Recently, I was blessed to go on a Men’s retreat with my church. I have been with the church for several years now, but this was my first retreat (and the church’s 10th). Located in a sufficiently secluded woody area next to the James River in Surry, VA, the retreat was appropriately “manly,” and the schedule included “manly” activities involving paintball, trap shooting, hiking, fishing, golf, and several fires. (For all you Tim Allen fans, you start grunting now.) However, the retreat was not just about “manly” fellowship; rather, it was about finding strength in the unlikeliest of places – in our weakness. The idea of finding strength in weakness is paradoxical, particularly for men.
Men do not like to be – or even appear to be – weak physically, intellectually, emotionally, or spiritually because we are not wired that way. In addition, admitting our weakness is not often welcomed amongst other men nor is it positively rewarded nearly anywhere else.
Physically, men are the stronger of the two sexes. Our role models throughout the last several decades have ranged from John Wayne to John Rambo (Yes, Rambo’s first name was John) and many others in between. Many jobs often depend on our strength, and our roles (such as being the protector of our families) reinforce it. Men are often seen as being aggressive, flaunting and resorting to our strength in times of distress. We even fellowship and play in areas that pit our individual strength against one another (such as just about any sport or competitive activity) or even our strength against the elements of God’s creation.
Intellectually, men often compete with one another in contests or games of strategy, or in areas of problem solving where intellectual ability is a measure of success and to a degree a measure of one’s self-efficacy. This is just my observation (and perhaps a stereotype), but men appear to have more interest than women do in games of strategy or a contest that pit one’s ability in something against another’s ability. These activities can serve to reinforce a man’s intellectual “strength.”
Emotionally, men do not like to appear weak; interestingly, my experience is that women do not want men to be emotionally weak either. Yes, women want men to be emotionally available and in-touch, but not weak. In a book that I am reading, the author tells the story of a wife who chastised her 6’ 4” tall husband. When her husband responded in tears, she remarked, “Oh, how can such a big and strong man like you cry? You should be able to take it!”
Size does not mean that a man does not have feelings that can be hurt. From the time men are boys, they are trained not to show weakness in the face of pain—physical or otherwise. To this end, men are often regarded as weak if they do show that they are hurt. Ironically, men holding back their feelings may lead to maladaptive behaviors such as alcohol/drug use, withdrawal, or even physical violence.
Spiritually, much of the same wiring and reinforcement (or lack thereof) can play into a man’s development. Think about it – admitting that we are not strong enough to overcome something is just absurd! We are men! All of us (at least my generation) have a bit of Rambo inside of us that yearns to be the one-man army that is able to defeat the enemy and save the day (and our souls). Admitting that we are not smart enough to “solve the problem” and think our way beyond addiction and destructive behaviors is to admit inferiority to all the men who seem to have it under control (of course, they are probably just more adept at hiding their issues). Admitting that we are overcome with emotions that we do not know what to do with – that we have been trained to hide since we were boys – is to be soft and somehow less “manly.” All of these things would be to admit that we need help (oh no!), and for many men, that is simply not an option. How do you suppose a man, who faces all this internal opposition, who has been trained and reinforced throughout his life not to show any sign of weakness, admit that he is in fact so weak as to need not just some help but a savior?
For many men (including me), the answer to this question is only found in a time of desperation—in a time of utter brokenness—only then are they are able to admit their weakness and ask for Jesus to come into their lives and save them. It may sound silly to you, or you may understand exactly what I mean from your own experience. Regardless, it is only through Jesus that men can find true strength in their weakness, and it is in those moments of weakness that God’s strength is perfected. Allow me to take you back to the retreat to explain.
Through the various corporate and small group sessions, fireside devotions, impromptu exhortations, several meals, and random conversations, dozens of men explored how God’s strength is made perfect in our weakness. The key scripture is found in Paul’s second letter to the Corinthians. Paul just finishes a rather revealing rant about his hardships, including beatings, hunger, thirst, shipwreck, and much more (2 Corinthians 11:21-29). Further, Paul lamented about a “thorn in his side” that he had asked the Lord to remove three times to which the Lord answered, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9a, NIV). Let us now explore how we got here, as the journey is just as important as the destination.
The opening night set the tone with Regent’s very own Charles Fox addressing the men, talking about some of his own struggles with transparency and reverence. As a respected teacher and a preacher, he admitted his weaknesses in front of the group of men, most of whom he did not know personally. Throughout the retreat, other men shared their testimony; some have come through tremendous adversity and sin. Regardless of their growth, however, a common theme was that each of them was still a work in progress – we all are.
Are we men not strong enough to do the right thing? Are we not strong enough to resist our sinful ways? Are we not strong enough to keep the devil at bay? Nope! Consider the Apostle Paul, so sure of himself and so committed. Yet, Paul struggled. In fact, one of my favorite scriptures is when Paul lamented, “I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do. And if I do what I do not want to do, I agree that the law is good. As it is, it is no longer I myself who do it, but it is sin living in me” (Romans 7:15-17).
The fact is that both men and women alike have sin as a part of their nature, and only through our salvation as a result of Christ’s death on the cross and God’s continued and perfect grace do we ever have a chance at living forever in heaven. There is not enough cumulative strength among all the men of the world, who have ever lived, to save even one person.
During one of the fireside morning devotions (at 6:45 am!), our retreat leader led a discussion to this effect. He was a well-respected man, having walked some of the darker back roads of life, and he stood in front of the group of men and spoke. He did so in such a way that he said only what needed to be said, nothing more, in a way that captured everyone’s attention. A few men shared some of their struggles but most were quiet, taking a contemplative posture.
Even great biblical leaders lacked the strength to live in God’s will. Think of the remarkable transformations of Gideon and Moses. Each was nothing special. In fact, they were somewhat less than ordinary before God got a hold of them. Gideon lived under the oppression of the Midianites. The Israelites hid in caves in the mountains and were unable to harvest crops or keep their livestock. In desperation, the Israelites cried out to the Lord. An angel of the Lord appeared to Gideon, a member of the weakest clan in Manasseh and a bit of a runt in the family to deliver Israel from Midian, saying, “Go in the strength you have and save Israel out of Midian’s hand” (Judges 6:14). Even after the angel appeared to him, Gideon nearly demanded several “proofs” that it was really God speaking to him. In the end, the Lord was with him, guided him, and strengthened him. Then Gideon became a great general, scattering the enemy with only a small army. Gideon was physically weak and he was fearful. Moses on the other hand was not exactly a mental giant and he had many excuses.
After the Lord told Moses to bring His people out of Egypt, Moses’ fear manifested in excuses. At first, Moses questioned whether he should be the one to deliver God’s message. Who, me? Then he said, “What if they do not believe me or listen to me, and say, ‘The Lord did not appear to you’” (Exodus 4:1). So God gave him miraculous powers to show that he spoke for God. Then Moses pointed to his ineloquence, stating, “I am slow of speech and tongue” (Exodus 4:10) and he begged for someone else to take this burden. Again, the Lord gave him some peace by offering Aaron the Levite to speak for him. Needless to say, Moses was not exactly brimming with courage.
Gideon and Moses were certainly not extraordinary people until the Lord was with them. As with Gideon, Moses, and many others, the light of the Lord’s strength shone all the more brightly in the weakness of others. Time after time, the Bible records stories of God using normal or slightly-less-than-normal people to accomplish wondrous things. Consider Jesus’ disciples.
In Jesus’ day, young boys studied the Torah. They studied via verbal instruction, memorizing chapters, a whole book, and even the entire Pentateuch. This was a great accomplishment and a great opportunity. The boys who were able to memorize all five books of Moses, were able to study as an apprentice under a Rabbi and learn the Rabbi’s interpretation and thoughts about the scripture. The boys who could not memorize the books went home to learn a trade from their fathers, such as fishing.
In your mind’s eye, picture Jesus spotting two fishermen, as he walks along the Sea of Galilee. "Come, follow me," Jesus said, "and I will make you fishers of men" (Matthew 4:19). Essentially, Jesus called those men who as boys were not smart or “strong” enough to become apprentices of Rabbis. That would be like a company intentionally seeking to hire high school dropouts. The importance of the opportunity was accentuated because the Bible reads, “At once they left their nets and followed him.” That is, without hesitation, they gave up their trades to follow Jesus.
Okay, let us take this one step further. Were Jesus’ disciples superstars? Nope. Yet, Jesus worked with them for quite some time, and they still had to overcome many obstacles, times of disbelief, and even outright betrayal. Yet, within and through their deficiencies, God’s strength prevailed.
Men would do well to learn the lessons contained within these examples. Hollywood fabricates ideal men who are able to single-handedly defeat the enemy and save the day, but real men cannot live up to these standards under their own strength anymore than real women can live up to the Photoshop pictures of 20-year old models. Everyday men struggle with their thought lives, their emotions, and their behavior. Whether we try to do what is right, what is needed, or what we want to do, we will fall short. In our own ways, we are flawed and we are weak. However, these weaknesses set the stage for men to lean upon Jesus and his strength, not our own because in all things he strengthens us (Philippians 4:13). Ironically, the more we admit and even boast that we are weak, the more room there is for God’s strength to work. This brings us back full circle to the beginning…
“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Corinthians 12:9a, NIV).
We all face hardships. We may not be flogged or shipwrecked at the same frequency that Paul seems to have been (or what would be a contemporary equivalent anyway), but our pain and obstacles can be as foreboding as any other can. Our difficulties and problems will come in many forms, but through those challenges, the Lord will draw us closer to Him and he will strengthen us through His power.
God will send us on journeys that require more strength than we have within us. As evidenced in biblical stories (and in my own life), God calls us to a life for which we do not have enough strength to live. Gideon was the runt of the weaklings and Moses was the pauper of the poor. Yet, each of these men – and many others like them – accomplished great things through God’s power and strength.
It is through God’s grace that we find strength to do all things; it is through our weakness that God is glorified. God’s grace is sufficient for all of us, individually and collectively. Whether we face specific challenges or the hardship within a difficult circumstance, our reliance upon the Lord for His grace is the key. Through our dependence upon His grace, we will find the strength to persevere.
After coming to this conclusion, Paul gave us the second half of the message: “Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me” (2 Corinthians 12:9b). Wow! Boasting in weakness? Contemporary manhood does not seem to have room for that kind of strength! Moreover, Paul’s rationale about Christ’s power resting on him is more to the point. Yes, within the condition of our humanity we find strength in relying upon God’s grace, and in doing so, God’s strength is perfected – not because God needs us to highlight his power, but because His grace is perfect for what we need and when we need it.
On the final morning of the retreat, we took Communion. We ate of our Lord’s body and drank of his blood. Though largely symbolic in many traditions, this Communion seemed more powerful, more real, and more necessary than those I had before. It was more than a symbolic reaffirmation of my faith; it was a tangible recognition of the weak and frail condition of my humanity and a re-commitment to accepting a life of strength through Jesus Christ.