I’m Jonathan: a thirty-something from an undisclosed location in middle America. I enjoy going to the movies, spending time with friends and family, and exercising (when I get around to it). I tried taking an Enneagram quiz once but couldn’t figure out how to answer most of the questions. I’m told this reveals something about me, but I’ve forgotten what. I’m thankful for all the ways God has taught me to lay down my burdens and for all the people he’s brought into my life.
If masculinity is a definite concept, what is it? Most answers I’ve heard leave me unsatisfied. Some people imagine that a man should have certain aesthetic proclivities — he should like sports, for instance, or have a certain “gruffness” about him. This approach usually ends up leaving most men out of the picture, to one degree or another. The men it does describe aren’t always the most mature exemplars.
On the other hand, some people would define masculinity by reference to a list of stock virtues — a man should be kind, brave, selfless, what have you — and this approach usually fails to say anything about men, specifically. Shouldn’t a woman also be kind, and brave, and selfless?
If there’s something unique to men that we want to praise them for, what is it?
I have my thoughts about this little riddle, but I won’t try to lay them all out here. I’ve raised this at the start because, whether I can pin it down or not, there’s always something about men that I’ve liked, and wanted to be around, and wanted to feel that I had in myself — and, tragically, from which I’ve felt alienated.
Or, rather, it’s something I used to feel alienated from. Things have improved. I’ve worked through a fair bit of the resentment I used to feel toward other men. I’ve begun to value the (occasional) ease with which I relate to women. I’ve learned that some of the things I used to envy in other men had belonged to me all along — or could have belonged to me, if only I’d realized I could take hold of them.
I’ve also learned to distinguish between characteristics I might never have (visible abdominal muscles, for example) and various feelings or psychological states I’m sometimes tempted to associate with those characteristics — “There’s a special feeling in the belly that only six-pack-havers are able to feel.”
I’ve learned to mourn the absence of masculine things that probably should be mine and aren’t; to mourn them without collapsing into bitterness or insecurity or zero-sum thinking.
I really would like to be a little more fit, after all.
I really would like to find myself surrounded by loving men. Affectionate men. And not just once in a blue moon.
But inasmuch as these are trials to be borne, I can bear them in full expectation that God will fulfill the desires of my heart in his own time. All that to say, these issues don’t feel solely like “me” issues the way they used to.
As I’ve worked out the kinks in my self-understanding, I’ve noticed that my intuitions for what “counts” as masculine have shifted. I don’t mean that I’ve begun to replace a list of aesthetic qualities with a list of stock virtues. You may recall that neither of those approaches satisfies me.
So, how shall I say it?
I recently attended my first YOBBERS Retreat, and I don’t think any other attendee will fault me for saying that I seemed to detect a rumor of gayness about it. Some might say more than a rumor: gay accents, gay sartorial choices, gay modes of interpersonal communication, the occasional gay scream.
I don’t want to give a false impression to anyone who wasn’t there; it wasn’t Halloween in West Hollywood. But I don’t suppose that a casual observer would take long to notice something a little unusual about this group of men — something a little fruity, even. Maybe a casual observer did notice.
It would be easy to write a few paragraphs about how virtuous all these wonderful men were; how they showed me the (gender-neutral) love of Jesus; how bravely they pursued vulnerability with one another.
And that would be fair. But I want to do something stupider.
I want to write about a vibe, an aesthetic, a rumor of masculinity which I seemed to detect at my first YOBBERS Retreat. More than a rumor, some might say.
I’ll offer two examples . . .
Firstly, something I’ve learned that I like about being around a group of gay men is that they’re all, well, interested in men. They want to talk to each other. You don’t have to try so hard to have a conversation. You don’t have to pretend you’re talking to them by accident.
I’ve sometimes heard it said that a man is someone who “pursues.” Is that true? What could it possibly mean?
Well, since I’m being stupid, I’ll say that I’ve never felt more pursued than at the YOBBERS Retreat. The confidence, the persistence, the boldness of it all astounded me. I confess it seemed very manly to me.
I hope all my straight friends will someday be pursued in the same way.
Secondly, I used to envy a certain variety of happy-go-lucky, unselfconscious, usually athletic man who seemed so confident in his masculinity; who experienced so much freedom in sharing affection with other, usually similar men; who seemed to know the secret of being present as a man with other men.
I’ve sometimes heard it said that male friendship is all about joking around, living in the moment without worrying about tomorrow, getting in fights that are quickly forgotten, and so on and so forth. Who knows why anyone says that, but I want to take it at face value for a moment.
I wouldn’t describe the vibe of the YOBBERS Retreat as unselfconscious, per se. If I’m completely honest, I did detect the occasional expression of self-consciousness, expressing it myself from time to time. On the other hand, I’ve never felt myself to be in the presence of so much … poise.
Quietude of soul. Forgiveness. Steadiness.
Along with those qualities, I also saw a certain bubbling chaos, an uproarious sense of humor, a love of danger. Qualities which may sometimes go to the surface of a man; may redeem and bring into order.
What is it they say: “be gay, do crime”? I suppose I’ll start reading that as a statement about masculinity.
One thing being a gay Christian will force you to do is reckon with yourself; to own your own emotions and ideas; to choose a path in life that no one else will choose for you. Now, how is a guy supposed to be present with anyone when he isn’t even present with himself? I’ve never been around a more reckless, more carefree, more confident, more sure-footed group of men.
As a result of that, I’ve never felt more like “one of the guys.”
I want to be careful not to engage in fruitless comparison with other groups of men I’ve had the joy of being part of — everyone has their particular virtues – but I was obviously blessed by my time at the YOBBERS Retreat. I hope to attend again.
How do you define masculinity? When have you felt like “one of the guys”?
About the Author
“One thing being a gay Christian will force you to do is reckon with yourself; to own your own emotions and ideas; to choose a path in life that no one else will choose for you.”
Beautifully stated, Jonathan. I resonate so deeply with that thought. There’s something that seems very masculine to myself about having the courage to pursue a path in life which only God or other like-minded Side B individuals may understand.