(RNS) — This past Sunday (June 14), the White House played host to a mixed martial arts event, which served as the unofficial launch of a weekslong celebration for America 250. The fight was attended by such cultural and political powerhouses as Mark Zuckerberg, Joe Rogan, Kash Patel, Dana White, Pete Hegseth, Ted Cruz and the most powerful man in the world, Donald Trump himself, whose 80th birthday occasioned the event.

“UFC at the White House perfectly fits the America of today,” an ESPN headline declared, before adding “love it or hate it.” Indeed.

Fittingly, the buildings of our nation’s capital hark back to Rome — an empire that also staged violent “games” for the entertainment of rulers and commoners alike. Roman society ran on pure “masculine” power. It was also this very empire that the early Christians denounced, rejected and “turned upside down” with their allegiance to another king (Acts 17:6). Their king exalted the lowly and the powerless, described himself as meek, even suffered humiliation and public execution.

Today, we are seeing the mainstream reassertion of a Roman-style culture — a vision for masculinity built on strength and spectacle. Cage-fight culture (like Trump himself) makes no apologies for its violent, offensive and macho tendencies.

But we also saw the mixing of this hyper-manliness with Christianity, most clearly in the post-fight comments of the victorious fighter Josh Hokit, who laced profanity and crass joking about former first lady Michelle Obama with praise for his “Lord and Savior Jesus Christ.” As if to say to any seared consciences watching, “Don’t worry; Jesus is cool with all this.”

His interview reflects the muscular Christianity adopted by numerous politicians, influencers and pastors today. What often unites these threads of modern American “masculinism” is their emphasis on performance. Whether it’s the performance of reality TV stars, news anchors, podcast hosts or athletes, this vision for manliness urges men to show their physicality and prowess, to be seen as powerful or “high value” by others.

Such performances of masculinity leave little room for the virtues previous generations of Boy Scouts would have understood as indispensable. The manosphere majors on self-actualization and grievance-based content from influencers and pundits, but conspicuously lacking in such spaces is the wisdom of fathers.

Entertainers may offer a vicarious feeling of ascension toward some masculine ideal of bravado, physical fitness or courage. Fathers, in the best expression of their calling, offer something far more transformative: presence. Fathers carry a relational commitment to their sons and daughters. Unlike YouTubers and podcast hosts, they can be a stable and consistent advocate for their children, knowing them deeply, offering them personal insights and providing an example of virtuous living.

A reclaiming of a flourishing life for the men in this country will require, at the very least, a rehabilitation of the institution of fatherhood. For Christians, it will mean a recapturing of a faithful vision for fatherly wisdom — dads who say to their daughters and their sons, “Imitate me as I imitate Christ.”

A truly biblical vision for masculine identity will not be preoccupied with peak performance, but with inner transformation. It is man who looks at the outward appearance; God looks at the heart. Increasingly, however, the world of manosphere entertainment directs men’s hearts toward what Paul called “the works of the flesh” — sexual immorality, discord, selfish ambition, drunkenness, rage.

“Manly”? Maybe. Christlike? Absolutely not.

The New Testament authors instead call Christ followers to virtues of godliness, like gentleness, faithfulness, self-control, joy, kindness and love.

The question for Christian fathers in this moment is this: Which vision for male flourishing will you pursue? The Roman’s emphasis on strength, power and performance? Or the virtues Jesus and the apostles commended to the earliest Christians?

The good news is that this quiet faithfulness is already being lived out by millions of fathers across our society: dads who show up to dance recitals and baseball practices, who accept lower-paying career paths to spend more time with their families, who volunteer evenings in church and community mentorship programs, who pursue wholeness and healing from their own hurts so they don’t hurt those they love.

These men may sport “dad bods” instead of the physically imposing bodies of UFC fighters, but that’s because they’ve chosen the path of ordinary faithfulness over the path of bravado. As we read in 1 Timothy: “Physical training is of some value, but godliness has value for all things, holding promise for both the present life and the life to come.”

The performative masculinity of modern America is no harmless spectacle. It is culture and heart formation, and we should want and demand better for our sons and for ourselves. As Christians, our struggle is not ultimately against flesh and blood; it is against the principalities and powers at work to deceive and enslave humanity, including those seeking the ideological capture of the lost boys of this generation. 

In Christianity, godliness is the basis for manliness, not the other way around.

So, if you’re reading this as a tired dad doing his best to follow Jesus and point the boys and men in your life to him — keep going. Keep showing up. Train your children for citizenship in the Kingdom of God. Commend the countercultural meekness of Christ over and against the muscled mania of this world.

I regularly say to my 6-year-old son, Charlie, “Jesus made men to be strong, but he also taught us and showed us how to be gentle. So, as we grow bigger and stronger, we should also be learning to be gentle like Jesus.”

I’m far from a perfect example of this, but I aspire to be a present, faithful and gentle father who raises up a faithful and gentle son. I also want to teach him when and where to direct his fighting spirit, such as it is. And that means being a father who is ready when Charlie approaches and asks — as he did on the morning I’m writing this — “Daddy, do you want to wrestle with me?”

I would have said “yes,” but he had already jumped on my back without waiting for an answer.

(Zachary Wagner holds a doctorate from the University of Oxford and is the author of “Men of Virtue: How the Fruit of the Spirit Forms Male Character in the Modern World.” He is also a New Testament scholar, ordained minister and nonprofit director. You can receive updates from Zach and follow his writing on Substack. The views expressed in this commentary do not necessarily reflect those of Religion News Service.)