No Gravitas, No Manhood
Summary of Chapter 9
For a man, "grow up" might be better said, "get gravitas." Gravitas isn’t a word you hear much anymore, but it matters. It means weight, seriousness, substance. The Romans knew it well. The Bible knows it better. In Hebrew, kabod means glory, but literally, it means weight. Heavy. The heavens declare the kabod of God. Abram was kabod in cattle and gold. A famine was kabod in the land. It's not just about honor—it's about being substantial, leaving an imprint like a stone pressed into dirt.
Men are meant to be heavy. Not just in body—though the broader shoulders, deeper voices, and stronger muscles are clues. But in spirit. A man without gravitas is like a hollow log. Looks solid until you tap it, and the emptiness echoes back.
Kabod can be given. Gravitas must be earned. A prince has kabod because he's born to it. Gravitas? Not unless he proves worthy. Christians have kabod because we're in Christ, grafted into His glory. But gravitas? That’s the fruit of living like it matters.
Gravitas isn’t charisma. It’s not charm. It can’t be faked. The Pharisees tried with their long robes and loud prayers. People saw through it. But when Jesus spoke, even as a young man, they marveled. "He speaks with authority, not like the scribes."
Gravitas comes from settling into who you are under God. It grows from virtue, shaped by duties fulfilled, sins resisted, and wisdom gained. Even unbelievers can scrape together a shadow of it when they stumble into virtue. But real gravitas reflects the infinite weight of God Himself.
Men in hell have no gravitas.
How do you get it? Start with the fear of God. Not the flippant, "God's my buddy" nonsense. Real fear. Proverbs says it's the beginning of knowledge. Young men struggle with this. They're cocky, sure of themselves. That's the barrier. Fear of God knocks you off that perch.
A man who fears God listens to correction. He hates evil, especially pride and arrogance. He's content to be small because he knows God's greatness. He trusts God, not circumstances. His children find refuge in him because he finds refuge in God.
But fear isn’t the end. It’s the door. Beyond it is wisdom, virtue, gravitas. Men with gravitas are like gravity itself. They pull others into order. Without them, chaos reigns. The young drift. Society spins.
Speech reveals the heart. Jesus said so. Want to check your fear of God? Listen to yourself. Casual blasphemies, even the mild ones—"holy crap," "oh my gosh"—betray a heart too light. The seraphim cry, "Holy, holy, holy," and we cheapen that word for a joke? Words matter. They shape you.
How you speak to older men matters too. Leviticus says, "Rise before the gray-headed." Paul told Timothy, "Don’t rebuke an older man harshly; appeal to him as a father." Respecting elders isn’t just manners. It reflects your view of God.
But gravitas isn’t just solemnity. The man who takes himself too seriously is brittle. He can’t laugh, especially at himself. That’s not gravitas. That’s insecurity. God laughs at the nations' rebellion. A man with true gravitas knows when to laugh and when to stand firm.
On the flip side, constant levity is a dodge. The joker avoids the weight of life. But gravitas faces it head-on. It discerns what matters and acts accordingly.
Our culture hates gravitas. We mock elders, worship youth, drown in entertainment. Comedians are our priests, laughing away guilt. But laughter can't carry that weight. It breaks. Look at the depression behind the jokes.
Real gravitas comes from God. It grows in men who fear Him, know His Word, and live like it matters. It anchors families, churches, nations. Without it, chaos wins.
To be grave is to be grounded. To leave an imprint. To matter. Not by demanding respect, but by living a life that earns it.
Get gravitas.
Questions for Reflection
In what areas of your life do you sense a lack of substance or weight, and what specific actions could you take to cultivate gravitas in those areas?
How does your current relationship with the fear of God influence your decisions, attitudes, and interactions with others?
When you reflect on your speech and how you honor those older or in authority, what does it reveal about your view of God and your pursuit of true gravitas?