The Unintentional Heretic
The Unintentional Heretic is a podcast for spiritual explorers, questioners, and ever-expanders who believe faith should be deep enough to survive honest inquiry. Together we’ll explore theology, spirituality, doubt, and the evolving search for truth—trusting that God is not threatened by our questions, and that sometimes heresy is just tomorrow’s orthodoxy.
The Unintentional Heretic
Baptized Patriarchy: When Toxic Masculinity Hides Behind Scripture
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In this episode, The Unintentional Heretic explores how “biblical manhood” often baptizes patriarchy and toxic masculinity with sacred language, constricting men, silencing women, and hiding domination behind claims of biblical order. But Scripture also offers a deeper invitation into mutuality and freedom, where women are honored as prophets, disciples, deacons, apostles, and witnesses to resurrection, and men are set free from brittle strength, control, and the harmful assumptions of toxic masculinity.
Welcome back to the unintentional heretic. Today I want to talk about the problem with biblical manhood. Let me say from the beginning, this is not an episode about attacking men. I'm not interested in shaming men or dismissing masculinity as inherently toxic. I'm a man. I know many good, gentle, faithful, wise, loving men. The problem is not men, the problem is domination. The problem is a version of masculinity that gets baptized by Scripture and then treated as the will of God. Many of us, especially men, were handed a very narrow script for what it means to be strong. We were told directly or indirectly to be sturdy oaks, stand tall, stay firm, don't cry, don't show fear, don't be too tender, don't be too emotional, be decisive, be in control, be the provider, be the protector, be the spiritual head. Be strong enough that no one has to see what's happening inside you. And some of that language sounds noble at first. Stability matters. Courage matters, responsibility matters. There's a kind of strength that is beautiful and necessary. But the problem is that many men were taught to confuse strength with emotional distance, leadership with control, conviction with certainty, and masculinity with the refusal to be vulnerable. And then the church often came along and gave that constricted version of manhood theological language. It's called headship, it's called biblical order, it's called God's design. It told men that they were meant to lead and women were meant to submit. It told men that they were the spiritual covering, the final authority, the steady ones. It told women their highest calling was support, softness, obedience. And when that goes unchecked, it causes real harm. It harms women who are told their voices are dangerous, their gifts are secondary, and their leadership is a threat to God's order. It harms girls who grow up believing that courage, authority, and public spiritual leadership belong more naturally to boys. It harms marriages when mutuality is replaced by hierarchy. It harms churches where women do much of the labor, but men retain much of the authority. And it harms men too. It creates men who don't know how to name grief, men who cannot admit fear, men who confuse apology with weakness, men who have been taught to lead but not to listen, men who can quote scripture about authority but have never learned how to be emotionally present. This is what toxic masculinity looks like when it gets baptized by Scripture. It's not simply men behaving badly, it's a spiritual formation problem. It's a way of training boys and men to mistrust tenderness, silence their own pain, and imagine that being Christ-like means being in charge. But Jesus gives us a very different picture. Jesus is strong, but his strength is not domination. Jesus is courageous, but his courage is not emotional numbness. Jesus has authority, but his authority is expressed through healing, washing feet, welcoming children, listening to the dismissed, touching the unclean, confronting the powerful, and laying down his life in love. Jesus does not model the kind of manhood that needs to control everyone in the room. He models a humanity rooted in love. So when we talk about biblical manhood, we have to ask a deeper question. Are we talking about the way of Jesus? Are we talking about patriarchy with Bible verses attached? Because we need to be honest, there is real patriarchy in the Bible. The Bible emerges from deeply patriarchal cultures. Men generally held public power, legal power, religious power, economic power, and household authority. Women were often defined in relation to fathers, husbands, sons, marriage, fertility, and inheritance. There are texts that reflect that world. There are texts that make us uncomfortable. There are texts that have been used to justify enormous harm, and we don't need to pretend otherwise. The question is not whether patriarchy is in the Bible. It clearly is. The deeper question is whether patriarchy is the trajectory of the Bible. Is male hierarchy the heart of the gospel? Is the purpose of Scripture to preserve ancient power structures forever? Or does Scripture itself contain a movement towards liberation, mutuality, and the restoration of human dignity? And that's where this becomes more interesting than the usual culture war arguments allow, because the Bible is more complex than either side often admits. On the one hand, there's obvious patriarchy. On the other hand, there's also powerful stories of women being honored, trusted, called, gifted, listened to, and commissioned by God. The Bible gives us Miriam the prophet, Deborah the judge, Holda, the prophetess, Ruth, the faithful outsider, Esther, the courageous queen, Mary, the mother of Jesus, Anna, the prophet who proclaims Jesus in the temple, the Samaritan woman who becomes a witness to her village, Martha, who makes one of the clearest confessions of faith in John's gospel, Mary Magdalene, who becomes the first witness of the resurrection. Priscilla, who helps teach Apollos, Phoebe, whom Paul calls a deacon, and Junia, whom Paul describes as prominent among the apostles. So any theology that says women are passive, secondary, spiritually dependent, or unsuited for leadership, has to ignore a great deal of the Bible in order to call itself biblical. And that doesn't mean the Bible is simple. It means the Bible is a library, it's a conversation. It contains ancient assumptions, but it also contains seeds of the kingdom that keep pushing beyond those assumptions. And that's often how scripture works. It meets people inside their world, but it does not always leave them there. Take the household codes. In Ephesians, Colossians, and 1 Peter, we find instructions to wives and husbands, children and parents, enslaved people and masters. These passages are often treated as if they are timeless blueprints for Christian family life. But household codes were not invented by Christians. They were part of the Greco-Roman moral world. Ancient philosophers wrote about household management because the household was seen as the foundation of social order. And in that world, the male head of the household held authority over wives, children, and enslaved persons. So when we read these passages, we have to ask: are these texts simply baptizing patriarchy? Or are they also subverting it from within? And the honest answer? Maybe both. Yes, some of the language definitely reflects patriarchy. Wives are told to submit, enslaved people are addressed within the reality of slavery. The structure itself is not fully dismantled. But there are cracks in the old system. In Ephesians, before the household code even begins, Paul says, submit to one another out of reverence for Christ. Mutual submission is not how Roman patriarchy worked. Then husbands are told to love their wives as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her. In a culture where husbands were told to rule, Paul tells husbands to sacrifice. Is that full equality by modern standards? Of course not. But is it a disruption of ancient male dominance? I think so. And this is where we need maturity in how we read scripture. Some Christians want to pretend the household codes are fully egalitarian and free of problems. They are not. Others want to claim these texts enshrine patriarchy forever. That's not true either. The gospel is already working like yeast in the dough, quietly disturbing the logic of domination from the inside. The problem comes when Christians take accommodations to ancient patriarchy and turn them into eternal divine commands. That's where the harm happens, because biblical order can become a beautiful phrase for protecting power. When a woman is told to stay in an abusive marriage because submission is her calling, that is not the gospel. When a girl learns that her brother's voice carries more spiritual authority than hers, that's not the gospel. When women can teach children, but not adults, sing in the choir, but not preach from the pulpit, serve the church, but not lead the church, we should be honest about what's happening. And when men are taught that their value depends on being invulnerable, dominant, always in control, that's not the gospel either. That's a prison. It may look like strength from the outside, but inside it often produces loneliness, shame, anger, isolation, and fear. And this is one of the great tragedies of toxic masculinity. It does not simply tell men they are superior, it also cuts them off from parts of their own humanity. It teaches them to mistrust softness, tenderness, grief, receptivity, dependence, and emotional honesty. In other words, it teaches men to amputate parts of themselves and call the wound strength. But Jesus never asks men to become less human in order to be faithful. Jesus weeps. Jesus receives care from women. Jesus blesses children, touches the sick, tells the truth, gets angry at injustice, withdraws to pray, asks his friends to stay awake with him in Gethsemane. Jesus is not the sturdy oak who feels nothing. Jesus is fully alive. He's strong enough to be tender, to receive love. He's strong enough to serve. He's courageous enough to be vulnerable. And that's a much deeper vision of humanity than the brittle masculinity many of us inherited. And Jesus is very clear about power. He says, the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over you, and their great ones are tyrants over them. It shall not be so among you. That line matters. It shall not be so among you. Jesus does not say the world dominates through power, but you should dominate through better theology. He says that the community gathered around him must not mirror the domination systems of the world. Leadership in the kingdom is service. Authority in the kingdom is self-giving love. Greatness in the kingdom is not being over others, it's becoming servant of all. So if Jesus is the lens through which Christians read Scripture, then every text about power has to pass through him. And when we look at Jesus' treatment of women, the pattern becomes clear. He speaks with women in public, he teaches women, he heals women, he receives financial support from women. He allows women to sit at his feet as disciples. He defends women from public shame. He entrusts women with witness. In Luke 8, women are named as traveling with Jesus and supporting his ministry. And that may sound ordinary to us, but in the first century world, it's remarkable. In Luke 10, Mary sits at the feet of Jesus while Martha is busy serving. To sit at the feet of a rabbi was the posture of a disciple. When Martha asked Jesus to send Mary back to the expected domestic role, Jesus refuses. He says Mary has chosen the better part. That's not Jesus devaluing Martha. It is Jesus refusing to reduce Mary. In John 4, Jesus has a long theological conversation with a Samaritan woman. She carries layers of gender, ethnic, religious, and social exclusion. But Jesus engages her as a serious theological conversation partner, and she becomes a witness to her village. In John 11, Martha says, I believe that you are the Messiah, the Son of God, the one coming into the world. That's a major confession of faith spoken by a woman. And then there's Mary Magdalene. Mary Magdalene has been buried under centuries of bad interpretation. She's often been portrayed as a prostitute or a symbol of sexual sin, even though the canonical gospels don't say that. What they do say is that she followed Jesus, was present at the cross, went to the tomb, encountered the risen Christ, and was sent to tell the disciples. In John's gospel, Mary Magdalene is the first person to proclaim the resurrection. I have seen the Lord. This is why she's often called the apostle to the apostles. Let that sink in. The central claim of Christianity that Christ is risen is first entrusted to a woman. If God were deeply committed to a strict hierarchy in which women must never proclaim good news to men, resurrection morning would be a very strange time to forget that rule. The early church also knew women leaders. Paul commends Phoebe in Romans 16 and calls her a deacon of the church. Many scholars believe she likely carried Paul's letter to the Romans, which means she may have been the first person to read and interpret that letter to the Roman Christians. Paul names Priscilla, alongside Aquila, as his co-worker in Christ Jesus. And Acts, Priscilla and Aquila, explain the way of God more accurately to Apollos, an educated and eloquent preacher. And Paul names Junia as prominent among the apostles. Junia is especially interesting because for centuries some interpreters tried to turn her into a man named Junius, even though the evidence for that male name is extremely weak. Why? Because if Junia is a woman and Paul calls her as prominent among the apostles, the old system starts to tremble. And that's what patriarchy often does. When the evidence doesn't fit the hierarchy, it edits the evidence. But again, the Bible is not simple. We also have Paul saying, I do not permit a woman to teach or to have authority over a man in 1 Timothy. We have women told to be silent in churches in 1 Corinthians. Even though just a few chapters earlier, Paul assumes women are praying and prophesying in the assembly. There are tensions. There are texts that seem liberating, and there are texts that are restrictive. There are women leading and passages that limit women's leadership. So what do we do with that? We can pretend the tension is not there, or we can pick the verses that support the structure we already prefer, or we can read more deeply. We can ask what looks most like Jesus. We can ask what bears the fruit of the Spirit. We can ask whether a text reflects the liberating movement of the kingdom or the cultural assumptions of the world in which it was written. That doesn't mean we dismiss scripture. It means we take scripture seriously enough not to read it flatly. Because when the Bible is read flatly, isolated verses become weapons. When we read through Jesus, the pattern becomes clearer. Jesus moves towards the people society diminishes. He expands the circle of belonging. He dignifies the dismissed. He confronts domination. He tells the powerful to become servants. He sends Mary Magdalene to preach resurrection to the men hiding in fear. That should shape how we read everything else. This is not an abstract theological debate. This lands in real lives. It lands in the woman who knows she is called to preach, but is told her voice is a threat. It lands in the teenage girl who is taught that leadership is masculine and support is feminine. It lands in the wife who's told submission means silence. It lands in the man who doesn't know how to apologize because he thinks it will make him weak. It lands in the father who loves his children deeply, but doesn't know how to say it without awkwardness. It lands in the pastor who's been trained to be impressive but not emotionally honest. So when we're talking about biblical manhood, maybe we should ask, what kind of men are we forming? Are we forming men who can love without control? Men who can lead without domination, who can apologize without shame, men who can weep without embarrassment, who can receive wisdom from women without feeling threatened, men who can hold power lightly, men who can follow Jesus into tenderness, courage, justice, and humility, that would be a masculinity worth blessing. But if our version of manhood requires women to be smaller, children to be afraid, emotions to be buried, and authority to be protected at all costs, then that's definitely not biblical manhood. Maybe it's patriarchy with a cross around its neck. And this is where Pentecost matters. When Peter stands up in Acts chapter two, he explains what is happening by quoting the prophet Joel, I will pour out my spirit upon all flesh, and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy. Sons and daughters, young and old, enslaved and free. The spirit does not seem nearly as anxious about gender hierarchy as some parts of the church have been. The spirit falls where the spirit wills. The spirit gives gifts to whom the spirit chooses, and when the spirit gives a gift, the church's task is not to suppress it because it arrived in a woman. The church's task is to receive it with gratitude. This is where biblical manhood often fails. It starts with hierarchy and then arranges the Bible around it. But Jesus starts with the kingdom. And the kingdom is not built on domination. It's built on love, mutuality, humility, justice, and the dignity of every person. This doesn't mean there's no differences between people. It doesn't mean that bodies do not matter. It doesn't mean that sex and gender are irrelevant or simple. It means difference was never meant to become domination. In Genesis 1, before hierarchy enters the story, male and female are both made in the image of God. Both are blessed, both given responsibility, both are called to participate in the life and care of creation. That is the beginning. And in Christ, Paul says in Galatians, there's no longer Jew or Greek, slave or free, male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus. And this doesn't erase particularity. It doesn't make us interchangeable. It means the old hierarchies that determine value, access, and belonging do not get the final word in Christ. So maybe the question is not, what does biblical manhood protect? Maybe the question is, who does the way of Jesus set free? Does our theology set women free to use the gifts God has given them? Does it set free men from domination and emotional captivity? Does it set families free from mutual love? Does it set churches free to receive the Spirit wherever the Spirit's poured out? Does it protect the vulnerable from harm hidden behind religious language? If it does not, we should have the courage to ask whether we're defending the Bible or defending a system the gospel is trying to heal, because power often hides behind the language of order, but Jesus keeps pulling the cover away. The one we call Lord kneels with a towel and basin. The one with all authority becomes a servant of all. The risen Christ sends Mary Magdalene to announce the resurrection. The Spirit falls on sons and daughters. Paul's churches include women who prophesy, teach, serve as deacons, host congregations, fund ministry, and risk their lives for the gospel. And maybe that's the deeper biblical vision. Not men over women, not women over men, but a new creation where gifts are welcomed, domination is unmasked, and leadership looks like love. So the problem with biblical manhood is not that it takes the Bible too seriously, it's that it often does not take the whole Bible seriously enough. It takes the texts that preserve hierarchy and treats them as eternal, but it minimizes the women who lead, preach, prophesy, fund, witness, teach, and become the first proclaimers of resurrection. It misses the trajectory. It misses the yeast in the dough. It misses the kingdom breaking open the old world from within. And maybe our task is not to defend every ancient hierarchy in the name of faithfulness. Our task is to keep following Jesus toward freedom, mutuality, and beloved community. The Spirit's been moving us towards all along. A world where women are not diminished. A world where men are not trapped inside brittle strength. A world where no one has to become less human in order to be called faithful. A world where power is converted into service. A world where leadership looks like love. Thanks for listening to the unintentional heretic. Until next time, keep asking questions.