MAN CHURCH: The Grace of God
In this sermon‑style address Dr. John A. King explores the biblical mandate to forgive “70 times 7” and exposes the cultural‑legalistic limits that have shaped men’s understanding of grace. He contrasts the Jewish rabbis’ three‑time forgiveness rule with Jesus’ radical call to limitless forgiveness, noting that men often apply this standard outwardly while withholding it from themselves. King weaves Scripture (Matthew 18, Romans 8:28, Matthew 5:39, Mark 12:31, Romans 5) to argue that grace is unearned favor, not a reward for works, and that righteousness before God is a gift received through Christ, not personal merit. He highlights how self‑condemnation fuels a heavy burden, contributing to mental‑health crises and high male suicide rates, especially among middle‑aged, educated white men. King urges men to practice self‑grace, to view their failures through Christ’s righteousness, and to replace guilt with intentional, ritualized steps—drawing a line of condemnation in the sand and stepping forward in grace. He stresses the importance of brotherhood (“iron sharpens iron”), mutual accountability, and the need for a clear masculine identity, presenting his “Warrior’s Code” as a practical framework of strength, courage, mastery, loyalty, integrity, resilience, relentlessness, ruthlessness, forgiveness, and a refusal to associate with “assholes.” The talk culminates in a call for men to adopt this code, to support one another, and to redefine manhood as a balance of warrior spirit and poetic heart, anchored in the grace already given by God.
Chapters
We all came to this journey, to this place, by different ways. All of us have. Matthew talks about 70 times 7. It says, then Peter came up and said to him, Lord, how often will my brother sin against me and I forgive him? As many, many as 7 times? And Jesus said to him, I don't say to you 7 times, but 70 times 7. So there's a lot of— been a lot of teaching and thought around that, and most of it comes with a whole series of guilt and condemnation. In other words, we're not doing enough in order to earn favor, and we've got to forgive everybody everything all the time. So the Jewish rabbis at the time taught that forgiving someone more than 3 times was unnecessary, that if they did something or they made an error, they were allowed— they got 3 free passes and then they were over. You weren't— you didn't have to forgive them anymore. So when Peter makes this statement, there's probably a couple of things going on in his mind. The first one I'd like to think of is that Peter's saying, you know what? Wow. The rabbis say 3 times. Why don't I do what would Jesus do and give them 7? And he said, well, should we forgive them 7 times? And then Christ comes back and makes this statement that is incredible and, and can't be comprehended within the time and the culture. He comes back and says, you know what, Peter? Thanks very much for that. Good thoughts. You're being generous, or you're trying to get a golden stamp. We're not too sure what. In our case, it would probably be a golden stamp, but let's give Peter a bit of a nod. He came back and said, listen, I want you to forgive 490 times. That would have been an amount for them which would have been like, I want you to forgive me forever. Totally blown away their concepts of what forgiveness is. So although they'd been with Jesus for such a long period of time, they were still thinking in limited terms of law. Like, although Peter says— and he's trying and he's doing this— he's still putting confines on what grace is. So here we sit, we're students of the word, we have a knowledge of Christ and the scriptures, and we read this and we say yes. And we've been taught this, particularly as men, we carry the burden of it. That we must forgive others more than 3 times. We must forgive our wives, our girlfriends, our children, our bosses, our coworkers. We must all forgive them now 70 times 7. That's our spiritual obligation. As men, we have a tendency to apply this 70 times 7 rule to everybody. But we're lucky to really extend grace to ourselves more than 3 times. And I wonder why that is. Why do we feel so compelled and so comfortable extending it to other people but not to ourselves? And I think majority of that is because we're legalists. We're followers of strict guidelines and adherers to rules because as men, we've been taught and learned that in order for us to succeed and get ahead, we have to do that. And literally for us to survive. We have to be able to do that. So here's another scripture for you, Romans 8:28. And we know that for those who love God, all things work together for good for those according to his purposes. So when we, when we read this, we're taught— often it's taught in the context of if something bad happens to us, then God can turn it around. If someone does something bad to me, then God can turn that around. Rarely do we ever stop and consider that most error, most mistake, most wrong done to us is actually done by us, and that this promise in fact applies more to that than to anything else. To, to me, I read this scripture and this is my 70 times 7 scripture, whereas everyone else might get a 3 3. This is for me a 70 times 7. So our self-speak often goes like this, that all things for good applies to everybody who does something wrong, but not to ourselves. When this verse is really saying to us, not only when others screw me over, but when I mess something up so bad I can't conceive how I'm going to get out of it, God can make it work altogether for good. Let's talk about the other cheek for a minute. Matthew 5:39. But I say to you, do not resist the one who is evil. But if anyone slaps you on the right cheek, turn to him the other also. Okay, so, so by and large, men are tough on ourselves. It's just, just who we are. We have to be because we can't sit around and wait for the world to save us. We can't sit and wait for someone to give us a handout. We have to get up and go again. Turn the other cheek for another. But we don't for ourselves. We don't give ourselves a second chance. We don't really give ourselves a do-over. We look at our lives and we declare it one and done. I've got here. I've screwed up. I've messed this whole thing up. Well, maybe I'll get another chance over here. Maybe something else. I've got to work hard. I've got to work hard. I've got to work out. I've got to make this new thing happen because I screwed this other thing up so bad. But I would like to suggest that that is an incredible heavy load to carry, heavier than we were designed to carry and heavier than we were meant to carry. Mark 12:31. The second is this, that you shall love your neighbor as yourself. There is no other commandment greater than these. Christ said that we can only love others as we love ourselves. So Then why don't we? Why can't we? Why do we measure grace to everybody else in our lives but not to us? Why do we judge everybody else by their intentions and ourselves by our actions? Why do we not love ourselves? Why can't we forgive ourselves? Well, I think it comes down to a concept of understanding grace and even righteousness. Now, these are big, lofty terms, but they're only big, lofty terms that are difficult to get your head around. Not because of your inability to understand, but because you've been told a little bit like Catholicism that understanding the world and theology is beyond your comprehension, that it really is only for the pulpit, it's not for the laity. And that's a myth that needs to be destroyed, not just delayed. Christ by grace, by definition, means unmerited or unearned favor. Very simply, that whatever you've been given in life you didn't earn or can't make happen. That grace is something that is given to you, that there is no way you can earn it. You cannot overtime to get grace. You cannot come in on a Sunday to get grace. You can't do extra work on a Saturday to get grace. These are just not things that don't happen. And Jesus modeled grace to us this way. He said, when mankind was unable to find its way to God, God came to him. When man was condemned to die and go to hell, God sent us heaven. When we're unable to save ourselves through works and the law, Christ fulfilled all of these things that we would never have to, that we would never have to. When we were at our worst in life— and I want you to think about that worst in life— broken sinners with no way forward, Jesus came to us. Even when we were running from him, he chased us down. We like to think that God is with us in our good times. It's a very, it's a very modern world approach to it, very Protestant and Catholic approach to it, that God is with us in our good times. We've heard this the time God is going to bless you financially if you follow his word and tithe and pray and do stuff like that. Yeah, but really it doesn't say that. It just says that God's going to prosper you, your outcome and your work. Does that adhere to it? Will God prosper you? When you are adhering to his word and his principles, yes. But he has also prospered you when you've been in the midst of sin, betrayal, and ultimate cruelty. It has never been dependent upon you. We've attached those things so that we can somehow feel we can do our overtime and earn more favor, somehow work our salvation accordingly. Jesus died when he was at his best and we were at our worst. Think of it. Whilst we were still sinners, Christ died for us. At his very best, walking into hell, about to inherit heaven. At his very best, having heard the words, I am well pleased. At his very best, it is finished. At his very best, we're at our very worst. There's no up from there. There is nothing more that we can graduate into. Romans 5. For while we were still weak, at the right time Christ died for the ungodly— us. For one will scarcely die for a right person, though perhaps for a good person one will dare to die. But God showed his love for us in that while we were still sinners, when we're at our worst, Christ died for us. He was at his best. So one more thought. Rightness. or righteousness. It is the rightness before God. It means that we're able to stand before God on our own merits. Now, that's, that's an interesting thought, because think of what I just said, that at his best we're at our worst. So how is that obtainable? It means that when we come to stand before God based on our own merits, in our worst, we're able to look God in the eye and say, I am perfect. Because of the work that Christ has done for us, it's a gift. There's nothing that you can earn in this relationship. There's nothing that you can do to obtain this relationship. It is the rightness before God. It means we're able to stand before God on our own merits, those merits that are in Christ. It means that we're right before God. We need the grace of God because we don't deserve it. We need the rightness of Christ credited to us. Because we have none of our own. See, all of this stuff we think we're going to earn, we get later in life as men, and we look back and we're judging ourselves based on our actions, which we should, but we're not judging in the way Christ judges us, the way God really sees us. He has the capacity to turn our dung into fertilizer, to flip our life over. Out of the mess and the shit of the past, he can grow something good. That was the whole parable of the fig tree. I want you to take this tree which is rotten. I want you to dig around it. I want you to fill it with manure, and out of that act of faith and manure, I'm going to produce fruit where there is no fruit. And the thing about that tree is it was not the season for figs. It wasn't supposed to be producing figs. How many times in our life have we looked at our life and thought, "I'm not producing fruit, therefore that has to be directly?" related to the fact that I was looking at titties online, shagging titties that weren't my titties. I was doing something with titties because we're always doing something with titties. And here I am and I'm praying, oh God bless me, and he does, and he thinks I can get away with looking at titties. Or God bless me and he doesn't, and we go, oh, it's all about the titties again. It all comes down to sin of titties at some point. We know that. It's just, you know, it's who we are. So when God looks at us, we don't want him looking at us as our adulterous, murderous, thieving, pornographic, bitter, angry state. We want him looking at us through Christ, and as Christ sees us, we want him to see that grace— you did nothing for it. No amount of money buys it. No amount of mowing the church lawn earns it. No amount of sharing your faith gets you a free ticket. Rightness with God— you did nothing for that. Rightness with God. No amount of money buys that. Rightness with God. No amount of loving law does it. God's righteousness. You don't deserve it, yet you receive it. And that's what makes it a gift. Grace, salvation, forgiveness in the shame of guilt. Second chance when there's no way forward. A gift of future and hope when you've given up, and a gift of tomorrow when you're dying today. All of that's grace. All of that's rightness. So as men— and here's the thought— so as men, we measure grace to our wives and our children, but not to ourselves. We'll measure grace to our buddies, but not to ourselves. We'll measure grace to a stranger, but not to ourselves. Amen. I believe as men we should hold ourselves to a higher standard because that's the fundamental of manhood. A higher standard than we hold others in our lives? Absolutely. A higher standard than we hold our family, our children, our friends, our work? Absolutely. And that's what we must do because that's what we're called to. But shouldn't we, by that very standard that we impose, extend it to ourselves concerning grace? Isn't grace and forgiveness a much higher standard than guilt and condemnation? Now, if that is the case, and I've laid the case out logically for you, not emotionally, then that should be the highest standard that we can give ourselves. We should in fact be extending more grace to ourselves, more understanding of righteousness to ourselves, even than we extend to other people in our lives. It's not like you use a little bit of grace on yourself and you run out. Because you didn't do anything to earn it in the first place. Now, how is it we don't produce grace? We're offered grace. So, so what does this mean? Grace means God through us views us through what Christ has done. Some of us have been abject failures at different times in our lives. Now, I don't mean by the comparison to the world, because really We're all at a stage and an age in life where we know that doesn't count. That's not the measure by which we measure ourselves. We see ourselves as failures as fathers, as husbands, as lovers, as friends, in business, in job, in life. So be it. We are. We have been. We did. We screwed up. We screwed. We let them down. You couldn't be relied on. You didn't stick to your word. You're an addict to alcohol, porn, pills, or just being an idiot. All that's true. All of that's true. You're a lowlife sucking loser. All of that's true. But then there's grace. There's grace. It's not a permission slip to sin. It's an opportunity to redeem yourself. To see that what Christ has done, that you're worth it. It's a chance to get up and go again. Why do we insist on remaking God in our image? Why are we erecting a false idol of worship ourselves instead of just inviting and accepting what he does? When you say you don't deserve forgiveness, love, hope, friendship, a future, and joy. You're saying that you know better than God, that you're worshiping your failure at the sake of his grace and goodness and love towards you. You're saying that you're an exalted being with an external and eternal perspective and a perfect understanding of what eternity and others around you need. Hmm. And I'm sorry, but you're not. You're just not. You're not all those things. We're not all those things. I have friends that wonder why they're alive and not dead, and very selfishly, I believe that if they were, I probably would be also. I thank God for the men in my life that decided they were going to get up and go again instead of end it, because they were the ones that helped me through when they thought that they were a disaster in their life. They decided to go again. In a moment, I'm going to give you an opportunity to draw that line in the sand. We'll have a prayer. Now, I want that line. I don't want you to draw a line of grace and redemption. I want you to draw a line of guilt, condemnation, worthlessness. And then I want you to step into a brand new day and period in your life, because we're very good at drawing lines and saying, God's forgiven me, I can walk. And we're really not. We don't really do that well. So draw a line of condemnation and guilt. So here it is. Here is all my shit. Here it is lined up. There it is. There it is. And I'm going to make a decision not based on what I feel, but based upon what I've heard and what I've learned and what I know. And I'm going to take one step forward. And in that single act, you've just declared that everything that was is. It not will be. It is. It's gone. It's done. And so whenever it pops into your life, just stop. I've dealt with that. I drew a line of guilt, condemnation, and shame, and it happens to be behind me now. And every time you come up and you fuck up and you do it again and you mess it up again, just draw a new line. Just try. Okay, today I did it. Here's my line. I step over it in grace and leave it behind you. As men, what we do is we pick it up and we put in the backpack of our life and we drag that crap forward. That's why more of us commit suicide at a rate greater than any other health pandemic in American history. In the Western world, it is men, middle-aged, college-educated, predominantly white men who kill themselves because they don't feel they've got a place. And there's always a place in the beloved. There always has been a place in the beloved. Iron on iron, the one man sharpens another. We learn from each other's life, and that's why it's Man Church. I, I started in men's ministry. I started as a broken boy trying to be a man with no idea of what that meant, and it's taken me 60 years to realize that I probably still don't know, but I'm a great pretender. And I'd rather pretend with a bunch of mates so we can work it out with each other. Men are in a desperate state. We need something. I was on a show, a podcast yesterday with a group out of Hollywood, of all places, woke as woke can be. And they sat there and cried and talked about the fact that they recognize that men are in a desperate place, that there is nothing being provided for men. So if you've got the wokest state One of the wokest locations in the world admitting that's the case. And there were 3 women and 1 guy in the thing saying that there's something wrong and we need— and we know it. So it's time for us to be the answer that we need. When a man wrestles, hunts, worships, prays, digs, builds, stands shoulder to shoulder, we rub off each other and we rub on each other. That's iron sharpens iron. Men learn from each other. Men like rules. In a world that is weak and indecisive, we need something to build on. I want to read you something I wrote called The Warrior's Code. I'm going to put it in the app along with this. I sent this to Ned, um, a while back. I might have even sent it to you, Ron. A man doesn't have to choose whether he's a warrior or a poet. He can be both. And it's funny, I don't know you yet, James, But, um, I know both Ron and Ned and have for a while, and they're both artists in their own way, both poets, like ridiculously romantic, you know. It's, um, and I love that with— and they're the most blokey blokes I've ever come across. You strike me as the same, brother. A warrior's code. This is the code I live by, qualities I aspire to manifest in my life. If I try to live by this code, I will fail. I will fail more than once. I will fail daily, sometimes hourly, and in that failure lies my genuine success. I will remind myself that only when a man has failed and gotten to his feet again and again in the face of extreme adversity does he know his true self and what he's capable of. Strength: having the physical ability to do what needs to be done. Courage: possessing the determination and stamina to see something through to the end. Mastery— honing the skills needed to protect and provide for those that I love. Loyalty— standing up and, if need be, laying down my life for the brother on my left and my right. Integrity— being true to myself. Resilience— being able to hold my ground until my brothers get to me. Relentless— never giving an inch on the things that matter. Ruthless— if it comes down to it, hitting hard, hitting first, and making sure the other guy doesn't get up. Forgiveness, always extending it to those that are worthy and making sure that I'm one of them. And finally, not being an asshole. The world is filled with assholes, people who will walk out on me, not stand up for me. These assholes will betray me and lie about me, and they will do it for some worthless reason like money, promotion, or power. Men like that I must disdain. These men I call out. Those men I warn brothers about. I don't shake their hands. I don't have a beer with them. I'm not seen with them. Why? Because the stain of their weakness, the mediocrity of their lives will contaminate and compromise my soul. My circle is smaller now than it's ever been in my life. I've been more populous, I suppose, in some ways than I've ever been, and my circle is smaller. Why? Because I don't do assholes. I'm just— I know there's a total different word for that if you're Australian, but we'll just call it assholes because we're in America and you all are probably Baptists at some point. There it is. That's what I got for you.
