I’d like to write about a phenomenon I call “Real Guys.”

If you’re still here, maybe you want to read about it. OK.

I coined the term while observing a pastor who was spectacularly unqualified for his job, not the least for moral reasons. I watched with a combination of awe and dismay as he disregarded convention, disregarded rules, disregarded policy, lied, and generally did whatever he wanted for whatever reason he had. And nobody even objected. Somehow, he was just too special for the rules to apply. It was as though he was surrounded by this bubble of unreality. But this bubble was clearly superior to the water I was swimming in. It became clear that I might as well admit that his paradigm was the real one, and mine the false. It sure worked better than mine, and it looked like a lot more fun.

He was the real guy. It was as though little people like me had to follow the rules and go by the book, while he existed on an exalted higher plane, where his mere existence justified everything about him. As though I am in this stilted imitation place where I fumble around with improvised things like truth and convention, while his higher reality supersedes that. I’m a little person. He’s a Real Guy. For real guys, it is OK to cut in lines, lie, speed, and do all the things I get called on or busted for. They get to mouth platitudes, but they never have to walk the talk.

Real guys get to speak, and they don’t have to listen. For us little guys, ignorance is no excuse, but for real guys, ignorance doesn’t need an excuse, because it is no longer ignorance. The facts are wrong. Go ahead-- take a vote-- see who wins. I had to conclude that real guys exist on the actual plane of reality and I’m occupying some imitation, a mock-up sustained by rules and constraints and facts that only apply to little guys like me.

Maybe you can relate. Or maybe you just decided I’m paranoid. Maybe both. But being a Real Guy is definitely beyond my capabilities. When I speak in the presence of real guys, I can hear my voice, but it evidently doesn’t make an actual sound. When I announce carefully considered decisions, they are immediately garbage to real guys, while whatever flies off the top of their heads is so profound that to express a reservation is a deep insult. When people who phone me identify themselves, I say hello to them. I can’t help it. Somehow, real guys have the discipline to meet my greeting with the dead silence that a little guy deserves.

I don’t know how they do it. It’s pretty impressive.

However, I have recently come to realize that the whole real-guy/little-guy distinction is more complex than a mere scenario of bad strong people and weak good ones. The easiest way to approach it is in the area of rules. I’ll consider and contrast rules-following little guys with rule-possessing real guys.

Consider the story “Les Miserables.” Jean Valjean is remorselessly pursued by the ultimate little guy, the policeman Javert. Nothing matters to Javert except the rules. Nothing at all. No matter what the cost, the rules will be enforced. No matter what the benefit, the rules will not be broken. This man is obviously a slave to his standards.

This helped me see something. Real guys exercise a certain power and authority, doing what they want, declaring a kind of self-existence by their self-justifying behavior. But how about me? I get all bitter and bent out of shape at their transgressions, and forgiveness will only be extended when they come to ME in a way that is acceptable to ME, and worship at the idol (ME). I realized that I’m not really that in love with justice per se. I’m in love with the rules as my own route to power and authority. Hmm. Dang. Justice as a private weapon. Pull down those real guys! Show’em who’s boss! Not all that altruistic, I’m afraid.

Well, having realized this about myself, I was ready to revisit the idea of the Real Guy. Maybe stepping out of the power struggle (which was doomed anyway) would let me see more clearly.

Let’s go back to Les Mis. How about the priest who is robbed by Jean Valjean? He’s a kind of a real guy, actually. He doesn’t care about the rules. He lies to the authorities, point blank, in order to spare Jean Valjean. He’s really declaring himself to be the law. Good thing, too, wouldn’t you say? How about King David eating the showbread, which was clearly against the rules? Christ approved of it. And on that topic, how about Christ? Does He strike you as a punctilious rule-follower? Not me. He was always bending people out of joint over rules. Now, it’s easy to say that the annoyed people were just legalistic Pharisees. But don’t you get the feeling that Christ would have turned your apple cart over, too? He left no applecart intact. He was, in fact, the ultimate Real Guy. Hmm. Dang.

Now, let’s not be too ambiguous. The kinds people I described at the top, as real guys, are serious douche bags. Abominations. They are going to get theirs, big time, unless Christ takes it for them. (In sum, the similarities between them and me are much more significant than the differences.) But there are aspects, here that are both good and necessary. Exercising proper perspective, seeing and doing what is REALLY right even if the “rules” don’t agree—these are real-guy attributes.

So, what it comes down to, I think: We gotta have real guys. Good leaders have to be real guys. (Turns out bad leaders pretty much always are, too. I mean, not many people run for high office because of a burning desire to follow the rules. They want to BE the rules. But I digress.)

Someone who is in charge, and has to weigh difficult situations, and make tough decisions, will have to chart their own course sometimes. And it is certain that many of the people watching them will accuse them of being a rule to themselves, true or not. They are definitely going to come up short in the “petty consistency” department. But the last thing you want is a guy like Javert trying to run things. No, what we need is real guys of good conscience and good judgment and pure heart.

And for the rest of us, the little guys? Hey- if the real guy in question qualifies morally, we’d better learn to shrug and give him the benefit of the doubt. After all, they’re the real guys. And when we want to call them on the carpet over the rules, we need to examine ourselves carefully. Is it really about the rules? Hmmm? Or is it about control? A GOOD pastor will inevitably have a hundred people snapping at his heels whining about bruised minutiae. I can promise you that these complainers aren’t really that excited about the minutiae. It’s an avenue to control. It’s a bid for significance. We little guys have to take it easy on the good real guys. They’ve got better things to do than pray at 100 little-guy idols.