Be the Man: Men's Christian Counseling in a Fragile Age

LEather Boxing Gloves hanging from an Iron Hook

“Stop debating what a good man is. Be one.”— Marcus Aurelius, Meditations

“It is not the critic who counts... The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena.”— Theodore Roosevelt

We live in an age of confusion. “Christian” counselor or not, this much should be evident. It’s not just moral confusion, not just cultural confusion; it’s identity confusion. Men, particularly those brave (or perhaps foolish) enough to step into the world of mental health, often find themselves simultaneously needed and unwanted. Celebrated as rare, but distrusted as relics. Told to “be sensitive,” yet expected to suppress the parts of them that are rugged, logical, or firm which, in turn, are what clients are looking for when they are turning to a man to give them advice on how to be a man in the modern world.

For male clinicians (especially Christian ones) this dissonance can be exhausting, confounding, and discouraging; doubly so when it is being echoed, championed, or used as a cudgel by other male clinicians. Nothing, and I do mean nothing, can be as demoralizing and mind-numbing as having the castrated male clinical archetype harangue you about the sociocultural buzzwords of progressive/woke/Marxist academia and insist that, because you differ (even if only by degrees), you’re not only bad at your job but the reason your clients are not making the kind of marked progress they could otherwise show with someone more sophisticated, urbane, and “on the right side of history”.

And yet, as Marcus Aurelius said, “Don’t waste time arguing about what a good man is. Be one.”

And as Roosevelt reminds us:

“Who spends himself in a worthy cause... who, at the best, knows in the end the triumph of high achievement... and who, at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly...”

This world doesn’t need more debate, and it certainly doesn’t need more gelded sweater vests who thing aggression is dangerous all the time, and masculinity is always performative and therefore something to be lambasted and corrected.

The world doesn’t need more pretenders. It needs men who show up.

The Call: Why You’re Needed

I’ll be blunt from the jump; the field of mental health is not overflowing with masculine presence. Step into most graduate classrooms or professional networks, and you’ll likely be one of a few males, if not the only one. But “male” or “masculine” does not equate to being a man… let alone a good man, and males (be they boys, guys, or men) are the ones most lost, most suicidal, most addicted, most angry, and most emotionally disconnected.

The irony is tragic: the field that’s supposed to help them is often blind to their needs or prescribing something that will ultimately destroy them. And the few men who do show up to help? Suspected. Softened. Tamed. Culture dictates the norms, clinicians are required, in some cases by law (see the most recent spate of bills that were passed dictating how clinicians are required to speak in Colorado) to speak to their clients. We are to create “safe” spaces where only affirmation is allowed to live.

Men, by all that is good and true, I charge you to not bow to that pressure. You are not here to be safe. You’re here to stand. Your clients are bringing the whole of their existence and all the problems thereunto onto your couch. As Christians, to affirm or “be a champion for” the things that are overtly destructive, or pathways to Destruction, are not good, helping, or validating to the soul of mankind.

As the Apostle Paul exhorted:

“Be watchful, stand firm in the faith, act like men, be strong. Let all that you do be done in love.” (1 Cor. 16:13–14)

That’s not a soft suggestion. That’s a marching order. That’s the Christian clinician’s version of Teddy’s arena.

The Pressure: Isolation and Misunderstanding

I’m sure you’ve felt it. You're the lone male voice in a training cohort. You question a narrative and are labeled “defensive.” You want to talk about the suffering of men—fatherlessness, false accusations, moral aimlessness—and you get blank stares, or worse, accusations and re(mis)direction about ‘real problems’.

But hear this: your presence is not the problem. Your presence is the resistance.

“The man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood... who errs, who comes short again and again... because there is no effort without error and shortcoming…”

Roosevelt didn’t write that about politicians. He wrote it for men like us who step into the brokenness of others, not with perfect answers, but with bloodied hands and steadfast hearts.

Aurelius said: "If you need a witness, be your own.”

And Christ said: “Woe to you when all people speak well of you…” (Luke 6:26)

You will be misunderstood. As a Christian, it’s become darkly humorous to see the mental gymnastics some will go to, just to be able to justify the ‘misunderstanding’. That doesn’t mean you’re wrong.

The Burden: The “Good Man” Myth

“Be a good man,” they say.

But what they mean is: “Be harmless. Be agreeable. Be emotionally vulnerable on command. Be non-threatening. Be perpetually apologetic for being male.”

That’s not a man, That’s a gelding.

Harmlessness isn’t meekness; you choose meekness when you know you’re capable of terrible violent destruction. Being agreeable and capitulating isn’t the same as holding conviction and smiling while allowing for differing opinions. Emotional vulnerability is not wise with those who have not earned that kind of trusted security. Being non-threatening isn’t the same as having red-line boundaries that come with consequences when crossed. Perpetually apologetic for something you don’t understand isn’t praise-worthy, it’s deserving of pity.

The Bible doesn’t call for that kind of inoffensiveness. Jesus was not a tame lion. He flipped tables. He confronted Pharisees. He defended the weak. He honored women. He bled out on a cross. He conquered death.

“His eyes were like a flame of fire… and from His mouth came a sharp two-edged sword.” (Rev. 1:14–16)

Jesus is both the Lion and the Lamb. The man of sorrows and the present-and-future King. He is our model. So stop bowing to the culture’s idea of “niceness” and start walking in God’s definition of goodness: strength, sacrifice, integrity, and holy fire.

Redeemed Masculinity in Clinical Work

Christian male clinicians are in a rare and powerful position. We get to model something the world has almost forgotten exists: a man who is both emotionally grounded and morally anchored. As men we are called to be priest, prophet, protector, and provider. Sometimes we nail it, sometimes we don’t. Some seasons sideline us from doing one or more of those roles to the fullest we would like to. Despite this, the world is still looking at men with the expectations of living up to that God given identity.

They need the man who:

• Listens deeply but doesn’t abandon truth to coddle feelings.

• Honors suffering without glamorizing victimhood.

• Calls men to responsibility, not just regulation.

• Counsels with conviction, not ideological obedience.

• Flames the ember of drive and purpose, without worshiping them as gods.

You’re not a relic in the room. You’re a watchman on the wall. And if the field resists you—stand anyway. Paul put it as ““Be watchful, stand firm in the faith, act like men, be strong. Let all that you do be done in love” (1 Corinthians 16:13–14). Or, as J. Michael Straczynski wrote: “Doesn't matter what the press says. Doesn't matter what the politicians or the mobs say. Doesn't matter if the whole country decides that something wrong is something right. This nation was founded on one principle above all else: the requirement that we stand up for what we believe, no matter the odds or the consequences. When the mob and the press and the whole world tell you to move, your job is to plant yourself like a tree beside the river of truth, and tell the whole world -- "No, you move."”

The Practice: Five Ways to Be the Man in the Arena

1. Let Scripture, Not the System, Define You

Therapeutic models change. The DSM changes. Cultural language shifts like sand in the wind. But the Word of God remains. Use clinical tools, yes, but let Scripture govern your moral compass. Speak truth even when it offends, and don't surrender biblical clarity for institutional approval.

“Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will not pass away.” (Matthew 24:35)

2. Train Emotion Like a Soldier Trains His Weapon

Emotional fluency isn’t fragility. It’s strength under pressure. It’s staying steady when others panic. It’s naming feelings without being mastered by them. It’s soul-level jujitsu against gaslighting, abuse, and narcissistic manipulation.

Men are not broken women. We process differently. We grieve differently. We communicate differently. And that difference is not a deficit; it’s design.

3. Forge Brotherhood

Therapy is intimate work. Isolation is dangerous. You need other men. Find a band of brothers—other clinicians, pastors, elders, mentors—who can challenge you, pray for you, and remind you that you are not alone in the fight.

Caveat; this isn’t a clinical cohort for case discussion or supervision hours… these are men who you trust who you can share your burdens with and who will be there to fight in the trenches with you when you’re the one going through hell.

“Iron sharpens iron, and one man sharpens another.” (Proverbs 27:17)

4. Speak the Words Your Clients Are Starving For

Many men walk into your office carrying shame for being men. They’ve been told to sit down, shut up, emote more, lead less, and God Most High forbid they be aggressive, driven, and full of spiritual conviction from a loving Father.

Your words can dismantle lies that cling to men on your couch.

Tell them:

“You were made for strength. You were made to protect. You were made to lead in love.”

Call them up. Not into bravado, but into biblical courage.

5. Accept the Cost

If you walk this road faithfully, you will be misunderstood. You’ll be called outdated. Maybe even dangerous. There are, lamentably, no shortage of like-minded and short-sighted nitwits and twits out there who might hunt for a way to go after your finances or even your license.

It is better to fall in that arena, bloodied and unbowed, than to rot in the cheap safety of institutional approval. This is the noble quest of stepping into our arena. It’s also a solemn reminder that we are to be “wise as serpents and innocent (meaning pure, unmixed, and undefiled) as doves.”

“At the worst, if he fails, at least he fails while daring greatly…”— Teddy Roosevelt

A Final Word: Be the Man

Brothers, the field doesn’t need more agreeable nice guys. It doesn’t need more “yes men” allied  to dysfunction. It needs men, unapologetic in their identity as a son of God and deeply rooted in truth, and unshaken in their convictions. You are not the problem. You are the presence the world forgot it needed. You don’t have to debate what a good man is.

Be him.

Show up. Stay grounded. Hold the line. When the critics come, and they will, remember:

“The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena.”

So go. Be the man in the arena.

And when you fail? Fail while daring greatly. But by God’s grace, may you stand.

“Act like men. Be strong. Let all that you do be done in love.”— 1 Corinthians 16:13–14

“The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena.”— Theodore Roosevelt

“Stop debating what a good man is. Be one.”— Marcus Aurelius