Seriously, I do care what you eat, drink, hunt, or if you’re just relaxing with a good movie and hot buttered popcorn. But here’s the thing: when conversations about manhood get reduced to surface-level bravado, diet choices, or how tough someone looks, we miss the point entirely — especially when Christ gets dragged into that shallow frame.

Yes, Jesus wasn’t a pushover. He flipped tables. He stood up to religious hypocrisy. He went head-to-head with demonic forces and calmed storms with just a word. But if that’s all we take from His example — the external displays of strength — we’ve distorted the image of manhood and, more dangerously, we’ve reduced Jesus to a cultural mascot.

What is the True Image of Strength?

Culture often defines manhood through performance: how much you can lift, how stoic you remain, how assertive you act, and what kind of “alpha” status you carry. But Jesus’ strength was radically different. His power came from surrender, humility, and unwavering love.

• He washed feet.
• He wept.
• He welcomed children.
• He forgave His executioners.

That’s not weakness. That’s strength that outlasts empires.

Why Are We So Drawn to Surface-Level Masculinity?

Because it’s easier. It’s measurable. You can post it, flex it, hashtag it. But what Jesus modeled was internal transformation — a complete renovation of the heart. That kind of strength isn’t flashy. It’s formed in prayer closets, not arenas. It’s built in silence, not spotlights.

When we obsess over outward identity — fashion, firearms, fitness routines — we risk building our image on sand. Culture shifts. Trends fade. The heart of God remains the same.

Who Are You Becoming?

Not what are you achieving, but who are you becoming?

“You clean the outside of the cup and dish, but inside they are full of greed and self-indulgence.”
— Matthew 23:25

That hits hard. We can curate a brand of manhood — or even faith — that looks powerful on the outside but is hollow within. So, who are we behind the Instagram post, the political rant, the gym mirror?

Do we model kindness, patience, courage, gentleness, and truth? Or are we just echoing the latest version of “manly” marketed by influencers and algorithms?

When Did Jesus Become a Brand?

It’s one thing to honor Jesus. It’s another to use His name to sell protein powder, bumper stickers, or political talking points. Somewhere along the way, Jesus became a kind of brand ambassador for rugged Americana.

But Jesus wasn’t a white, middle-class suburban man with a pickup truck. He was a brown-skinned, Middle Eastern man — poor, persecuted, and eventually executed by the state. He didn’t conquer by force but by laying down His life. He didn’t rise to power; He lowered Himself for our sake.

We need to stop reshaping Jesus into our image and let Him reshape us into His.

Where Does Real Transformation Happen?

It happens where no one sees it. In the secret place. In confession. In forgiving those who hurt us. In choosing integrity when compromise is easier. In sitting with Scripture, even when it convicts. In showing up for people who can’t return the favor.

This isn’t glamorous — but it’s holy.

Let the world chase status. Let the algorithms dictate their image. But if we’re following Christ, let’s ask harder questions. Let’s dig deeper than appearances.

How Do We Reclaim Authentic Faith?

We start with the basics — the timeless, searching questions:

• How are we living? Not just publicly, but privately?
• What are we prioritizing — influence or integrity?
• Why do we believe what we believe? Is it rooted in Scripture or shaped by culture?
• When do we turn to God — only in crisis, or in every moment?
• Where do we spend our energy — on self-promotion or service?
• Who are we following — the real Jesus or a filtered version we prefer?

Christ didn’t call us to be culture warriors. He called us to be disciples — cross-carrying, foot-washing, truth-speaking, love-giving disciples. So next time someone tries to define faith or manhood by what they eat, drink, or wear, maybe we should ask them the deeper questions.

Because in the end, it’s not about what’s on the outside of the cup — it’s what’s within.