Guest Series from Pastor Rich Lusk
How does the blessed man in Psalm 128 relate to Jesus? Since Jesus must be our measure of manhood, do we see him reflected in the blessed man of Psalm 128? Or does Jesus give us an altogether different view of manhood and masculinity?
At first glance, it may seem that Jesus and the blessed man of Psalm 128 have little in common. Jesus remained single and childless; the blessed man is married with kids, and, ultimately, grandkids. Jesus never had a place to lay his head; the blessed man seems quite prosperous, with a table, food, and a home of his own. Finally, in the climax of his earthly ministry, Jesus seems to be weak and helpless as he is crucified; meanwhile, the blessed man seems strong, competent, confident, and prosperous. In one sense, Jesus lacks the status the blessed man possesses. The blessed man seems decidedly more manly, while Jesus looks weak and unattractive.
But perhaps the contrast is not so great. After all, Jesus does take a bride — the church. Through her, he raises up children — new believers. In the resurrection, Jesus is made Lord of lords and King of kings. All authority, power, and status belong to him. He now has a table over which he presides — the Eucharist — and there he feeds his family the fruit of his labors. The risen Christ has everything the blessed man has, and more. He becomes The Dominion Man — the man who rules over the very earth from which man was made. And indeed, when we look closely at the gospel accounts, we find that even when Jesus was put on trial and then taken away to be crucified, he remained in complete control of the situation. Jesus’ life was not taken from him; he laid it down. He did not die against his will, but willingly, enduring the shame for the joy set before him. He died because it was necessary to fulfill his Father’s plan. He goes to the cross like a warrior who willingly volunteers to die that others may live. But such an act reveals true strength. Indeed, it transforms our understanding of strength — and therefore of masculinity.
On the cross, Jesus might look like the epitome of weakness, a failed man, and a failed messiah. But in reality, he is acting in infinite strength to save the world. The cross is actually his coronation. He is “lifted up ” — exalted, enthroned — on the tree so that he might draw his bride to himself, a bride that will be formed out the blood and water flowing from his side. In the same moment, he is dying at the “Place of the Skull, he is crushing the skull of the serpent under his feet. He shows us a new kind of manhood, one hinted at before but now foregrounded — a man defined by self-giving and sacrificial love, a man who lays down his life to protect and provide, and a man who looks foolish though he embodies infinite wisdom. This man seems weak even as he conquers the world in love, a man who rules through service and who ushers in his kingdom through a cross.
It is very clear particularly in the gospel of John that Jesus is actually in control of all the proceedings from his arrest to his death. He is not a helpless victim but a powerful victor, making certain events unfold according to plan (the fulfilled prophecies along the way underscore that everything in unfolding according to a script). The details in John’s account affirm he is the Sovereign Sufferer.
When Pilate said, “Behold the man,” he was speaking more truly than he knew. This is The Man — the true man, showing true manliness. In a twist of irony, we find this is what blessed manhood really looks like — a man giving all he has for the sake of his bride, a man laying down his life to save his friends, a man losing his life that he may find greater and more glorious life on the other side.
In Mark 15, just as he dies, the Roman centurion confesses him as Son of God, which is a royal title. So far from seeing him as unmasculine because of how he died, the centurion confesses him to be the model man, a ruling man. The cross really is an enthronement and an act of power. No, not everyone saw it that way; not all are given eyes to see. But Jesus was clearly sovereign over his death and even the very moment of his death. He only died when he chose to give up his Spirit. The centurion, who no doubt had seen many crucifixions, had never seen anyone die in this way. It was the ultimate strength amid utter weakness. It was strength disguised as weakness.
