Recently, a friend asked me to speak to a group of college men on what living out the gospel in a non-missions oriented field looks like, particularly within the context of manhood. Originally I told him to find someone else more qualified and experienced than me, yet he insisted I speak. While definitely no master of this lifelong calling, I found it useful to both help those in the ways I feel empowered, and challenge myself with the words I spoke. While this discussion was largely angled towards men, the points and heart of the gospel remain central to each topic, and may prove helpful to women just the same.

All men worship. Our hearts were designed to lift something up and glorify it with our lives. Every action, word, and thought in our lives indicate that which we hold as ultimate, worth living for, and supreme. Christians reportedly hold Christ as this ultimate, dictating goal; claiming him as the reason and beneficiary of every movement. While this remains the hope and basis of our faith, the deceiver tempts us to look to another. His pulls lead towards success, performance, stability, pleasure, satisfaction, or acceptance as our gods. He tells us that money will eventually satisfy, sexual prowess will satiate, strength will be infallible, and respect can comfort. His lie has always been the same, “God is holding back from you, look to something else to provide.”

As men, our temptations become increasingly strong in light of the fall. After Adam passively neglected to intervene as Eve ate the fruit, his very purpose becomes dissatisfying. His very purpose to “work the ground” debases to working the ground through pain and toil. His relationship with his wife becomes full of strife as she “desires to rule over him.” The very things set aside to validate God’s regard for men become tainted, skewed, and marred beyond their original purpose. Sin enters the scene to bend our views and convince us that the very things through which we were to glorify God become in themselves the objects of our glory.

The result polarize men in two directions: Abusers and Abandoners.

Abusive men abuse. They look at the world in a scarcity mentality, thinking, “The world only offers so much, so I must get as much value, meaning, and worth out of every little thing that I can so that other people don’t steal it.” He looks to conquer himself and others with the end goal of looking strong, competent, and successful, coincidentally the things he cannot believe about himself. He will abuse power, substance, women, or himself in his quest to prove to everyone else that he has worth. His idol becomes himself.

Abandoners run to the fickel idol of the day. He looks to whatever will tell him he is worth anything, and will suckle off whatever coddles him sufficiently for the day. His mentality is to hide from emotion, need, and struggle for fear of being found wanting. He defers responsibility, can never be found culpable, and runs at the first sign of struggle. His idol becomes presumed safety and provision. He despises the biblical role of masculinity.

The biblical man paints a different picture; one of quiet strength, of dependent provision, of confident courage. While these images contain a wealth of depth left undiscovered here, we will use them throughout the course of this following discussion.

The world’s current assault focuses on masculinity, seeking to decry all aspects of opinion, steadfastness, and strength, while also vilifying humility, dependence, and meekness. As Christian men, our purpose then becomes infinitely more difficult as everything around us opposes this biblical model.

Here we will seek a small glimpse of this purpose through the lense of II Corinthians 2:17.

“For we are not, like so many, peddlers of God’s word, but as men of sincerity, as commissioned by God, in the sight of God we speak in Christ.”

The man of God described here knows and lives out of three distinct and revolutionary realities: as anchored in truth, as sent with purpose, and as one accompanied. These very truths remain the focus of many attacks of the enemy. He tells us there is no central truth, no meaning or purpose, and that you are utterly alone in this world. As we dive into each of these, consider the areas in which you feel most tempted to cave to the world’s corrupted voice.

“… As men of sincerity”

Quite clearly throughout the word, the Lord calls men to stand on immutable truth. Our calling is to “be steadfast, immovable, always abounding in the work of the Lord.” As Christians, our sanctification remains paramount to eternity, focused on the singular object of our hope in Christ. The world tells a different story, one of an ever-changing truth, a relativistic reality where the end goal changes based on the political or social climate of the day. Rather than shooting at a clear target, we now shoot into a fog, unsure of what the target even looks like, let alone being able to know if we have hit it or not. Yet our steadfast truth defines us. The concrete reality of sin and godliness, of good and evil, of what is within God’s will and what is not should shape every single action in our day.

The world hates the steadfast man. While applauding him in a world stage, anchored masculinity remains the target of constant assault in the micro scale. My coworkers invite me out to poker night from time to time. Even though I probably have the worst poker face known to man, I go out of a desire to know my coworkers better and to socialize with people outside of my Christian sphere of friends. Half of them use this as an excuse to get drunk outside the purview of their spouses, but the camaraderie grows with each encounter, so I keep on going. After everyone has reached their respective limits of alcohol intake, invariably one of them pipes up with the recommendation to visit a nearby strip club, a recommendation I am obliged to decline. Each and every time they mock, condemn, or generally disapprove of my conviction to miss out on this clearly edifying experience. While I have told them that I will never set foot into such an establishment, they ask again and again. They are perplexed by both the moral decision not to go and the unwillingness to change my mind. They hate the fact that I won’t bend my life around whatever social sphere I encounter.

Just as “we have this as a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul,” so also are we to live as steadfast, anchored souls, sincerely walking in the life of which we speak.

“As commissioned by God”

After university graduation, most of my friends got married and went to either graduate school or into full time college ministry. As one of the few going into the business world, I easily fell into the despondency found in the perceived “B-Team” of ministry. Sure, ministry is the inescapable calling of every Christian, but I felt on unequal standing with those going into vocational ministry. They were the real servants of the Lord, right? Yet as I entered the workplace, my calling there became more and more clearly urgent through the conversations and situations in which I found myself. The more I talked to my peers, the more I heard the same disheartening stories of alcoholism, divorce, porn addiction, boastful infidelity, depression, and hopelessness. Each of them would put on a mask of competence, yet boast in the depths of their divergence into abuse or abandon. My discouragement of not going into vocational ministry immediately faded into an urgent desire to see the Lord heal this clearly desperate community of people.

II Corinthians 1:3-5 calls us to comfort others as those comforted, to give and empathize as those to whom those have been done. As ones fully provided for, so we must also provide for others, whether it be emotionally, financially, or physically. While the world of software development might feel as a dark and unreached area, the Lord clearly calls me into this profession. As one created in the image of the one who spoke light into darkness, so I must speak truth into this dark circle. If we believe I Corinthians 9 to be true, that we can “become all things to all people”, then we must also do the same.

The world wants us to believe the post-modernist lie that we are aimless, meaningless, and ultimately unimportant in the scheme of things, yet the gospel paints a different picture. Christ tells us that we are “worth many sparrows” or of high importance in every regard. He tells us of a life with purpose, calling, and mission. As men on a mission, we don’t need to look for significance in our work, spouses, or lifestyles, but rather in our creator and his calling. He calls us to minister throughout every place and season we live, through whatever vocation or occupation we endeavor. To love as commissioned means to reject the world’s claims of insignificance, a bold and often offensive jar to the status quo. The needy man looks to idols and symbols to satisfy his desperation for hope or purpose.

“In sight of God”

Loneliness plagues the post-college life. No one seeks out openness nor accepts the vulnerability of a friend. Spending the day alone in a room full of people in their own worlds perpetuates a culture of isolation, suppression, and indifference. Yet here we see the biblical man defined as one who walks “in sight of God.” The El Roi of the old testament proves himself once more to be the God who Sees.

Men often don’t want to be seen, largely because they have never been seen and still loved. Everything in them tells them that, against all efforts, they are not enough and their shame will find them out. Each attempt on vulnerability yields pain, shame, and rejection. How painful a reality to accept! A coworker of mine once went into great detail about how he has learned to liey about his life to gain the acceptance of his so-called friends, people who he would readily admit do not know the true version of him. The world tells men that their emotions, their failures, and their brokenness are things to hide and be ashamed of. Weaknesses can be exploited, mistakes can ruin lives, and failure is embarrassing. Everything surrounding the modern man convinces him to suppress, hide, and cower behind a facade of competency. Here is why he abuses power to convince himself he is strong, or abandons anything that does not immediately validate his worth; he simply cannot receive it anywhere else. Yet once again the gospel contradicts the world’s message.

We see the Christian man called to a life “in sight of God”, one accompanied and overseen by the creator and lover of our being. We see the Christian man called to live in such a way as one seen and loved, utterly laid bare and yet still approved. This concept terrifies and draws in even the most polarized man.

Congruently, the Christian man must also seek to comfort others as he himself has been comforted, as discussed before. This includes transparency, vulnerability, and unconditional favor. While this concept remains foreign for nonbelievers, it may also seem to be starkly different from what religion has taught us in the past. Tradition tells us to confess our sins to a faceless man sworn to secrecy and that should be enough, problem solved. Yet looking at the early church and the epistles, we see countless instances of mutual spurring on, encouragement, indictment, and challenge. This openness was never meant to be restricted to a man’s relationship with God, but to extend into his relationships with others. The Christian life was never meant to and ultimately cannot be lived in isolation. The Body of Christ is just that, the active walking and talking incarnation of Christ’s redemptive work on earth now. If the Body of Christ begins to act as the accepting and welcoming group Christ designed it to be, how much more would those hostile to the gospel see the difference in our lives?

As Christian men, we are called to seek out and entrust ourselves to faithful men everywhere we go. People who will be able to challenge and encourage us towards our upward calling while seeing us in our utter depravity.

“We speak in Christ.”

Every Christian is a full-time minister. Whether in the workplace or the missions field, our lives exalt a name above all else. The very last thing Christ said to his disciples before ascending into heaven was to “go and make disciples of all nations,” and whether that means “go” or “as you are going,” the call to make disciples remains the same. To see his kingdom advance in the hearts and lives of the people around you is the inescapable call of the Christian life. As worshipers in nature, all men are evangelists for their idol. The promiscuous tell their peers of the benefits of sleeping around, the addict craves fellow addicts, and the successful boasts of their faux-saviour: success. Yet in all of these, as is apparent after five minutes of hard questions, these idols leave men abusing power or longing for the next fix.

Men look to find something steadfast to hold onto as their anchor in a world devoid of absolutes. They yearn for purpose and meaning in a world telling them they are insignificant in every regard. They long to be understood and accepted yet shrink back from the slightest chance because they have been invariably burned by every attempt at vulnerability.

Our steady calling to see His kingdom advance in hearts must change our hearts to minister to others as we have received ministry. The Lord holds the salve to all the wounds vividly experienced daily by the men around us. He knows the hearts of men, their longings for purpose, their desperation for an anchor in the storm, and their tragedies of openness. He has been there and calls us to be the voice and hands of his ministry. He alone is their hope, joy, and truth. And we, as men of sincerity, as commissioned by God, in sight of God, must speak in Christ to a desperate world.