With apologise to Otis Redding fans my jest is necessary to highlight an instance in which I suspect the Mindset of the Spirit really ought to do more to make a difference – or at least the riches and power that flow from the hope to which we are called ought to make it possible to make a difference – and that is in the realm of reclaiming tenderness as a feature of the way we (especially men) express our relationships in ministry and mission.

Now those faithful few who have followed the last few posts will recall that I have been exploring some themes that how the Spiritual mindset makes a difference in ministry and mission. I have suggested that the Mindset of the Spirit makes a difference when the means of ministry determines the ends and the manner with which we conduct our mission is through engagement. In addition we have reflected more on the motivation for mission – living worthily of the hope to which we have been called – and the manner of engagement in ministry – patiently, gently and lovingly enduring with others. Today I will attempt to broach the difficult issue of tenderness  - that is I will suggest that the Spiritual mindset does and will make a difference in ministry and mission when tenderness is held to be a significant characteristic of the way we express our relationships.

I think this is a difficult issue to consider for a number of reasons:

Firstly, showing tenderness doesn’t seem to fit with the image of a trail blazing pioneer; it’s not particularly manly – the Marlborough man may speak tenderly to his horse but he sure as hec won’t be caught showing affection to the other cowboys unless of course the round-up is on broke back mountain. So we are faced with the possible extremes of a punch in the face as an act of endearment or a pat on the backside as a cloak for depravity.

Secondly, and following on from the first, images of masculinity in our late-modern Australian culture are so dogged by stereo-types that I for one despair of ever finding a description of what it means to be a man that doesn’t make me feel alienated or infuriated.

One of the lesser achievements of feminism must surely be the ease with which men are so regularly ridiculed in popular media or the constancy with which Fatherhood is named as the resting place for all blame. Of course it is also possible to believe that just by raising the subject of men and tenderness I am drifting into the tiresome territory of sensitive new-aged guys or their sons – the metro-sexual  - where anyway that men behave in contrast to women, anything that somehow confronts us with a difference between genders is reviled such that young boys are not allowed to start primary school until the sisterhood feel they can be trusted to sit quietly and colour-in.

Thirdly, I suspect the issue of tenderness or affections is difficult to discuss with others because it involves engagement of the most intimate kind – a willingness both to be vulnerable and to accept others in their vulnerability. As a sinner my desire is always to disengage – like Adam whose sin I have adopted and adapted for my own place and time. I’m too proud, or too envious or just too afraid to speak or act tenderly towards others in general and my brothers in particular.

So why bother with this? Aren’t we after all trying to make a theology out of a personality type? How can I possibly presume to speak on this topic without falling into the same trap of clichés and stereotypes? Perhaps we could ask, “What would Jesus feel?” Come back next time for a dip into Paul’s letter to the church at Phillipi.