What makes a man powerful?

Is it money, influence, control, and the ability to make other people afraid?

Or is that sometimes just insecurity wearing expensive sunglasses?

Our culture often treats confidence as proof of character. Someone speaks boldly, builds a massive following, displays wealth, and never apologizes—and we assume that must be strength.

But Jesus gave us a very different picture.

On Saturday, July 18, 2026, social media influencers Andrew and Tristan Tate were arrested in Miami by the U.S. Marshals Service.

British authorities are seeking their extradition in connection with additional allegations involving rape, sexual assault, trafficking for sexual exploitation, assault, and offenses involving indecent images of a child and extreme pornography.. According to British prosecutors, the newly authorized charges involve four additional alleged victims and conduct said to have occurred between 2010 and 2017.

These are extremely serious accusations.

They are also accusations—not convictions.

Both men deny wrongdoing. The allegations must be examined through the legal process, and extradition from the United States is not automatic. A federal court will have to consider the British request.

That distinction matters.

Christians should never become so eager for justice that we abandon truth. Proverbs 18:17 warns us about accepting the first account we hear without allowing it to be examined.

We should take alleged victims seriously. We should also refuse to declare someone guilty before the evidence has been properly considered.

Those two commitments are not enemies.

Caring about potential victims does not require abandoning due process. Respecting due process does not require dismissing serious allegations.

But the courts are not the only reason this story matters.

Andrew Tate has built an enormous online audience, particularly among young men. His public image is closely connected to ideas about masculinity, wealth, women, relationships, status, and control.

So while a court must decide whether these specific allegations are true, we do not need a courtroom verdict to ask a larger question:

What kind of strength are influential men teaching others to admire?

Celebrity has a strange effect on us. Once we admire someone, we can begin defending more than their good qualities. We start defending the entire package.

Their opinions become wisdom.

Their confidence becomes credibility.

Their success becomes proof that their worldview must be right.

And criticism of them begins to feel like criticism of us.

I had to ask myself whether I sometimes confuse confidence with character. Someone can speak boldly, attract millions of followers, and still teach us to admire the wrong things.

That is why Mark 10:42–45 matters here.

In that passage, James and John had been seeking positions of honor in Jesus’ kingdom. They were thinking about prominence, status, and proximity to authority.

The other disciples became angry, though perhaps partly because James and John had asked before they did.

Jesus responded by contrasting the way worldly rulers use authority with the way leadership is supposed to function among His followers.

The rulers around them demonstrated greatness by placing themselves above others. Authority meant control. Position meant privilege. Power meant having people beneath you.

Jesus turned that entire definition upside down.

Among His followers, greatness would be expressed through service. Leadership would not be measured by how many people someone could command but by how willingly that person served others.

That does not mean biblical strength is timid.

It does not mean men should become passive, uncertain, or afraid to lead.

Masculinity is not the problem.

Confidence is not the problem.

Leadership is not the problem.

The problem is power separated from holiness, humility, self-control, and love.

Courage without humility can become arrogance.

Leadership without service can become control.

Confidence without character can become performance.

Strength without love can become dangerous.

And once domination is presented as masculinity, other people stop being neighbors to love. They become tools, trophies, obstacles, or evidence of our importance.

This is larger than one online personality.

Every generation has voices telling men what they must become to matter. Some say a man’s value is found in money. Others say sexual conquest. Others say physical dominance, emotional detachment, public recognition, or the ability to make everyone else back down.

But Jesus does not measure strength that way.

Jesus possessed more authority than any ruler, celebrity, businessman, athlete, or influencer who has ever lived.

Yet Philippians 2:3–8 presents Him as the One who humbled Himself rather than exploiting His position.

He did not need to diminish others to prove His greatness.

He did not use vulnerable people to build His public image.

He did not treat women as decorations around His ministry.

He did not manipulate His disciples to satisfy His ego.

He served.

He protected.

He welcomed people others dismissed.

He washed feet.

And ultimately, He gave Himself for sinners.

That is not weak masculinity.

That is strength under perfect control.

The cross reveals a kind of power the world struggles to understand: authority willing to sacrifice itself for the good of others.

The gospel does more than tell influential people to improve their behavior.

It confronts the pride in all of us that wants to be above others.

That desire does not only exist in celebrities with sports cars and millions of followers. It can show up in churches, marriages, families, workplaces, friendships, and social-media arguments.

We may never control a massive platform, but nearly all of us have some influence.

A parent has influence.

A spouse has influence.

A supervisor has influence.

A ministry leader has influence.

Even the person with twelve followers and three of them are relatives has influence.

The question is not merely whether we have power. The question is what our power does to the people around us.

Does our strength make people safer or more afraid?

Does our leadership help others grow, or does it keep them dependent upon us?

Do we listen when someone weaker says they have been hurt, or do we protect the person with the larger platform?

This is where Christians must resist online tribalism.

We do not need to become internet prosecutors who announce a verdict before the court does.

We also do not need to become unpaid celebrity defense attorneys who dismiss every accusation because we admire the accused.

We can say the allegations are serious.

We can say the evidence must be examined.

We can care about the people who report abuse.

We can preserve the presumption of innocence.

And we can evaluate the ideas promoted by public figures without pretending that wealth, fame, or confidence places anyone beyond moral scrutiny.

Admiration must never silence discernment.

Here is one practical step.

Choose one influential voice you regularly watch, read, or follow. It could be a political commentator, pastor, business leader, entertainer, athlete, or social-media personality.

Then examine that person’s message through Mark 10:42–45.

What are they teaching you about power?

What are they teaching you about women, relationships, success, and people who are weaker than you?

Are they helping you become more like the servant King—or merely teaching you how to dominate others?

The courts must determine what Andrew and Tristan Tate did or did not do.

But each of us can examine what kind of strength we have learned to admire.

The world may recognize strength by how many people a man can control.

Jesus recognizes it by how willingly his power serves.

Pray This

Father, give us wisdom to pursue truth without rushing to judgment. Protect those who are vulnerable, bring justice where wrongdoing has occurred, and guide everyone involved in the legal process.

Examine our own hearts. Show us where pride, control, or admiration for powerful personalities has distorted our understanding of strength.

Make us more like Jesus—humble, courageous, truthful, self-controlled, and willing to use whatever influence we have to serve others.

In Jesus’ name, amen.