Saying, “I Love You,” to Another Man

(This is the second of two recent posts.  See yesterday’s post here.)

One tragic consequence of the sexual revolution in which we find ourselves, a revolution largely defined by the acronym LGBTQ+, is, perhaps, the struggle for one man to say to another, “I love you.”  It’s not that the words aren’t, or can’t be, spoken, but rather that we’re less apt to say them for fear of being misunderstood (whether in our own mind or otherwise).  It’s not surprising that we might struggle in this way.  In a world marked by open and increasing homosexuality, the words, “I love you,” between male counterparts, have been sadly hijacked.

To be clear, we ought not charge all our male reticence in speaking thus to one another against the sexual revolution.  Even without this wholesale departure from God’s holiness, men are still less apt to verbally express love for another man, particularly another man of their same age and life-stage.  In one sense, this reticence is wholly appropriate.  It signifies the emotional and verbal differences between men and women, including in how we express ourselves.  It also signifies the high regard we have for concepts and spheres of love.  The way I love my wife is entirely different (though not fundamentally different) from the way I love another man.  Thus, using the same term – “love” – in both cases sometimes feels a bit odd, though it need not.

All of this, the world around me and my own internal reticence, makes me thankful for men in my life who have, and are now, teaching me, and helping me, to say, “I love you,” to other men.  I have in mind here men like my two grandfathers, or my father.  I mean men like my three brothers, and them especially since my own father’s death in May 2020.  I mean my brothers-in-law and my own son.  I mean many brothers in Christ over the years who’ve demonstrated manly love for me, even if without using the phrase, “I love you.”  These men have shepherded me, and they are shepherding me now, toward Christlike maturity in love; the sort of maturity that can come to another man and say, with holy honesty, “I love you.”

Why is this matter of love expressed to another man so important?  Why is it, in fact, essential to my life and faith?  It’s important because I desperately want to say, with all honesty, and with manly vehemence, “I love you,” to the truest man who ever lived.  I want the God-Man, Jesus Christ, to hear from my lips, “I love you,” with no awkwardness, or reticence, or dissimulation.  He saved me for this purpose.  He loved me first for this purpose!  I want the joy (perhaps the painful joy) of an exchange like this (see John 21:15-17, ESV):

Jesus: “P.J., son of Phil, do you love me more than these?”

PJ: “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.”

Jesus: “Feed my lambs.”

Jesus: “P.J., son of Phil, do you love me?”

PJ: “Yes, Lord; you know that I love you.”

Jesus: “Tend my sheep.”

Jesus: “P.J., son of Phil, do you love me?”

PJ: “Lord, you know everything; you know that I love you.”

Jesus: “Feed my sheep.”

I’m thankful for the men who teach me to say, “I love you,” so that I can say the same to the One Man.