I don’t know about the church you attend, but something struck me as odd a few years ago when I was dropping kids off in their Sunday School classes in our church building. Each child had a designated room, and then there was a larger designated room for the second half of Sunday School where they had music time. I then walked by the woman’s meeting room with its elaborate woodwork, softer chairs, can lighting, and a nice table with a podum and neatly ironed table cloth. When I was done getting everyone to their location, I started to hunt for where the men were that week.
They weren’t up on the stage, not in the first half of the gym. I finally found them in a circle of hard folding chairs in the other half of the gym. Most of the men were tuned out on their phones while the instructor read from the manual, apologizing that he forgot he was teaching that week and hadn’t prepared.
According to the latest statistics in 2021 from the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention, the highest rate of suicide is middle-aged men. In fact, men are 3.9% more likely to take their lives than women. While women are about twice as likely to suffer from depression than men according to the Mayo Clinc, men are more likely to choose an untimely and ultimate conclusion to it.
It struck me as odd that at least in my Church building, the majority of the men not teaching in Sunday School were literal Nomads - no resting place, no designated meeting room. Like Mary’s espoused husband Joseph, seeking for room in an Inn somewhere. Anywhere. Or like Moses of old wandering in the wilderness for 40 years, many of them not understanding that Zion was in the heart and not so much a physical location.
I have been guilty of complaining about this a lot in the past. I kept waiting for someone to do something about it. A new program or direction from leaders. But nothing changed. Around this time I remembered a quote that I now love, but used to hate - “be the change you want to see in this world” by Mahatnau Gandi who was able to overthow Brittish rule of India without a single shot fired.
Dang it. I was going to have to be the one to institute the change. All the feelings of insecurity and inadequacy and judging others for not taking charge had to dissolve away. God was there and ready to help me, I just had to take action.
Early attempts to get men to reach out to each other were difficult to say the least. I often felt like giving up. I spent considerable time with a consistent approach to get them to trust in the process. Since then I’ve run into leadership resistance: “all the programs are in place, men just have to get more involved (which is true, but we must change the motivation.)
That’s when I was schooled by the Holy Spirit as I sat frustrated one Sunday in the pews feeling sorry for myself. He said, “Tell them how much I love them.” I was searching for something really deep, complicated, intricate. Those words washed over me again and again. Sinking deeper into me until I could not dismiss or deny the experience.
“Just tell them that I love them - trust in the process.”
Yes, I had felt forgotten. Many other men feel the same way. But God has not forgotten. As a loving Father He allows us our agency. And He also promises to make up the difference. Christ has said “My Grace is Sufficient.” Full stop. No further explanation. I just have to ask for His Grace and then be willing to step outside of my comfort zone. Love others as He would have me love them. Pray for my eyes to be open to see others as He sees them.
I started with a plan to go to lunch with someone at least once a month if not more often. Later I added in going on morning walks. Then I felt inspired to have a monthly Breakfast Burritos with Bros at my house. In time I challenged the men to not talk about work on a Saturday morning but invited them to talk about what makes their hearts come alive.
I’m very much in the early stages, but as I am looking back on 2023 in preparation for 2024 I can see the introverts being more extroverted. The cautious more courageous. It wasn’t me in the middle like a spoke of a wheel, though I did reach out and invite people to come together. They have each other, and I have them and they have me. But one of us can be removed from the equation and I have faith the brotherhood will continue - or at least a hope it will.
So after decades of complaining that I felt forgotten, now I feel included. Loved. Befriended. All those years I suffered in silence I didn’t realize that the power to change it lay within me. But I had to surrender the old me to Jesus to access that power. I challenge you to do the same.
