My wife and I were at the hospital, awaiting the arrival of our first child. Suddenly, everything changed. The steady beeps of the monitors erupted into frantic alarms; the baby’s vitals had dropped dangerously. Nurses ran in. My wife was rushed away. And just like that, I was alone with worst-case scenarios running through my mind.
For a guy who likes to fix and control things, I had never felt so utterly powerless. There was nothing I could do. No amount of strength, planning, or grit could alter the situation.
But I do remember this: I prayed.
And in that moment of surrender—when I released all my control and leaned fully into God’s, an unexplainable peace came, and I knew Emmanuel was with us.
A healthy, beautiful baby girl did arrive safely. But that day, I also witnessed the birth of God’s power at the end of my own.
When we think of the Nativity story (Luke 2:1-7), we remember a Roman Emperor’s decree, vast angel armies, rugged shepherds, astrologer kings…the Christmas narrative is clothed in scenes of power.
But do we overlook something crucial by focusing mainly on the pomp and circumstance?
The scene is familiar, but most men rarely stop to consider how shocking it is.
The God of the universe, wrapped not in royal robes but rags; placed not in a palace but in a manger. The fact that God is born should still shock us. The omnipresent and omnipotent God becomes small and defenseless. The God who clothes the grass of the fields becomes naked and exposed. The One who holds the universe together needs to be held.
Author Rich Villodas explains: “Though born as a small baby, he is almighty God. This is the mystery—the paradox—of Christianity: God humbled himself and housed his infinite glory in the tiny frame of a child.”[1]
The Nativity is a story of an upside-down Kingdom and offers crucial lessons for men to understand another paradox, a lesson I learned at my daughter’s birth:
That power can arise from powerlessness.
Men can be drawn to the seductions of power, whether as a controlling boss, the strongest in the gym, or a domineering husband, father, or boyfriend. From our superheroes, sports icons, or political leaders, we are often enamored by the rich and powerful, shaping our ideas of manhood.
Power can arise from powerlessness.
Like an antidote to poison, the Nativity offers a hopeful and helpful way to understand power and live counter-culturally by embracing powerlessness.
Here’s how:
Embracing Subversive Power
The Nativity backdrop is an Empire draped in power. Caesar Augustus’ census decree was a power move for more administrative and taxation control, highlighting something significant:
The world’s power operates from the top down.
In contrast, God’s power often comes quietly, from the margins. Jesus comes as a baby, utterly dependent, vulnerable, and exposed. Paul explains that “…when the set time had fully come, God sent his Son…” (Galatians 4:4 NLT). This vulnerability was not a weakness; it was an intentional, subversive, divine strategy.
Powerlessness was planned and intentional.
In our culture, masculinity and power often go hand in hand. Men are to be competent, capable, and in control. We are culturally conditioned to associate power with top-down supremacy, strength, success, and self-sufficiency.
However, in the Nativity, God shows us something radically different:
True power is revealed not from the top down, but from the bottom up.
Men who follow Jesus must embrace vulnerability, humility, and weakness. It takes real men to step into discomfort and surrender power to experience God’s strength. The Nativity invites us to see powerlessness as the birthplace of God’s power.
True power is revealed not from the top down, but from the bottom up.
Demonstrating Serving Power
John’s take on the Nativity has fewer historical details but is theologically rich. He describes the eternal Word who “became flesh and dwelt among us” (John 1:14)—a God who enters our mess, struggles, and humanity to seek, serve, and save.
The Apostle Paul’s Christological hymn describes the Nativity by saying that Jesus “…made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness” (Philippians 2:7 NLT). The Greek word translated as “made himself nothing” (kenosis) means “emptying.” Imagine the scandal of a God who willingly empties Himself of divine privilege, choosing self-emptying love, not self-protecting dominance.
This must have been almost unfathomable and unrecognizable compared to the power displayed by the Roman Empire.
Many men try to fill their lives through growing their ego, image, and resume, but Jesus shows God’s strength in laying down, not powering up. Servant power involves giving up our rights for the good of others, letting go of our platform and position, and losing our lives for the sake of the Gospel. It is demonstrated by men who listen before speaking, confess sin instead of hiding, ask for help instead of pretending to have it all together, and lead by serving, not status.
Practicing Stewarding Power
The Nativity also demonstrated stewardship of power for the good of others. Listen to Jesus’ own words: “For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” (Mark 10:45 NLT)
The great theological work Spider-Man (wink!) contains the famous line, “With great power comes great responsibility.” It highlights a not-so-fictional wisdom that power should be used for the sake of others. God entrusts men with power for Kingdom purposes, not personal gain. Power isn’t bad, but can be dangerous if used only for oneself. It’s a gift from God and a responsibility.
Stewarding power demonstrates transformational other-centeredness. Godly power doesn’t impose, fight, or harm. Instead, godly men give power away to empower those closest to them and use their influence for the flourishing and benefit of others.
Male power at its worst can be toxic, misogynistic, controlling, or abusive; at its best, it is safe, healing, protective, empathetic, and empowering.
Becoming Powerful Powerless Men
The Nativity calls men to follow Jesus’s counter-cultural way. It’s an upside-down Kingdom where He saves by becoming small, conquers by surrender, wins by dying, and reigns by serving.
The Nativity is revolutionary, not sentimental. It shows that God’s Kingdom grows through humility, love, weakness, and vulnerability, not bravado or force.
Men who live this way become powerful men, not through dominance but through the irony of embracing powerlessness as a pathway to Christlikeness.
The Nativity is revolutionary, not sentimental.
Practically speaking, what does this kind of manly strength look like today?
- Choosing integrity even when it costs something.
- Embracing vulnerability with those closest to us.
- Being secure in our identity and a safe space for those around us.
- Prioritizing others over our own prominence and platforms.
- Trusting God as our Source of strength, especially when ours is failing.
Jesus’ words to Paul are significant: “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore, Paul said, “I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.” (2 Corinthians 12:9-10 NLT)
A humble manger invites every man to lay down false strength and receive real strength through the paradox of the One who became powerless and who is our omnipotent God.
Rich Villodas concludes: “When God entered the world in the person of Jesus, he came in the most surprising and subversive method possible. In coming as an infant, unarmed and vulnerable, he established the way of the kingdom from the onset. The kingdom is not characterized by fear, self-interest, or violence; it’s defined by vulnerable trust and supernatural love. This love isn’t passive or weak. Rather, Jesus came to disarm Herod and the ways of his violent kingdom. Though love does not use force through violence, as it silently infiltrates the world, it is an unstoppable force.”
In a world craving “good news of great joy,” may God’s men be an unstoppable force that delivers and lives it.
[1] Waiting for Jesus, 33-34.
[2] Waiting for Jesus, 48.
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