My dear Globdrop,

Excuse my prolonged absence. Works darker and more disgraceful arrived on my doorstep. The agency needed to issue a cease and desist, let’s call it — a resistless commission. I return to your misshapen mount of letters stacked upon my desk, with more vice and vitriol than ever.

From the few entreaties I survived this afternoon, it appears much has transpired — little for the better. Your man is married, is he? To a Christian, no doubt. And in my absence, he began — no, wait, here it is — he graduated from an unapproved training facility. Of all things, nephew. Am I to report you as a double agent?

Your man “aspires for ministry”; let’s begin here. As you know, several types of shepherd meet the approval of our Headquarters. Our favorite, no doubt, wins the Enemy’s protest, “You eat the fat, you clothe yourselves with the wool, you slaughter the fat ones, but you do not feed the sheep” (Ezekiel 34:3). A demon’s glory, Globdrop, winged upon undying sneers of howls: to create a shepherd who enjoys lambchop and wool socks.

But given your archery of late, you must aim at a bigger target. If not feasting on the flock, then he at least must be unarmed and unwilling to guide or protect her. Softer than ewe’s fleece, he must think it amiss that he would be required to confront anyone — whether other shepherds or sheep or wolves or robbers. He must never goad straying sheep or strike at bears, never raise his tone or lift the rod. Paint him in green pastures with warm colors and carefree expressions — no wanderers or predators or violence.

But I’m guessing you have already enrolled him in N.I.C.E.?

N.I.C.E.

It appears not.

Honestly, Globdrop, you will not last the century if you can’t manage your wits at the front line. You should have enrolled him in the N.I.C.E. program years ago. This is for all of the Enemy’s cows, but especially the males.

Commit the fourfold essentials of N.I.C.E. to your quaking mind immediately.

Nestle

Smooth shepherds stand in high demand, fitting especially well with this generation’s chief end: the self. Liberated from the chains of “objective truth,” they are self-made and self-making. No objective “me” — vulnerable to the opinions of others — exists. To disapprove of or contradict someone’s self or chosen path is a high offense — how can anyone else know what’s best for me? Disagreement, dear nephew, is dead. Assert your truth on anyone else, and you declare war on a sovereign state.

Do you fault an Enemy’s man, then, for being susceptible to speak that singular message of our favorite wartime pastors of old: “Peace, peace”? Why Paul would warn of ravenous wolves from without and perverse teachers from within, he cannot tell. Compelling speech — beat it into his head — is never confrontational speech. His staff is a mere walking stick. Let the straying or snarling or sleeping damned lie, undisturbed.

Impress

Once his speech is sanded, smooth it further. If your man becomes “helpful” because of his soft words and silken tone (even to a few), let him hear the good news immediately. This, in turn, tenders him to criticism and reinforces his own reluctance to offer anything else. Let him leave his neighbor with spinach in his teeth or a log in his eye or idols in his heart.

At first, he may resist the temptation, it is true. But how quietly do we turn the rudder of crude words like “godliness” into “the appearance of godliness”? “The Enemy’s ministry” into “my ministry”? He may think he asks, What does the Enemy say? But under all this, the quiet and fragile purr: Will everyone be happy with me? Will they be impressed?

Confess

What surgeon refuses his scalpel, what demon his darts — and will your man really lay down the Enemy’s blade or his staff? He will. For to do so is humility, after all. Behold the puppet show.

The rule runs thus: he must never operate on sins that haven’t scarred him. Nathan told David, “You are the man!” — without having stolen any poor man’s sheep. He spent no time confessing his many faults to keep he and the sinner on level plane. Not so with modern Nathans. Hear him, after blurting his many sins, bashfully suggest, “And maybe . . . I’m not certain, but just possibly — and don’t take this the wrong way — but you could be the man . . . well, a man, really. . . . But of course, we all are . . . I especially.”

It must remain the height of arrogance to help someone out of a pit one hasn’t first lived in. Reproving uncommitted sin is worse than the sin committed. Seriously, nephew, how can any man tell a woman what she cannot “do with her own body”? This is the kind of lowliness we support.

Emasculate

In summary, desex his teaching. We have worked tirelessly to train this generation to despise language associated with the male sex . . . gender . . . thing. Direct speech, forceful speech is always naughty speech. Shave the chest, blunt the blade. Think apes in the circus: cap his head and teach him to juggle.

Make the general’s cry, the trumpet blast, the call to arms seem excessive, aggressive, impolite. Such naked conversation is most irregular, improper, and ungentlemanly. Not to mention proud. He may share but never preach. “Thus saith the Lord” reeks of ancient bigotries and that old sock of patriarchy. Concerning their tongues, we still remember, and agree with, Paul’s exclamation: “I wish those who unsettle you would emasculate themselves!” (Galatians 5:12) — though we would never speak this crudely, of course.

Brunch with the Queen

Visualize his Christian life and “ministry” as a sunny afternoon sipping tea with the queen. Remind him to keep good posture, mind his manners, and not talk warfare at the table — pinky finger out. Oh, he is still a soldier — no denying that. Look at that clean, creased uniform, that sharp, pointy sword tucked neatly at his side. Those sewn-on badges nearly blind us in the sun! This polite man requests our admiration — and fear, even — we must render honor its due.

But what of the prophets, apostles, and the Enemy himself, you wonder? So few today seem to ask. Rascals of the old guard threw spears at our training. Rabid tongues of men like Paul, John the Baptist, Peter, Elijah, and the Enemy himself lashed out against our rules of decorum — so we silenced them.

Style him our kind of N.I.C.E. — more the smiling mannequin than man or minister. Make him shrink back before the bleat of the sheep’s and goat’s displeasure and refuse the unpleasant work of warning, correcting, or laying down his own life. There exists a broader, kinder, easier way. If he ever suspects cowardice, let him censure the dead.

Your returned savior,

Grimgod

In all likelihood, no song had ever touched the walls of this cell or drifted through its bars. Moaning, cursing, yelling — these were the usual sounds rising from the dark heart of the prison. Not singing.

And especially not at midnight. Here was the hour of gloom, the first long hallway in the mansion of night, darkness without the faintest shade of dawn.

The other prisoners couldn’t mistake the sound. Some had woken under the strange melody, certain they were lost in a dream. Others, catching the first notes, lay wondering whether madness had seized the two men. It had seized many a man in chains before. These, however, were not the howling strains of the mad.

Midnight made its lonely march, and still the men went on: beaten, bloodied, cuffed — and singing.

How Could They Sing?

The events of that day make the song of Paul and Silas all the more surprising. A mob had attacked the two missionaries after Paul cast out a demon from a slave girl (Acts 16:16–21). The city magistrates, dispensing with due process, stripped the men and oversaw their public beating before delivering them to the city’s jailer, who “put them into the inner prison and fastened their feet in the stocks” (Acts 16:24).

Darkness fell, and then that strange sound rose:

About midnight Paul and Silas were praying and singing hymns to God, and the prisoners were listening to them. (Acts 16:25)

Praying we can fathom. Who among us would not cry out for deliverance from such an unjust dungeon? Yet Paul and Silas not only prayed, but sang. They tuned their heartache with a hymn, and met the darkness of midnight with a melody.

And as they did, they joined a great chorus of saints who sung by faith and not by sight. They joined King Jehoshaphat, who walked into war with praises rising (2 Chronicles 20:20–21). They joined Jeremiah, who gave his most bitter lamentation a tune (Lamentations 1–5). They joined psalmist after psalmist who, though feeling afflicted and forgotten, raised a “song in the night” (Psalm 77:6).

Again and again, the saints of God meet sorrow not only with prayer, but with song. So what did Paul and Silas see that freed their hearts to sing?

‘Our God still reigns.’

From one perspective, Paul and Silas’s day was a picture of perfect mayhem. Their spiritual power was slandered; their gospel trampled by a mob; their innocence silenced by injustice. They appeared like two victims caught in the chaos of a merciless, purposeless world.

But such was not their perspective. For Paul and Silas, all the day’s sorrows rested in the hand of a sovereign God. God had called them to Philippi through a midnight vision (Acts 16:9–10). Was he now any less sovereign in a midnight prison? God had used them in Philippi to save Lydia and her household (Acts 16:11–15). Had he discarded them now? No, prison could neither thwart the plans of God nor remove them from his sight; of this they were sure.

Years later, locked in yet another jail, Paul reminds the Philippian church of God’s surprising sovereignty:

I want you to know, brothers, that what has happened to me has really served to advance the gospel, so that it has become known throughout the whole imperial guard and to all the rest that my imprisonment is for Christ. (Philippians 1:12–13)

God had taught Paul and Silas to see his good purposes wherever they looked, even when they looked through the bars of a prison cell. And he taught them not only to see those purposes, but to sing of them. And so he does with us.

“Songs send rhythm and order, harmony and progression into the suffering we do not yet understand.”

Even apart from the words, the very act of singing in sorrow defies the unbelief that would see no meaning in such pain. Songs send rhythm and order, harmony and progression into the suffering we do not yet understand — and so they testify, even in our deepest confusion, that our God still reigns.

‘Our God will deliver.’

If God reigns, then he can also rescue, no matter how protected the prison or how fast the chains. “Suddenly,” in the middle of Paul and Silas’s song, “there was a great earthquake, so that the foundations of the prison were shaken. And immediately all the doors were opened, and everyone’s bonds were unfastened” (Acts 16:26). The Philippian authorities did not know, it seems, that the God of Paul and Silas had once shattered a prison far stronger than theirs.

Notice, however, that the men sang not after God shook the earth, but before. Why? Because they had rooted their deepest joys in a deeper deliverance. Consider what the imprisoned Paul goes on to write to his Philippian brothers:

Yes, and I will rejoice, for I know that through your prayers and the help of the Spirit of Jesus Christ this will turn out for my deliverance, as it is my eager expectation and hope that I will not be at all ashamed, but that with full courage now as always Christ will be honored in my body, whether by life or by death. (Philippians 1:18–20)

Paul knows God will deliver him — but the deliverance he hopes for rests on something deeper than “life or . . . death.” What kind of deliverance does he have in mind? Not first and foremost deliverance from sorrow, but deliverance from dishonoring Christ in his sorrow. Whether freed or chained, exonerated or executed, Paul was sure of this: by the Spirit’s power, “Christ will be honored in my body.” Therefore, he says, “I will rejoice” — and even sing.

God can deliver us from the sorrows that wrap round us like chains. He can heal diseases, restore relationships, save loved ones, and bury depression once for all. Yes, he can, and we rightly pray that he would. But we need something greater than deliverance from our sorrows — we need deliverance from dishonoring him in our sorrows. And in Christ, this is the deliverance he ultimately promises us here. So in every lonely midnight, we can sing of certain rescue: whether with a sound or broken body, whether in happiness or heartache, whether through life or death, sorrow will not steal our satisfaction in Christ.

“One day, we will sing to Jesus, unchained from every sorrow. Today, we sound his worth by singing even in our chains.”

One day, we will sing to Jesus, unchained from every sorrow. Today, we sound his worth by singing even in our chains.

‘Someone is listening.’

As Paul and Silas prayed and sang, Luke tells us, “the prisoners were listening to them” (Acts 16:25). Perhaps they listened with annoyance, perhaps with surprise, perhaps even with wonder. Whatever the case, they listened. And soon, another person joins their song.

Once God shakes the prison, opens the doors, and unfastens the chains, the jailer falls down before Paul and Silas. “Sirs, what must I do to be saved?” (Acts 16:30). Paul and Silas reply, “Believe in the Lord Jesus.” Believe in the Savior worth singing to in sorrow. Believe in the Christ who gives midnight songs. Believe in the Lord who reigns and rescues. And so we read, “He rejoiced along with his entire household” (Acts 16:34). A new house sang Paul and Silas’s song.

Luke doesn’t tell us whether the jailer himself had heard the men singing, but the point is incidental. He could sense the men had singing hearts. And so with us: whether our literal songs reach the ears of others or not, they will hear what kind of hearts we have. Our friends and family, coworkers and neighbors will hear the difference between an inner grumble and a melody, between a sufferer caved in on himself and one who, miraculously, lifts his voice to God and his hand to others.

Everyone in the world knows something of sorrow. And oh how desperately they need to hear how God can fill our sorrows with song.

Suffer with Him in Song

Those who sing with Paul and Silas join a great chorus of saints, from Jehoshaphat and Jeremiah to Asaph and David. But the greatest in that chorus is Jesus.

On the night of his betrayal, after he had broken the bread and shared the cup, after he had washed his disciples’ feet and handed their hearts to the Father, he led the twelve in singing a hymn (Mark 14:26). He sent a melody into the darkest night; he wrapped his sorrow with a song. Nor did he stop singing, even as the mob cried “Crucify!” and injustice pierced his hands and feet. As he hung on the cross, he bled Psalms (Matthew 27:46; Luke 23:46; John 19:28).

Singing in sorrow, then, is one more way God conforms us to the image of his beloved Son. Here, as we suffer with him in song, Jesus teaches us to say, “Our God still reigns. Our God will deliver. And someone needs to hear of his surpassing worth.”

In my son’s first wrestling tournament, he was dominant. His preparation and good coaching were evident, as he pinned every opponent and won every match — that is, with one exception: a forfeiture.

The brackets were established by dividing the wrestlers on the basis of weight and age, with even some consideration given to experience. But one criterion considered inconsequential or nonexistent was that of biological sex. So, when my son was assigned to wrestle a girl, he forfeited the match. My wife and I had determined this course of action before the occasion arose. Even though, in the moment, my heart was inclined just to let him wrestle her, I gently explained to my young and highly competitive son why the nobler course of action was forfeiture.

Since that time, I have been burdened to explain my rationale to other brothers and sisters who might be facing some of the same pressures. In a world that is very confused regarding gender, sex, athletics, and fairness, I want to share the reasons I gave my son for why boys don’t wrestle against girls. Ultimately, it’s not because we think less of girls or their ability — it’s because we are committed to a way of life that honors women and seeks to develop reflexes of protection rather than dominance.

Because Boys and Girls Are Different

Though controversial these days, the truth that boys and girls are different is on the very first pages of Genesis, and that assumption runs throughout the Bible. Yes, boys and girls are equally made in the image of God (Genesis 1:27) and equally in need of salvation in Jesus Christ (Romans 3:23–25; Galatians 3:28). That equality, however, does not erase the fundamental created distinctions between boys and girls.

I don’t think most parents who allow their girls to wrestle boys have erased the idea of sexual differences in their minds. They know that girls are different from boys. But some parents seem to have subtly bought into and thus propagated the modern lie that “you can be anything that you want to be.” Against this claim, we assert, “In the image of God he created him; male and female he created them” (Genesis 1:27).

Because Boys Should Relate Differently to Girls

Scripture and biology make the physical differences between boys and girls obvious. Less obvious — and sometimes less convenient — are the distinct ways we should relate to one another as a consequence of our sex. Some Christians acknowledge the seemingly undeniable differences between boys and girls, but then they hesitate to extend those distinctions into actions and relationships. While it might raise the ire of many, I am teaching my son (and my daughters) that God created them to relate differently to the opposite sex.

At the wrestling meet, another father shared the advice he gave to his son in preparation for wrestling a girl: “Son, you can’t treat her like a girl. You’ve got to think of her like a boy, and go out there and be aggressive.” I don’t think this father was operating from ill will or a deliberate attempt to deny distinctions of sex, but his advice illustrates the problem of confusing those distinctions. He counseled his son to act contrary to reality, as if the girl were someone she is not. He counseled his son to unthink his right understanding of sex distinctions.

As Christians, we know that male and female are more than just a box checked on a birth certificate or marriage license. In God’s wisdom, he created differences of sex to be relational in nature, helping us to interact with one another rightly. But what are some of those distinctions in relationships?

Because Boys Should Honor and Protect Girls

A commonly implied and often explicit command in Scripture is for men to honor and protect women in their spheres, beginning with the family (Ephesians 5:25–33) and extending to the nation (Joshua 1:14). Abraham’s cowardice is on display when he exploits his wife rather than protecting her. To some degree, his sin of deception pales in comparison to his abandonment of protection. Shockingly, Isaac repeats this abandonment a generation later. In contrast, the men of Israel march off to war to protect their nation and families. It would have been unthinkable for them to send their wives, sisters, and daughters into battle.

“When we deny the distinctions between boys and girls, we exploit rather than protect women.”

The disposition to protect is both ingrained and nurtured in our sons’ minds and actions. They need our help to cultivate the mature manhood that calls them to prize and honor the women they encounter. When we deny the distinctions between boys and girls, we exploit rather than protect women.

Many people today wave the yellow flag that acknowledging any difference between boys and girls will lead to girls being mistreated and oppressed. The assumption is that acknowledging differences undermines equality. On the contrary, I am teaching my son that a boy’s physical strength is not for dominating a girl, but rather for protecting her. In fact, this emphasis seems truly countercultural in an environment rampant with abuse: one’s strength is for elevating, not suppressing, others.

Wrestling with Objections

When I went to the scorer’s table to report that my son would be forfeiting the match, I anticipated some anger and frustration. What surprised me was the surprise. Those at the table were puzzled, as if they thought, Haven’t we moved beyond that? Then the objections started flowing.

But they are prepubescent kids.

My argument is not primarily about sexual arousal, although that would strengthen my position as kids mature. My argument is about a fundamental created distinction and a biblical call to treat women with dignity and honor. The need to instill appropriate patterns of relationship does not begin at puberty, although it does become more obvious at that stage.

What about other sports?

The position I’m describing does have implications for other sports, but perhaps we could recognize a few clear distinctions. There is a difference between the physical dominance expressed in wrestling and racing someone to the finish line in track. The expression of physical dominance and the danger to the other contestant are not present in track. So I might not object as strongly to some co-ed athletics.

But your son is the one who loses, not you.

“My goal is to train my son to stand with conviction, even when it’s costly.”

It is true and regrettable that my son is the one who has the loss on his record, and his peers might look at him differently. But my goal is to train my son to stand with conviction, even when it’s costly. While he’s still in our home, I can gently shepherd, comfort, and train him for the larger sacrifices that will inevitably come his way.

Prizing Honor Over Victory

I do not intend to come across as judgmental toward parents who would allow their girls to wrestle boys or their boys to wrestle girls. I simply want to call us all to live in light of Scripture. As Christian parents, we cannot affirm the erosion of distinctions between boys and girls. We must not teach our daughters that it is normal to be subdued by a boy, nor teach our boys that it is normal to subdue a girl.

Rather, we should affirm God’s good purposes by teaching that he created humans in his image, either male or female, and his design has implications for how we relate to one another. I think most parents who register their girls to wrestle boys are acting with a genuine desire for their girls’ good, but they have a flawed and misguided sense of good. In that sense, their actions and consciences need to be recalibrated in line with biblical authority.

So, what might we say to our sons for why boys don’t wrestle girls? “We don’t wrestle girls because God calls men to honor and protect women, and I am raising you to be a man. Yes, it will cost you to act with conviction. And I am so thankful that I get to walk alongside you as you grow into manhood.”