul also called for a strength rooted in life-giving “love” (1 corinthians 16:14).
Power Gone Bad
God created men to act strong. But early in the story when that power was needed most, it failed to show up and eventually turned bad.
Sometime after God created the world and tasked Adam and Eve with filling and looking after it (genesis 1:27), Satan, in the form of a snake, convinced Adam and Eve to eat fruit from the forbidden tree (genesis 3:1–6). As the serpent tempted Eve, Adam (who the book of Genesis seems to indicate was there with Eve) didn’t intervene. Even if he wasn’t actually present, as some suggest, there still was a moment of truth when Adam needed to step up and move. The moment called for him to do something, to get involved and confront the danger before him—both for his sake and the sake of his wife.
But Adam did nothing. When history hung in the balance and humanity counted on Adam’s strength to rise up, he apparently lost his nerve and froze. There’s no indication that he spoke up in any way—only silence.
Another important wrinkle to the story is that the Genesis account indicates that God gave the instructions to Adam regarding the tree of the knowledge of good and evil before He created Eve (genesis 2:15–17). This provides even
more reason Adam should not have remained silent when Satan tempted Eve. As best as we can tell, God specifically entrusted Adam with firsthand knowledge of this vital information—to pass it along and to protect its integrity if threatened. Adam should have spoken up and clarified what God actually said. He could have said, “Eve, the snake has it all wrong. I was there when God said not to eat from this tree, and the snake’s trying to trick you. I’m not sure what’s going on here, but don’t listen to him.”
Instead, Adam remained silent, withheld vital information, and followed his wife into rebellion. To this day, we live with the devastating consequences.
One of the results of Adam’s silence has been male passivity. Many of us men have followed in Adam’s passive, avoidant footsteps more often than we care to admit. But it was only a matter of time before Adam’s passivity opened the door to misuse of power that has plagued the world ever since.
Within one generation of Adam’s failure to be strong, masculine power turned into murder when Adam’s son, Cain, “attacked his brother Abel and killed him” (genesis 4:8). A few generations later, Lamech followed suit and killed a man for “wounding” him and threatened to kill anyone who dared to cross him again (genesis 4:23–24). From there, violence spread like a cancer. Whenever power is not used as God intended it always corrupts. Apparently, things got so out of hand that one reason God flooded the earth was because of the violence of men (genesis 6).
Even before Cain turned on his brother and murdered him, God predicted (not condoned) that men would mishandle their power. Before banishing Adam and Eve from Eden, God said that one of the tragic results of humanity’s rebellion would be that men would use their strength to dominate women. “Your desire will be for your husband, and he will rule over you” (genesis 3:16). The Hebrew word translated “rule” means “to dominate.”
Sadly, there is something to the notion that it is a man’s world. Throughout history, men have exerted their power to overlook and maintain the upper hand against women. For instance, many male-dominated cultures have wrongly viewed women as nothing more than property or sexual objects. Females were not allowed to voice their opinions. They were not given the same opportunities for education or employment as their male counterparts. Although parts of the world have recently granted women privileges that for centuries belonged only to men, women have historically been passed over and relegated to little more than cooking, cleaning, and bearing children. Over the ages, many in the church have twisted New Testament statements about the concept of male headship to justify male domination in the home.
Two Wrong Extremes
Not long into the human story, something went terribly wrong. Satan’s cunning temptation of Eve put Adam’s strength to the test—and he failed. Masculine strength eventually turned bad. While some men gravitate toward a life of fearful passivity and avoidance, many like Diotrephes (the villain in the New Testament book of 3 John) who maliciously imposed his will on others (1:9–10), lean to the other extreme and misuse their power.
Saul, Israel’s first king, is a prime example of a man who exhibited both extremes. When the prophet Samuel told Saul about God’s plans to make him king and deliver Israel from their archenemies, the Philistines, his insides cringed. He said to Samuel, “Why do you say such a thing to me?” (1 samuel 9:21). His response betrayed his deep insecurities—a man who was “small in [his] own eyes” (1 samuel 15:17). In fact, he felt so weak and unsure of himself that when it came time for Samuel to present Saul to the people as their king, he tried to hide among the baggage so that no one could find him (1 samuel 10:22).
The biblical narrative doesn’t tell us the source of Saul’s low view of himself. We don’t know if his father or someone else
belittled him or ignored his strength. What we do know is that after Saul was anointed king, some troublemakers called into question his strength. “‘How can this fellow save us?’” they jeered. “They despised him and brought him no gifts.” Not surprisingly, Saul “kept silent” as the men carried on (1 samuel 10:27). Sadly, he seemed to take the mocking like someone accustomed to believing such negative things about himself.
Despite what Saul had come to believe, God had put his stamp of validation on him. He was the man for the job. And for a time, Saul apparently believed it. Under the power of God’s Spirit, he stepped up and powerfully answered God’s call on his life. (First Samuel 11 records the courageous military campaign he led to rescue the city of Jabesh.)
But Paul’s self-confidence didn’t last long. Instead of being a strong leader for God’s purposes, he started to compromise and make concessions out of the fear what others thought about him. When Samuel confronted him, he finally admitted, “I was afraid of the men and so I gave in to them” (1 samuel 15:24). And it cost him his throne.
As God began to tear the kingdom away from Saul, he became increasingly hardened and violent. This only got worse for Saul when his future replacement’s popularity began to swell among the people (1 samuel 18:5–9). It galled him as the crowd cheered, “Saul has slain his thousands, and David his tens of thousands.” (v. 7).
The last half of the book of 1 Samuel records the tragic story of an increasingly insecure and jealous man who resisted God’s grace and direction, and repeatedly tried (but failed) to kill David. In the end, Saul took his own life as he was overrun by the very enemy from whom God called him to rescue his people (1 samuel 31:1–6).
When a man lashes out physically or tramples others with his words, he may appear to be strong. He often feels a temporary sense of power surge through him when he’s angry and intimidating. But bullying others is not a genuine strength. More often than not, it’s often a contrived counterfeit that tries to compensate for more basic feelings of helplessness and inferiority.
Stories like Saul illustrate how males often misuse their power because somewhere deep down they believe they are small, powerless and unsafe. And we don’t help them, or the ones they continue to hurt, by just scolding them and punishing their behavior. While we need to boldly confront the misuse of strength by men and lovingly hold them accountable for the sake of those they hurt, we also want to show them there’s a better way to deal with deep, unresolved pain—a way that heals and frees them up to use their inherent strength for the greater good of God’s kingdom.
Power Reclaimed
Ralph Waldo Emerson wrote, “Man is God in ruins.” Since the beginning, much has gone wrong with masculine power that needs to be called out. At the same time, there are significant remnants of dignity. There still remains a good power that is part of man’s original make-up that our Creator-God still intends to reclaim for the purpose of advancing His kingdom on earth as it is heaven.
We see this original power most clearly in Jesus. As he burst on the scene announcing the good news that the kingdom of God’s restored world was at hand (mark 1:15), he regularly gave glimpses of what making all things new looks like in a world where so much good had gone bad. For instance, in the ancient world where children were mostly cast aside and ignored, Jesus welcomed and blessed them with the attention they needed (matthew 19:13–14). Those who were down and out, oppressed, and treated like outsiders found no better friend than our Lord (see matthew 9:36; john 8:1–11). Those who were in the service of the kingdom of darkness and oppressing the least of these, however, encountered a different side of Jesus.
The same man who made time for children also offered this stern warning, “If anyone causes one of these little ones—those who believe in me—to stumble, it would be better for them to have a large millstone hung around their neck and to be drowned in the depths of the sea” (matthew 18:6). In the week before he was executed on a Roman cross, Jesus physically drove money lenders and those selling doves out of the temple courts because they were ripping off the poor people by selling them religious instruments for worship at inflated prices (mark 11:15–17).
Jesus was the most gentle and gracious man ever to set foot on this planet, but he was also forceful and strong. But unlike the rulers of his day who wielded their power to “lord it over” people (mark 10:42), Jesus called his followers to exercise God’s original version of power—one that would be implemented for the flourishing and protection of others. As Jesus explained to his followers, “For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many” (mark 10:45).
If you are a man who has a habit of throwing your weight around, literally or figuratively, you don’t have to sacrifice being strong. The solution isn’t to do away with your strength—to throw it out like a faulty or useless part. That’s a tragic mistake that emasculates men. Our world equally suffers from a lack of men with backbone. The solution is to reclaim and develop God’s original notion of power—the power he endowed us with when he created us in his image.
Learning to exercise a different mode of strength than what you are used to is a deeply personal process that requires time. Along the way, there will be difficult things to acknowledge and work through. There are no easy formulas to follow, but as with most major breakthroughs in a person’s life, it starts with admitting you have a serious problem.
Admit You Have a Problem
Whether you do it with words or brute strength, at home or out in the community, it’s essential to admit that you bully others. You can’t take a short cut. Those who admit they have a problem can change. Those who don’t, will not.
You might try to minimize your problem by blaming others. You may justify what you do because you feel pushed around. You might be tempted to believe the lies that if people would just stop being so sensitive or just be more attentive to your needs, things would get better. The truth is that your misuse of power will only get worse if you continue to point the finger at others and operate from the selfish idea that the world revolves around your needs, your hurts, your opinions, your schedule.
If you continue to find it difficult to see you have a problem, remain open. Deep feelings of shame over the way you mistreat others may be restricting your capacity to see this side of you that others clearly see. But know that the Jesus who modeled a different kind of power doesn’t want to add to your shame. Jesus’s desire is to offer you grace and invite you to address the roots of your misuse of power together with Him, rather than by yourself.
You are well on your way to discovering and living out a new kind of power when you are open to let Jesus see you at your worst. He can open your eyes to see and understand yourself more clearly. So ask him to help you search your heart and the way you relate to others for as long as it takes till you start to see your problem for what it is. Pray with the psalmist: “Search me, O God, and know my heart . . . . See if there is any offensive way in me” (psalm 139:23–24).
Confess Your Misuse of Strength
As you have the opportunity, it’s important to personally acknowledge what you’ve done to hurt the people in your life. Be sincere, thorough, and specific. Confess the details. As best as you can, genuinely acknowledge how you dominate others.
For example, one harsh and uncompromising boss finally admitted that he rarely lets anyone tell him anything. He acknowledged that he’s a terrible listener, regularly interrupts people, and rarely let’s others finish sentences. He also admitted that he tends to do whatever he pleases, regardless of the effect on others.
These are painful confessions that might tempt you to believe you’ve gone too far. While there may be some long- lasting consequences for misusing your power, Jesus isn’t done with you. In fact, he’s just getting started. His forgiveness, as huge and surprising as that is, is just the beginning. You can continue to become a different man who offers his strength for the purpose of making God’s kingdom more real in the lives of others. Another important sign that this is beginning to take shape in your life is a willingness to take responsibility for the pain you’ve caused others.
Taking Responsibility
As the trial in A Few Good Men came to its dramatic conclusion, the jury found the two Marines innocent of murder, but guilty of “conduct unbecoming a United States Marine.” They were immediately ordered to be discharged from the Marine Corp and escorted out of the courtroom. Stunned and confused, one of the accused Marines shouted, “I don’t understand…. We did nothing wrong?” To which his fellow Marine confessed, “Yeah, we did. We were supposed to fight for people who couldn’t fight for themselves. We were supposed to fight for Willie [the Marine who lost his life].”
A man who has bullied people and misused his power has victims. And there is much more to taking responsibility for the negative effect he’s had on others than simply saying, “I’m sorry.” Although you may have moments when you feel and express deep regret and sorrow over the harm you’ve caused, it takes months and sometimes years for a man to truly understand and take ownership for the depth of harm he has caused others.
Those who truly own the hurt they’ve produced by abusing their power are willing to accept the consequences of their actions. They are willing to bear the burden that they haven’t been a safe person to be around. They take responsibility for the fear and mistrust they’ve caused others. And they give the people they’ve hurt as much time as they need to work through the pain and stress they’ve created. They are willing to do whatever it takes, for as long as it takes, to rebuild the trust and restore a sense of safety.
Don’t be surprised if some of the people you have hurt will withdraw or hurt you back. Pray for the strength to be gracious to them, and confess when you’re not. Part of acting strong in God’s kingdom is taking responsibility for putting others through an emotional ringer in the first place.
Stepping up and taking responsibility for the harm you’ve caused is often one of the early signs that a new power is starting to take shape in you. It’s reveals the desire to “put off” your “former way of life” and “put on the new self, created to be like God” (ephesians 4:22–24). It’s also an important way to reassure the people you’ve hurt that you are not just going through the motions because you’ve been told to. It tells others that you’re done making excuses. It serves notice that you no longer believe you have the right to deal with your pain by using your fists or angry outbursts to manipulate others. It shows that you seriously want to be a different kind of man.
Along with facing the harm you’ve brought to others, there is also a lot of unresolved pain inside you that you’ve likely been misusing your power to cover. The more you own up to your misuse of power, the more this pain will start pushing through to the surface. This too is a rough, but necessary part of the journey. In fact, it will likely get worse before it gets better. But healing is available for those are willing to face their deepest hurts.
Acknowledge and Grieve Your Deepest Hurts
Many men have to resist the lie that feeling their pain is a sign of weakness. We have heard it said, “Big boys don’t cry.” As a result, too many downplay how much they’ve been hurt. In his helpful book titled Wild at Heart, John Eldredge writes, “Most men deny their wound—deny that it happened, deny that it hurt, certainly deny that it’s shaping the way they live today.” He goes on to add, “But a wound that goes unacknowledged and unwept is a wound that cannot heal” (p. 106).
It’s time to stop playing the independent tough guy who’s “fine.” Acknowledge your most troubling wounds. It’s one of the bravest and most rewarding things you will ever do.
Every man struggles to identify and sort through his most broken and traumatized places on his own. That’s why it’s important to make plans to reach out to a friend or a group or a professional counselor for help. Be specific and intentional. Name the man or group of men you plan to open up to. Ask around for the name of a recommended counselor. Then take concrete steps to make it happen.
Others can help you start to think through your own story. Before you became harsh and intimidating, some traumatic things likely happened that made you feel stupid, weak or unsafe. If so, what happened? What was said? Who said them? Or maybe you witnessed violence in your home against another family member. If so, how old were you, and how did it affect you? Perhaps someone scolded you when your well-intentioned help accidentally made things worse? Did someone bully you or coerce you into doing something you didn’t like? And how powerless or afraid did it make you feel? What happened if you tried to tell a parent or someone older about it? What didn’t happen, and what might that tell you about what you needed back then, and still need today?
Reflecting on these types of questions with others can help you better understand and feel the impact that traumatic patterns and events in your past have had on you. Together, you can begin to get in touch with the emotional trauma you experienced growing up and allow yourself grieve. Jesus said that comfort awaits those who mourn (matthew 5:4).
In time, we can heal from the wounds we are willing to feel. It’s in the comfort from grieving that wave after wave of truth can start to crash over us. We can start to see the traumatic things that happened to us in new and more honest ways. We didn’t deserve to be put down, used for someone’s pleasure or made to feel so unsafe when we were young. Those things weren’t our fault. We were innocent little boys.
Grieving also helps us begin to truly grasp that those terrible things that happened to us are over. We realize that we no longer live in a state of constant danger. We don’t have to make others feel small so we can feel big and strong. We don’t have to protect ourselves from getting hurt with anger or intimidation. We know we are loved—even at our worst. And we can grow to be strong in ways that help others know they are loved, alive and protected too, all to the glory of the one who made us in his image.
