As there’s been talk lately about men — inside and out of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints — some, not all, rebounding from and, in certain cases, lashing back at varied levels of feminism, or, if that’s too dirty a word, against any sort of newfangled empowerment of women, it makes me wonder: What the hell’s the matter with us guys?
Also, aside from that, but relationally connected, is discussion here and there about young Latter-day Saint men wrangling with a complex world, attempting to find their place in it, trying to figure out what it means to be a real man. Apparently, more than a few of them are seeking answers via social media.
But if you are among those who think men these days have it hard — and that priesthood holders inside the Latter-day Saint faith are being made to feel like second-class believers to the point you need to lean on some assortment of enabling masculine voices, from the more practical to the downright misogynistic, echoing out of bearded faces and mouths from podcasts defining what it means to be manly — then “Insecure” might be your middle name. Or maybe it’s “Paranoid.”
Dudes, get ahold of yourselves.
Just because an enlightened church leader tells you over the pulpit at General Conference to treat women with proper regard and esteem, to be loving and understanding, that’s no threat, no reason to go on some crazed hunt for your burly place in the world, your masculinity, your virility, your machismo. It’s OK. Make a few adjustments, if necessary. And it probably is. It’ll be all right.
A priesthood brother recently complained to me that the elders in his congregation had to sit on steel chairs in the back of the church gym for their quorum meeting, while the women had a much more comfortable setting for their concurrent class in the Relief Society room. I mentioned to him that the congregation’s priesthood leaders — all men — sat in comfy chairs on the stand during sacrament meeting, while everyone else, including the women and girls, sat on harder benches in the chapel.
Why feel threatened?
(Trent Nelson | The Salt Lake Tribune) President Russell M. Nelson, with wife Wendy, waves to attendees after a session of General Conference in April 2024.
It has never been fully clear to me why an increase — or even a call for an increase — in the power of women is seen by some as chipping away at the power or identity of men. It’s not as though a majority of women inside the faith — ardent and able people who have lived their entire lives in the shadow of their presiding brethren, be they ecclesiastical leaders, fathers, brothers, husbands — are raising fists, burning torches or bras, and clamoring to storm the citadel with fire hoses of estrogen.
Contrary to what some men misunderstand, women say they just want to be equal. Is that really a threat?
So when modern church leaders teach Latter-day Saint men that they should hold off on the patronizing of women, that they should treat their spouse, their daughters, their sisters in the gospel with respect, kindness, benevolence, dignity, that shouldn’t shake their perceptions, definitions and foundations of what manhood is.
Again, it’s OK. They’re just saying or meaning to say that it’s a good idea to be not just a decent man but also a decent human.
It is said many younger Latter-day Saints are searching for what being masculine really means and turning to individuals on social media to provide that meaning for them. And the sources dishing those guidelines to hundreds of thousands of listeners and readers range from those speaking in softer tones to the harshly dictatorial.
Far be it from me to say men don’t need some advice because we’re all a little baffled from time to time. But questions and answers that sound as though they’re being asked and offered in the extreme, particularly a kind of Hagar the Horrible extreme, seem more cartoonish than worthy of authentic consideration.
Like a lot of other moviegoing guys, I have great admiration for a fictional character like Maximus Decimus Meridius, the general of the northern armies in the film “Gladiator.” He’s a leader thrown into a difficult situation who means what he says and says what he means, whether he’s talking to an emperor or an imprisoned slave. Most of all, he honors others and adores his wife and his son.
The strength of Mister Rogers
(Gene J. Puskar | AP) Fred Rogers rehearses the opening of his PBS show "Mister Rogers' Neighborhood" during a taping in Pittsburgh in 1989.
That last part is by far the most important, the character of the man, not the gladiator; his mental and emotional maturity and security, not his physical prowess; his commitment and compassion, not his combat skills. It’s easy to think that Atticus Finch in “To Kill a Mockingbird” or Fred Rogers in “Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood” is every bit the man of strength that the good general is.
It’s not that complicated and is fairly forthright. Maximus, Atticus and Fred are not Clint Eastwood’s “Dirty Harry” Callahan. They’re not the characters played by John Wayne. They’re just honest, caring men who want more than anything to be a good spouse or a good parent, a leader who doesn’t want or have to follow any guideline set by a podcaster.
Religious men, those who are Christian, the ones adhering to real Christianity, not some faux political form of it, have an obvious exemplar in Jesus Christ. You want to be like someone? Be like him, a humble servant of those he lived around and loved. That example has been there for a couple of thousand years.
(BYU Museum of Art) Carl Heinrich Bloch’s "Christ Healing the Sick at Bethesda."
Modern masculinity? Puh-leeease.
Truth is, the qualities that make for an honorable man — be it a husband, a father, a brother, a son, a friend, a co-worker — haven’t changed much. Treat women, men and children with charity, honesty and decency, whether they are in a position to benefit you or not. Genuine strength emerges more out of character than it does from workout sessions at 24 Hour Fitness.
Forget about the commanding images painted by Arnold Friberg of Book of Mormon heroes such as Nephi and Ammon and Captain Moroni, spiritual men crafted to make another Arnold — Schwarzenegger — look like a pencil-necked geek.
Any man who wants to be the p-word of his family — a true patriarch — should remember that the m-word — matriarch — has the same power and authority and value and importance and equality. A real man gets that, whether he has to sit on a steel chair in the back of the church gym for elders quorum meeting or on a soft chair on the stand during sacrament services.
(Francisco Kjolseth | The Salt Lake Tribune) Tribune columnist Gordon Monson.
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