Proverbs 16 is my favorite chapter in all of Proverbs. The profound truths about God's sovereignty that weave through these verses never fail to captivate me—how "the king's heart is in the hand of the Lord, as the rivers of water: he turneth it whithersoever he will," and how "a man's heart deviseth his way: but the Lord directeth his steps." These are the kinds of passages that usually grab my attention and hold it fast. But this morning, as I worked through this treasured chapter, a different verse stopped me cold: "He that is slow to anger is better than the mighty; and he that ruleth his spirit than he that taketh a city."
This verse cuts straight to the heart of something that many Christian men struggle with in our current cultural moment. We are sick—absolutely sick—of watching weakness and wickedness run amok through our world. We see moral cowardice masquerading as tolerance, we watch truth get trampled in the name of kindness, and we observe men who should be leaders cowering before the latest cultural pressure. In response to this frustration, many of us have developed what we imagine to be warrior personas. We intentionally thin our skin so that we're ready to fight these cultural battles at a moment's notice. We see Psalm 12:8 playing out all around us—"The wicked walk on every side, when the vilest men are exalted"—and we convince ourselves that the solution is to tear down these vile men whenever they rear their heads.
If that description doesn't sound like you, then I'll admit that it is very much me. I have made it a point of pride to be ready for intellectual combat, to have my theological sword sharpened and my apologetic armor polished. I've cultivated a hair-trigger response to error, convinced that silence in the face of falsehood is tantamount to betrayal. But Proverbs 16:32 should throw a flag on that entire approach. Something is fundamentally wrong with a heart set like that.
The first problem is that we're not nearly as mighty as we pretend to be. For all our posturing about being ready to take on the culture, for all our warrior talk and our refusal to back down, most of us couldn't actually take a city if our lives depended on it. We're playing at being soldiers while lacking both the authority and the power to win the battles we're picking. We strut around like we're commanders in some great cosmic army, when in reality we're more like children playing with toy swords, making a lot of noise but accomplishing very little of actual substance.
But here's what really stings: even if we could take a city—even if we had the strength, the resources, and the strategic brilliance to conquer territories—Proverbs 16:32 tells us that the man who rules his spirit is better than such a mighty warrior. Let that sink in. The self-controlled man, the one who is slow to anger, surpasses in value the greatest military conquest. This isn't just saying that spiritual discipline is good; it's saying that spiritual discipline is superior to what we consider the pinnacle of masculine achievement.
This truth becomes even more pointed when we examine Proverbs 17:27-28: "He that hath knowledge spareth his words: and a man of understanding is of an excellent spirit. Even a fool, when he holdeth his peace, is counted wise: and he that shutteth his lips is esteemed a man of understanding." Here we discover that even fools look wise when they hold their peace, yet some of us have made it a point of pride to never hold our peace. We think we must correct every wrong statement, refute every bad argument, and challenge every misguided opinion. We've convinced ourselves that our constant readiness to engage in verbal combat is a mark of strength and faithfulness.
The painful truth is that this attitude reveals our pride more than our righteousness. We want to be thought of as tough, as uncompromising, as men who won't back down. But underneath all of that posturing is a simple desire to be seen as strong and effective. We're not actually concerned with advancing God's kingdom in the most effective way possible; we want people to see us as warriors. We want the reputation that comes with being the guy who always has an answer, who never lets an error slide, who's ready to fight at the drop of a hat.
This is where we need to recognize that God hasn't called us to play this position on His field. Just as He reserves vengeance for Himself—"Vengeance is mine; I will repay, saith the Lord"—He has also reserved the role of ultimate warrior for Himself. When we try to take vengeance into our own hands, we risk God counting our feeble efforts as sufficient punishment, robbing our enemies of the far more thorough justice that God would have brought. Similarly, when we try to fight every cultural battle through our own strength and anger, we may be interfering with the far more effective work that God wants to accomplish.
The Lord has given us clear instructions about our actual assignments. We are to make disciples of all nations, teaching them to observe everything that Christ has commanded. We are to raise our children in the nurture and admonition of the Lord. We are to bear one another's burdens, love one another, and gently restore brothers who have fallen into sin. We are to be slow to anger and rule our spirits. These are the tasks that will actually make a difference in the world.
The irony is that by trying to force victories through our own arrogant manliness, we often accomplish less than we would through patient faithfulness. The hothead who's always ready for a fight may feel like he's making a stand, but he's frequently just making noise. The man who corrects every error may think he's defending truth, but he's often just satisfying his own ego. The warrior who refuses to back down may imagine he's showing strength, but he's usually just revealing his lack of self-control.
When we step back and honestly evaluate our motives, we have to admit that much of our combative attitude stems from pride rather than effectiveness. We weren't going to win those battles anyway. We just wanted to be thought of as the kind of men who would try. We wanted the reputation without the actual results.
The path forward requires genuine humility. We must acknowledge that being slow to anger and ruling our spirits is better than taking a city—even if we could take a city, which we can't. We must recognize that holding our peace often accomplishes more than our clever arguments. We must trust that God is perfectly capable of fighting His own battles while we focus on the work He has actually given us to do.
This doesn't mean we become passive or that we never speak up for truth. It means we become strategic about when and how we engage, always asking whether our response is motivated by genuine love for God's glory and others' good, or by our own desire to be seen as strong and uncompromising. It means we learn to trust God's sovereignty enough to let Him handle the battles that are beyond our calling and capability.
The man who rules his spirit, who is slow to anger, who knows when to speak and when to be silent—this man is better than the mighty. He's better than the city-taker. He's better than the warrior. And he's certainly better than those of us who only play at being warriors while lacking both the power and the calling to actually win the battles we're picking.