I’m a dad. I have three children—all boys. Raising my boys is a responsibility I take seriously. But as I reflect on the ideals I hope to instil in my sons—respect, kindness, gentleness and strength—I am confronted by a pressing challenge.
In today’s society, both secular and religious, there are conflicting ideas about what it means to be a man. For some it is to be dominant and powerful where for others it is to be a protector and provider. These ideas often clash with the teachings of Jesus, like “turn the other cheek” or “go the second mile”, which many might perceive as weak or non masculine.
There are conflicting ideas about what it means to be a man
Adding to the pressure of raising boys is the controversy around toxic masculinity, resisting the patriarchy and the “Me Too” movement. How can our view of God the Father, whose image I try as a Christian to model in my own fatherhood, impact the way we raise our boys; and how can we reject the negative ideas embodied by modern masculinity?
God’s dual nature
As I navigate these complexities, I am struck by the dual nature of God’s character revealed in Scripture. In the beginning of the Bible, God is portrayed as both powerful and relational—two aspects essential for shaping the kind of father I strive to be and the kind of men I hope to raise.
In Genesis 1:1, God is introduced as Elohim: “In the beginning when God [Elohim] . . .”, a title emphasising His transcendent power and sovereign authority over all creation. God speaks the universe into existence from nothing—ex nihilo—with just a word. He is the Creator, the Prime Mover, the Initiator and His creative work is marked each day by goodness. Elohim is the primary word used for God by the writers of the Hebrew Scriptures (occurring more than 2700 times).
It is a plural word. As a plural in form it can refer to pagan deities, in which case it is translated “gods” (eg Exodus 12:12; 20:3), or as the God of Israel. Many scholars believe the plural form is used to signify a deep reverence, even mystery, around the nature of the One God. It wouldn’t be until the second century AD that the doctrine of the Trinity would be established. Nevertheless, the relational aspect of Elohim is hinted at in Genesis 1:26,27. “Let us make humankind in our image . . . male and female He created them” (italics added).
Then, in Genesis 2, we encounter YHWH,1 the Lord God, who is portrayed not just as Creator, but as one who desires relationship with humanity. The name YHWH emphasises a covenantal God who walks with Adam and Eve in the Garden, who is personally involved in the affairs of His creation. He desires to be with Adam and Eve, then with Israel and with all humanity. This shift from the transcendent Creator to the relational God highlights the fullness of His character. God is not distant or detached, but deeply invested in the lives of those He has made.
wise partner
As a father, I find this balance between authority and relationship crucial. Just as God is sovereign and loving, my role as a father is not to rule with dominance or indifference, but with a blend of strength and gentleness. I must guide my children with wisdom and respect but also nurture them with love and care. Even how I understand “authority” adjusts in the light of God the Father. God embodies servant leadership, not executing authority as a dictator but as a wise partner committed to human freedom.
This understanding of God’s dual nature—transcendent and relational—becomes even more significant when we compare the Genesis account to other ancient creation stories. In the Enuma Elish, the Babylonian creation epic, the god Marduk achieves his kingship through violent conquest. Marduk defeats Tiamat, the goddess of chaos, in a fierce battle and from her dismembered body, he creates the world. This creation story is built on a foundation of brutality and power.
In contrast, the creation account in Genesis presents a God whose reign is not established through violence—but through His word and will. The rivers Tigris and Euphrates, mentioned in the Enuma Elish as flowing from Tiamat’s dying eyes, flow in Genesis from the life-giving Garden of Eden. God creates not from chaos but from love, purpose and order. His rule is not gained through violence but by virtue of His inherent sovereignty and goodness.
This contrast between the savage Marduk and the loving God of Genesis reveals something essential about God’s character: His sovereignty is not achieved through destruction—but through creation. He is powerful, but His power is exercised in service of love and life. This is the kind of father I hope to be—a father whose strength is tempered by tenderness and whose leadership flows from love, not fear.
an imperfect dad
As a father, I am also keenly aware of the way my own brokenness distorts my understanding of God and how I can thus pass this distortion on to my children. Theologian CS Lewis wrote, “The instrument through which you see God is your whole self. And if a man’s self is not kept clean and bright, his glimpse of God will be blurred.” This truth resonates with me, especially as I consider my role in raising my sons. How I live before them, how I treat their mother, how I manage my own emotions, how I carry myself, how I respond to difficulty—all of these things shape their perception of God the Father. If I am harsh, demanding, distant or retaliatory, my children may struggle to see God as loving and merciful. But if I reflect His kindness, patience and gentleness, they will begin to understand the nature of God’s Fatherhood more clearly.
The instrument through which you see God is your whole self. And if a man’s self is not kept clean and bright, his glimpse of God will be blurred.
In a world marred by evil and brokenness, it’s difficult to see the complete goodness of God. Just as the sun can both warm and burn, God’s goodness is often obscured by suffering and hardship. The biblical narrative reveals this truth well and we see it in stories of great beauty, but also in ones of great turmoil. It’s as if the Bible writers themselves struggled with the picture of God they were creating.
Yet, the image of a good father can be a powerful corrective. I long for my sons to see in me a reflection of God’s true nature.
In the book of Jonah, we see a great example of God’s merciful nature. Jonah is sent to Nineveh to proclaim God’s judgement against the city. Archaeology confirms the biblical witness to the wickedness of the Assyrians. They were well-known in the ancient world for brutality and cruelty. However when the people repent, God shows them mercy. Jonah, angered by this unexpected grace, complains, “I knew that you are a gracious and compassionate God, slow to anger and abounding in love, a God who relents from sending calamity” (Jonah 4:2).
Jonah’s frustration with God’s mercy reveals the tension between human ideas of justice and God’s grace. Jonah expected God to act like the violent gods of other cultures, who punished their enemies without mercy. He almost looked forward to it. But God, in His wisdom and love, chose to show compassion instead.
the best model
I want to raise my sons to understand that true masculinity is not about dominance, control or the ability to defeat others, but about strength that is rooted in love and service. God the Father is the ultimate model of this strength. His sovereignty is not based on His ability to conquer, but on His nature as the Creator and Sustainer of life. He’s a God who desires to walk with His children in relationship.
As I guide my boys into manhood, my prayer is that they will come to know God the Father as He truly is: “just and holy, merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love and faithfulness”. I hope they will see in me a reflection of that same character, and that through my example, they will grow into men who understand that true strength lies in compassion, humility and love. I also pray that they will forgive me when I fall short and will find true relationship with their Father in heaven—their true Father, and mine.
1. Modern scholars believe the closest pronunciation to be “Yah-way”, hence its popular spelling “Yahweh”.
