“_{Surely it is the one who fears he is wrong who avoids criticism.
The one who is sure he is right invites it. It only illuminates the strength
of beliefs and makes them more available to others.”
― David L. Wolfe, Epistemology: The Justification of Belief}

I learned a new phrase over the weekend, a friend sent it to me, “White Male Fragility.” She said it’s all the rage in counseling world — yes, she’s a counselor. “Oh, cool,” I thought, “I’m already digging the sound of it.” She then forwarded an op-ed piece from Rex Huppke of the Chicago Tribune that delved deeper, Column: Bret Stephens, Donald Trump and the epidemic of male fragility. Yessir, I knew there was some meaty discourse available in there. The launch point for the piece centers on David Karpf, an associate professor of media and public affairs at George Washington University, who tweeted that Bret Stephens is a “bedbug.” You can read the rest, but there’s a whole other tangent of how something minor catches flame and burns down the media house.

The issue revolves around our insecurities — a weakness — not to be mistaken for vulnerability — a sign of strength. We bow up and get all outta sorts over the slightest affront, and even that’s too strong a word. As Huppke touches on, we demand apologies for teeny little hangnails of disagreements. There’s a difference between character assassination and slander, compared to public figures being disagreed with, and someone using sarcasm to make a point.

It’s a minefield for sure, and intent, intelligence and nuance impact the outcome. Words do matter, and the global awakening of men with how words are used in relation to legitimate issues such as #MeToo, should keep us vigilant. However, being too cautious can make us tepid and half-hearted with our positions, which ultimately affects truth; and truth often stings.

Reminds me of a good friend I had lunch with this week. He often texts me and says, “You ain’t black because… (insert black culture reference)” — yes, he’s black. This results in a slew of back and forth with me saying “Naw, I’m blacker than you because (insert another black culture reference.)” What concerns me is the reality that I hesitate to use this example. “Uh-oh, what if someone misreads and misjudges and thinks I’m insensitive or racist?” Boom, I feel timidity rising, in a bad way. The fact is, he and I have rich conversations because we ask questions with education (and ball-busting humor) as the goal. He knows my heart, I know his. We’re brothers who end each encounter with a hug and “Love you, man” like I do with many men who sharpen and inspire me. Keep in mind, this is where nuance and intelligence play a role: I’ve earned the conversation with him. Nothing worse than a dopey white guy stepping out of his lane and saying something racially insensitive, or gender and sexually insensitive with a woman.

As always, it’s a heart issue. Meaning, if my intent is to cause pain or get a thrill with my words, then my heart is busted, and in need of repair. I likely have a whole other post coming on how comedians feel its their right to offend with a joke because “Hey man, it’s all done in jest.” But that’s words for another day. Back to fragility. If I take a position that contradicts another person’s idea, does that make me insensitive? Is their ego — whether white, black, male or female — too fragile? Or am I bulldozing a point with no regard for the recipient; essentially another form of insecurity masking a need to win? Those are some stormy seas to navigate for sure. As a Christ follower, I have positions deemed offensive to a secular world. While I’ve developed thick skin when discussing matters of faith, I for damn sure have my dainty little places drenched in ego. They’re innocuous in the grand scheme, but if I hear or receive something wrong, I may see it as an affront to my egg-shell fortitude.

Huppke sums up the solution well with this insight below, which could be said another way: lead with humility, don’t be a bully, apologize fast.

_{“This isn’t hard, fellas. Don’t punch down, don’t overreact, admit when you’ve made a mistake, listen to other people and learn from them and stop acting like you’re the only one in the world whose feelings matter.”}

_{— Rex Huppke}

Sheep Among Wolves

Jesus adds another layer to the mix with the scripture below. Taking a position for Christ places a person in the cross-hairs. Not only are you saying Christ stands for a version of truth, you’re saying HE IS TRUTH.

“You will be hated by everyone because of me, but the one who stands firm to the end will be saved.” Matthew 10:22

Will my fragile little weenie ego deny Christ in the face of scrutiny? What if I offend my family and friends by not only standing for belief in Him, but encouraging them to jump on the train? Woo doggie, that is some 800-lb tension. If I care deeply about my friends who don’t care to know, but I believe fervently in the saving grace of Jesus Christ, how can I not broach the subject? Yes it will often offend. If Christ is truth, the pronouncement will sting to hear, no matter how nuanced. Hell, it pummels me at times when I rebel against Him.

Can I balance my delicate insecurities with the withering assault I invite by believing in and sharing faith in Christ? I guess I’ll find my fortitude when I stop checking how many people unsubscribed from the Artistic Lyon list.

See ya next time. ML