The Unexpected Power of Humility: When Being Right Isn't Enough

There's something profoundly countercultural about the image of Jesus riding into Jerusalem on a donkey. Think about it—the Son of God, possessing infinite wisdom, authority, and power, could have arranged any entrance He desired. He could have commanded eight white stallions. He could have orchestrated a display befitting earthly royalty. Instead, He chose a humble donkey.

This wasn't an accident. It was a deliberate choice that reveals something essential about what God values: humility.

Redefining Humility

When we think of humility, we often default to Webster's somewhat circular definitions—being humble, lacking arrogance. But the biblical understanding goes much deeper. Humility is power under control. It's not thinking less of yourself; it's thinking of yourself less.
This distinction matters enormously. Jesus embodied perfect humility not because He lacked power, but precisely because He possessed all power and chose to restrain it for our benefit. His humility flowed from supreme confidence—not self-confidence in the worldly sense, but confidence rooted in His identity as God.

And here's where it gets personal for us: Where should our confidence come from?

The Source of True Confidence

The world tells us to build self-confidence based on our talents, accomplishments, skills, and achievements. But for believers, this creates an uncomfortable tension. Apart from God, we are nothing. Every good gift, every ability, every talent we possess comes from Him. He knew us before we were born. He created each of us uniquely—there has never been, nor will there ever be, another person with your exact DNA, your fingerprints, your purpose.

Our confidence doesn't come from inflating ourselves. It comes from knowing we are children of God, made in His image, loved unconditionally, and created with intention. As Rick Warren says, "There may be accidental parents, but there are no accidental children."
This God-centered confidence becomes the foundation for genuine humility.

The Words We Wish We'd Said

We've all experienced it—that moment three days after a conversation when we suddenly think, "You know what I should have said?" It happens on playgrounds, in doctor's offices, with spouses, children, coworkers, and supervisors. Very few of us possess the gift of always saying exactly the right thing in the moment.

But what if the issue isn't just what we should have said, but why we should control our tongues in the first place?

Ephesians 4:1-3 urges us to "walk worthy of the calling you have received with all humility and gentleness, with patience, bearing with one another in love, making every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace."

There are many good reasons to control our speech: God commands it, it keeps us out of trouble, it smooths relationships. But one reason stands above the rest: The joy of uplifting our brothers and sisters in Christ is greater than the satisfaction of being right.

The Charcoal vs. Propane Principle

Imagine a spirited discussion about barbecue fuel—charcoal versus propane. It's a matter of opinion, nothing eternal hangs in the balance. But suppose you have biblical evidence to support your position (John 21:9 mentions Jesus cooking fish over a charcoal fire, after all).
Now you have what feels like righteous ammunition. You could press your case, drive your point home, prove you're correct.

But here's the crucial question: What matters more—that the person you're talking to knows they are loved, important, and valuable to God, or that they know you're right about barbecue fuel?

The answer seems obvious when we're talking about something trivial. But we engage in these same dynamics with issues that feel weightier—political opinions, financial philosophies, preferences about worship styles, clothing choices, or a thousand other matters of personal conviction.

The principle remains the same: It is more important that people know they are loved, important, and valuable than that they know we're right.

This is another way of saying, "You are more important to me than my opinion. I love you more than I love being correct."

Directing People to the Cross

Here's a guarantee: No one will come to a saving knowledge of Jesus Christ because we convince them we're right about anything. Our correctness, our superior arguments, our winning debates—none of these bring people to the Lord.

What does bring people to Jesus? When our words and actions consistently direct them toward the cross rather than toward ourselves.

As believers, whether speaking to other Christians or to non-believers, we are always working to point people to Jesus. Our words can either draw people toward Him or push them away. They matter more than we often realize.

Romans 12:10 instructs us to "love one another with brotherly affection" and to "outdo one another in showing honor." This isn't about creating idols of people—it's about recognizing their God-given worth and treating them accordingly.

When Hard Conversations Are Necessary

Of course, verbal humility doesn't mean we never speak difficult truths. Sometimes we must have hard conversations, especially when matters of eternal significance are at stake.

If someone believes their salvation depends on something other than faith in Jesus Christ—whether it's baptism, clothing choices, financial giving, or any other work—we must lovingly correct that misunderstanding. This is too important to ignore.

But even when difficult conversations are necessary, two critical rules apply:

• First, the gloves don't come off. Having to say something hard doesn't give us permission to abandon gentleness, patience, and love. Galatians 6:1 reminds us to restore others "in a spirit of gentleness," always watching ourselves lest we too be tempted.
• Second, it's not an opportunity to slip in our opinions. When we must address an issue of biblical truth, we don't get to tack on our personal preferences as if they carry equal weight. As 2 Timothy 2:24-25 says, "The Lord's servant must not be quarrelsome, but kind to everyone, able to teach, patiently enduring evil, correcting his opponents with gentleness."

The Choice Before Us

Ultimately, we face a choice in our interactions with others: We can experience the satisfaction of being correct, or we can experience the joy of building others up and directing them toward Jesus.

Both feel good in the moment, but only one has eternal significance.

In a thousand years, when we're rejoicing in heaven, we'll look back and realize just how important our words were. We'll see clearly how our choice to love people more than our opinions either drew them closer to Christ or pushed them away.

The question isn't whether we'll ever be right—sometimes we will be. The question is whether being right matters more to us than loving well, speaking with humility, and pointing others to the One who is always right.

As you move through this week, consider: In your conversations, are you more concerned with the satisfaction of being correct or the joy of uplifting others and increasing the chances you'll spend eternity together with them in the presence of the Lord?

The answer to that question reveals whether we've truly understood the power of humility—power under control, demonstrated perfectly by the King who rode into Jerusalem on a donkey.