By Jim Nichols

It was an argument on Facebook if you can imagine such a thing. Someone had posted these two words “Toxic Masculinity” and was wondering what people meant when they used them. It is not an uncommon phrase it seems. 

Ah-Ha—that was the question. Is this a two-word phrase that should be read as one meaning? That is, do the two words act together almost as a noun? Or, instead, is the word “toxic” an adjective describing a certain type of masculinity (the noun)? That suggestion is that not all masculinity is toxic, but some of it can be.

As the Facebook comments unfolded, it was clear that some assumed one meaning and some assumed the other. Those who put the two together frequently sounded as if they were female writers who had had terrible experiences with males in general. They seemed to be writing, “All males are toxic; it is just the way they are.” The rebuttals countered that to include all males in the toxic category was unfair and incorrect; many examples of “non-toxic” males were given. 

Author Joan Chittister (For Everything a Season) was not part of this Facebook exchange, but she touches on it when she uses the term “false masculinity.” She parallels this with an over-rationalization that has, for example, guided the judgments of the church and justified policies of governments. This is not exclusively a male contribution, but historically leans heavily that direction. She notes the generally aggressive character of the corporate world and uses the striking phrase “suicidal militarism” of governments to suggest that masculinity has been mis-identified as simply power. That is a false form of masculinity, she proposes.

Her argument continues that modern society has fallen into the trap of too strong an emphasis on individualism and independence; autonomy is deeply prized, and it is destroying our sense of community.

Looking at this topic through Christian eyes, there is much to understand here. Compassion, gentleness, kindness, and helpfulness are not the most apparent qualities of modern life—competition, winning, individualism, and one-up-man-ship are the leadership qualities we seek and, frankly, we aspire to personally. I do not believe God is pleased with this. 

When I was a boy, I got haircuts at the Varsity barbershop in town; it was where all the cool guys went. I never saw one female there except for a mother bringing in her son and leaving him. It was the most “male place” I went. My mother and sisters, on the other hand, went to the beauty shop for a trim; it would never have occurred to me to have a woman cut my hair.

I do not know when getting a haircut became a dual gender event, but women have now almost exclusively cut my hair for decades. It seemed odd at first, but I got used to it. 

As a hospice chaplain, I was consistently moved by the nurses and aides reporting that, during a home visit, they had washed the hair or trimmed the nails of a patient, both males and females. Often the nurses would paint the nails of their female patients.

Have you ever painted someone else’s fingernails—or toenails? The latter, especially, is stunningly close to washing the person’s feet. This, of course, is something Jesus commands us to do and we conveniently ignore because it seems too weird.

Washing feet in Jesus’ time was common, but he effectively taught that it is not a theologically neutral event. We might ask if there are such things as being “theologically neutral.”

Pushing that idea further, perhaps we need to see the theological aspects of many of our activities. Serious listening to the comments of another should be a theological event; you are validating me as a person with worthwhile thoughts. Weeping with another person is clearly theological; when are we more vulnerable than when we are crying with someone? Can we talk about the spirituality of embrace, whether physical or emotional? Sanctifying feelings may be the antithesis of false masculinity (or even false humanness). 

We have been told to turn the other cheek. We have been told that the greatest of these is love. Can we risk that? Do we believe that?

Jim Nichols is a retired Abilene Christian University biology professor and current hospital chaplain