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“Andrew Tate’ology” is the Fruit, Not the Root

Let’s get one thing straight: Andrew Tate didn’t create the crisis of masculinity in America. He’s just capitalizing on it. His brand of “toxic masculinity”—built on domination, materialism, and the exploitation of others—isn’t the root of the problem. It’s the bitter fruit of a culture that’s forgotten what true biblical masculinity looks like. As a Christian wrestling with this issue, I’ve come to see that the vacuum of godly male leadership in our homes, churches, and communities has left a generation of men desperate for direction. And when the church fails to disciple men, the world will gladly fill the void with counterfeits.

The Problem: A Crisis of Identity

Modern American culture is drowning in confusion about masculinity. Men are either portrayed as bumbling fools in media, emotionally neutered by a culture that shames strength, or celebrated for aggression and selfish ambition. Enter Andrew Tate, whose “alpha male” persona—complete with bravado, wealth-flaunting, and misogyny—has become a beacon for lost men. But his version of masculinity isn’t revolutionary. It’s a reaction. A reaction to a society that no longer knows how to define manhood through the lens of Scripture.

Where’s the biblical masculinity?
True biblical masculinity isn’t about dominance or flexing power. It’s about sacrificial leadership, humility, and courageous integrity. Consider Jesus, who rebuked His disciples for seeking worldly power (Mark 10:42-45), washed feet, and laid down His life. Or David, a warrior who wept (Psalm 6:6), repented deeply (Psalm 51), and led with a heart for God. Today, though, we see:

  • Absence of servant leadership: Fathers disengaged, husbands passive, men prioritizing careers over character.
  • Emotional detachment: Men taught to suppress grief, fear, or tenderness, reducing them to emotional islands.
  • Moral compromise: Silence in the face of injustice, addiction to porn, and a “win at all costs” mentality.

These gaps create fertile soil for Tate’s message. When men aren’t grounded in Christ-like purpose, they’ll chase whatever makes them feel powerful.

The Root Issue: Where Did We Go Wrong?

The church bears responsibility here. For decades, we’ve watered down discipleship, avoided hard teachings on sin and responsibility, and too often mirrored the world’s values. Consider:

  1. The “Nice Guy” Gospel: Many churches preach a sanitized, risk-averse version of faith that reduces men to “being nice” rather than following a strong Savior. Where are the calls to “act like men” (1 Corinthians 16:13) or to “fight the good fight of faith” (1 Timothy 6:12)?
  2. Fatherlessness: Over 18 million children live without a father in America. Boys raised without godly male role models often seek identity in extremes—either toxic machismo or apathy.
  3. Cultural Captivity: Churches chasing relevance often adopt secular therapies (self-help, pop psychology) over Scripture’s transformative power. We’ve neglected to teach that true strength is found in dependence on God (2 Corinthians 12:10).

Replanting the Roots: A Biblical Blueprint

The solution isn’t to “cancel” Andrew Tate or shame lost men. It’s to reclaim and reassert biblical masculinity. Here’s how:

  1. Teach Men to Embrace Sacred Responsibility
    Adam’s first task was to cultivate and protect the Garden (Genesis 2:15). Biblical men are stewards, not tyrants. Churches must call men to lead in their homes, disciple their children, and defend the vulnerable—not as dictators, but as servants.
  2. Model Emotional and Spiritual Health
    Jesus wept (John 11:35). David danced (2 Samuel 6:14). Paul confessed weakness (2 Corinthians 12:9). Men need safe spaces to express grief, fear, and joy without shame. Small groups, mentorship, and honest preaching can dismantle the lie that vulnerability is weakness.
  3. Restore Moral Courage
    Joseph fled temptation (Genesis 39:12). Daniel refused to compromise (Daniel 1:8). Men today need backbone—not to dominate others, but to stand for truth in a culture of moral relativism. Churches must equip men to reject porn, confront the enemy, and live with integrity.
  4. Fight for Brotherhood
    Jonathan and David’s loyalty (1 Samuel 18:1-4) and Paul’s mentorship of Timothy (2 Timothy 1:2) show that biblical masculinity thrives in community. Churches need brotherhoods where men hold each other accountable, pray together, and sharpen one another (Proverbs 27:17).

Final Thoughts: Uprooting the Toxin

Andrew Tate’s influence is a symptom, not the disease. The cure is a return to the unapologetic, countercultural vision of manhood Scripture provides: men who lead with love, fight for holiness, and find their worth in Christ—not conquests. The church must stop outsourcing discipleship to influencers and start raising up men who look less like “alpha” caricatures and more like Jesus.

It’s time to dig up the root of passivity and compromise and replant the seeds of bold, humble, biblical masculinity. The harvest depends on it.

Persecuted Christians Praying for the American Church

The article “Why North Korean Christians Pray for You,” published by Open Doors, offers a profound glimpse into the spiritual resilience of believers in one of the most oppressive regimes on earth. North Korean Christians, who face unimaginable risks—imprisonment, torture, and even execution—for their faith, are not only enduring persecution but actively interceding for others, including those in nations where religious freedom is protected. This radical obedience to Christ’s command to “pray for those who spitefully use you and persecute you” (Matthew 5:44, NKJV) reflects a depth of faith that transcends circumstances and embodies the countercultural heart of the Gospel. Their prayers, whispered in secret and lifted at great cost, echo the apostolic exhortation to “continue earnestly in prayer, being vigilant in it with thanksgiving” (Colossians 4:2, NKJV), and they invite the global church to reconsider what it means to live—and pray—as citizens of God’s Kingdom.

The biblical narrative is replete with examples of God’s people praying not only for deliverance from suffering but amid suffering, often for the very ones inflicting their pain. When Jesus hung on the cross, His plea for His executioners—“Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they do” (Luke 23:34, NKJV)—established a paradigm for Christian intercession. The North Korean church, though shrouded in secrecy, follows this pattern. Their prayers for believers worldwide, including those in relative safety, mirror the apostle Paul’s prayers for the early church, which often centered not on his own chains but on the spiritual maturity of others: “I do not cease to give thanks for you, making mention of you in my prayers” (Ephesians 1:16, NKJV). This selflessness is born of a theology that sees prayer not as a transactional plea for personal comfort but as participation in Christ’s redemptive work. For these believers, intercession is an act of defiance against the kingdom of darkness, a declaration that their ultimate allegiance lies not with the regime that threatens their bodies but with the Savior who has secured their souls.

The persecuted church’s prayers also reflect a profound understanding of the Body of Christ as a unified, global family. Paul’s metaphor of the church as one body—“if one member suffers, all the members suffer with it” (1 Corinthians 12:26, NKJV)—takes on visceral urgency in the context of North Korea. When believers there pray for their brothers and sisters abroad, they embody the mutual dependence and shared burden that Scripture demands. Their intercession is a rebuke to the individualism that often pervades faith in free societies, where prayer can devolve into a private wish list rather than a communal lifeline. The North Korean church’s solidarity with believers worldwide mirrors the Macedonian churches, who “implored [Paul] with much urgency that we would receive the gift and the fellowship of ministering to the saints” (2 Corinthians 8:4, NKJV) despite their own poverty. In praying for others, these persecuted saints reject the lie that their suffering renders them powerless; instead, they wield spiritual authority through Christ, who “ever lives to make intercession” (Hebrews 7:25, NKJV) for His people.

This perspective is rooted in the eschatological hope that anchors all Christian endurance. North Korean believers, like the first-century martyrs, understand that their present afflictions are “not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed in us” (Romans 8:18, NKJV). Their prayers are infused with the certainty that the same God who sustained Daniel in the lions’ den and Paul in prison is with them in their hidden rooms. Their faith echoes Job’s cry: “Though He slay me, yet will I trust Him” (Job 13:15, NKJV), and their intercession arises from a conviction that “the effective, fervent prayer of a righteous man avails much” (James 5:16, NKJV), even when uttered in darkness. Their petitions for the global church—for boldness, purity, and unwavering witness—are not passive resignation but active warfare, aligning with Paul’s call to “pray always with all prayer and supplication in the Spirit, being watchful to this end with all perseverance and supplication for all the saints” (Ephesians 6:18, NKJV). In praying for others, they participate in the eternal purposes of God, knowing that their labors in Christ are never in vain (1 Corinthians 15:58).

Yet their prayers also carry a sobering challenge to believers in free nations. While many Christians in the West pray for deliverance from minor inconveniences, North Korean believers intercede for spiritual riches amidst material poverty. Their faithfulness calls to mind the church of Smyrna, which Christ commended as “rich” while enduring “tribulation and poverty” (Revelation 2:9, NKJV). Their example invites reflection on Jesus’ warning against “the deceitfulness of riches” (Matthew 13:22, NKJV) that choke spiritual vitality. When North Korean Christians pray for their free counterparts, they likely plead, as Christ did for Peter, that their faith “should not fail” (Luke 22:32, NKJV) in the face of subtler dangers: complacency, compromise, and lukewarm devotion. Their prayers are a mirror held up to the global church, exposing the cost of discipleship and the urgency of Paul’s charge: “Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind” (Romans 12:2, NKJV).

Ultimately, the prayers of North Korean believers testify to the paradoxical power of the Gospel: that those the world considers weak are “strong in the Lord and in the power of His might” (Ephesians 6:10, NKJV). Their intercession is a living parable of Christ’s words: “Whoever desires to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for My sake will find it” (Matthew 16:25, NKJV). In praying for others, they find purpose in their pain, embodying the truth that “the sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared with the glory which shall be revealed” (Romans 8:18, NKJV). Their hidden faithfulness stands as a beacon to the church worldwide, urging us to “rejoice always, pray without ceasing, in everything give thanks” (1 Thessalonians 5:16–18, NKJV)—not because circumstances are good, but because God is.

The North Korean church’s prayers, offered in defiance of tyranny and in solidarity with the global Body of Christ, are a fragrant offering to the Lord (Revelation 5:8). They remind us that persecution cannot extinguish the light of the Gospel, for “the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not comprehend it” (John 1:5, NKJV). As we receive their intercession, may we respond by lifting our voices for them, knowing that “he who dwells in the secret place of the Most High shall abide under the shadow of the Almighty” (Psalm 91:1, NKJV). May their example stir us to pray with greater fervor, live with greater boldness, and hold fast to the hope that one day, “every knee shall bow… and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord” (Philippians 2:10–11, NKJV)—even in North Korea.

70 Christians murdered in DRC

The recent massacre of 70 Christians in the Democratic Republic of Congo, as reported by Open Doors, confronts us with the stark reality of suffering and persecution that has marked the Christian witness since the earliest days of the faith. Jesus’ words in the Sermon on the Mount resonate with chilling clarity: “Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven” (Matthew 5:10, NKJV). These believers, targeted for their faith, join the long lineage of martyrs whose blood cries out from the ground, as Abel’s did (Genesis 4:10), and whose sacrifices echo through Scripture. The apostle Paul’s sobering reminder—“all who desire to live godly in Christ Jesus will suffer persecution” (2 Timothy 3:12, NKJV)—anchors this tragedy within the broader biblical narrative. Persecution is not a deviation but a fulfillment of Christ’s warning, a sign that the world remains hostile to His light. Yet even in this darkness, their faithfulness unto death stands as a testament to the surpassing worth of Christ, whose Kingdom they now inherit.

In grappling with such senseless violence, we are drawn to the Psalms, where raw lament and unshakable trust in God’s sovereignty coexist. The cry of “How long, O Lord?” (Psalm 13:1) is not foreign to Scripture, nor is the affirmation that “the Lord is King forever and ever” (Psalm 10:16, NKJV). Though evil men plotted this atrocity, God’s purposes are not thwarted. The story of Joseph, sold into slavery by his brothers, reminds us that what humans intend for evil, God can redeem for good (Genesis 50:20). While we cannot comprehend how He will weave this horror into His plan, the cross stands as the ultimate assurance: the greatest evil, the murder of the sinless Son of God, became the means of salvation for the world. This does not diminish the gravity of the crime or the urgency of justice but places it within the arc of a story where God’s justice and mercy prevail.

Scripture compels us to respond to such injustice with both prayer and action. The blood of the slain, like Abel’s, “cries out… from the ground” (Genesis 4:10, NKJV), and Proverbs 31:8–9 commands us to “open [our] mouth for the speechless… and plead the cause of the poor and needy” (NKJV). The global church cannot remain silent. We are called to mourn with those who mourn (Romans 12:15), to intercede for the persecuted, and to advocate for justice while entrusting final vengeance to the Lord (Romans 12:19). This includes tangible support for grieving families, political pressure to protect vulnerable communities, and exposing the works of darkness (Ephesians 5:11). At the same time, we pray even for the perpetrators, following Christ’s radical command to “love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you” (Matthew 5:44, NKJV), longing for their repentance as Saul became Paul (Acts 9).

Central to the Christian hope is the resurrection, which transforms martyrdom from a tragic end into a gateway to eternal joy. Jesus assured His followers, “Do not fear those who kill the body but cannot kill the soul” (Matthew 10:28, NKJV), and Paul’s declaration—“to die is gain” (Philippians 1:21, NKJV)—takes on profound weight in light of these deaths. These believers now dwell where “God will wipe away every tear” (Revelation 21:4, NKJV), their suffering eclipsed by the glory of Christ’s presence. Yet their killers, unless they repent, face a fearful judgment: “It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God” (Hebrews 10:31, NKJV). This tension—between mercy for the repentant and justice for the unrepentant—fuels our urgency to proclaim the Gospel, even to those who hate us.

The attack in the DRC also summons the global church to unity and courage. As one body, we are reminded that “if one member suffers, all the members suffer with it” (1 Corinthians 12:26, NKJV). Persecution has often purified and propelled the church, as seen when the scattering of believers in Acts 8 led to the spread of the Gospel. Peter’s exhortation to persecuted Christians—“do not be afraid of their threats, nor be troubled” (1 Peter 3:14, NKJV)—challenges us to reject complacency and comfort, standing in solidarity through prayer, resources, and advocacy. This is not a call to seek vengeance but to embody Christ’s love in a broken world, trusting that our labor is not in vain (1 Corinthians 15:58).

As we mourn these 70 lives, we cling to the promises of Scripture: God sees (Exodus 3:7), God remembers (Psalm 56:8), and God will act (Revelation 19:1–2). Their deaths, though unjust and agonizing, are not the end of their story—or ours. The hope of resurrection sustains us, and the certainty of Christ’s return fuels our resolve to live boldly, knowing that “the light shines in the darkness, and the darkness did not overcome it” (John 1:5, NKJV). May their sacrifice stir us to deeper faithfulness, urgent witness, and unwavering love, even for enemies, as we await the day when every knee will bow and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord (Philippians 2:10–11).

Lord, we grieve with those who have lost loved ones in this massacre. Comfort the brokenhearted, protect the vulnerable, and bring justice tempered with mercy. Turn the hearts of persecutors to repentance, and empower Your church to shine as a beacon of hope in the darkest places. Hasten the day when Your Kingdom comes in fullness, and every tear is wiped away. In Jesus’ name, Amen.