Does being gentle mean being weak?
Some people think so. When Paul talked about gentleness, he used a Greek word that can also be translated “meekness”—which is, in turn, an English word often mistaken for “weakness.”
But is that what Paul was implying? That the Spirit of God produces … weakness?
In his Gospel account, the apostle John introduced Jesus Christ this way: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through Him, and without Him nothing was made that was made. … And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us” (John 1:1-3, 14).
The Word, the divine being who came to earth as Jesus Christ, was the same divine being through whom the world we live in was created—and not just our world, but the universe and everything in it. Every star, every planet, every atom in all of time and space exists because He made it so.
And yet during His time on earth, Jesus said, “Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light” (Matthew 11:29-30).
Jesus Christ, the Son of God, the unchanging, immortal, eternal, all-powerful Creator of the universe, is a long, long way from being weak.
But He is gentle. And if we are truly being led by the Spirit of God, we need to be gentle too.
The difference between gentleness and weakness is pretty straightforward:
Weakness is a state of being. Gentleness is a choice.
Praotes, the word Paul used for gentleness, is “the most untranslatable of words” according to New Testament scholar William Barclay. Aristotle used it to describe the balance between “excessive anger and excessive angerlessness,” or knowing how to express anger always at the right time and never at the wrong time.
A form of the word is used to describe tamed animals under a master’s control—animals possessing strength and proper restraint at the same time. HELPS Word-Studies describes praotes as meaning “gentle strength,” or strength tempered by gentleness. Imagine holding a trinket made of glass—you wouldn’t say you’re being weak with it; you’d say you’re being gentle with it. You could shatter it, but you choose not to.
That’s part of what gentleness looks like. But another part is a willingness to take blows we don’t deserve. Jesus said, “I tell you not to resist an evil person. But whoever slaps you on your right cheek, turn the other to him also. If anyone wants to sue you and take away your tunic, let him have your cloak also” (Matthew 5:39-40).
That’s an idea Peter explored in depth—an idea he linked to meekness and gentleness: “But sanctify the Lord God in your hearts, and always be ready to give a defense to everyone who asks you a reason for the hope that is in you, with meekness and fear; having a good conscience, that when they defame you as evildoers, those who revile your good conduct in Christ may be ashamed. For it is better, if it is the will of God, to suffer for doing good than for doing evil” (1 Peter 3:15-17).
In this life, you’re going to be mistreated. People are going to lie to you, take advantage of you and cheat you—and how you respond in those moments is going to reflect on the God you claim to serve. Will others be able to see Christ in us if we respond to suffering by seeking revenge?
Peter continued, “For Christ also suffered once for sins, the just for the unjust, that He might bring us to God. … Therefore, since Christ suffered for us in the flesh, arm yourselves also with the same mind” (1 Peter 3:18; 4:1).
When we’re slapped, literally or metaphorically, others will be watching. Responding with the gentleness of Christ is rarely easy, but it’s part of who God calls us to be.
But there’s more to the story. Gentleness isn’t the complete and total refusal to use strength—it’s tempered strength. It’s the ability to use the right amount of strength at the right time, in the right way and for the right reason.
That’s not easy.
When Martha had her focus in the wrong place, Christ’s rebuke was a gentle one: “Martha, Martha, you are worried and troubled about many things” (Luke 10:41). But when Peter made his own blunder, Christ’s words were sharp: “Get behind Me, Satan! You are an offense to Me, for you are not mindful of the things of God, but the things of men” (Matthew 16:23).
Different people, different situations—but both of these responses came from the same Jesus who was “gentle and lowly in heart.” He knew that Peter needed bluntness in order to learn and grow, but He also knew that the same approach would probably hurt Martha more than it helped. Because He was gentle, Jesus took those factors into consideration as He dealt with both circumstances.
Throughout the Gospel account, it’s clear that gentleness—that is, gentle strength—played a role in everything Jesus did. An Old Testament prophecy about Him promised, “He will not cry out, nor raise His voice, nor cause His voice to be heard in the street. A bruised reed He will not break, and smoking flax He will not quench; He will bring forth justice for truth” (Isaiah 42:2-3). He didn’t come to earth to crush the spirits of the weak—the bruised reeds and smoking flax, barely hanging on—He came to strengthen them.
But at the same time, He took action when it was necessary. When He saw money changers taking financial advantage of worshippers at God’s temple, He drove the animals out of the temple area and “poured out the changers’ money and overturned the tables. And He said to those who sold doves, ‘Take these things away! Do not make My Father’s house a house of merchandise!’” (John 2:15-16).
With just a handful of examples, it’s obvious that different situations call for different levels of gentleness. What’s less obvious, though, is how to tell those situations apart.
While there’s no one-size-fits-all rule for determining how to employ gentle strength, there are some general principles we can use to determine what’s wise and what’s not.
The first thing to consider is that gentleness is only part of the fruit of the Spirit. None of those parts exist independently. Instead, they all build on and interact with each other. That means we’re not just talking about gentleness. We’re talking about a gentleness that’s driven by a godly love, bolstered by longsuffering and kindness and rooted in goodness, joy, peace and faithfulness.
The key to using gentle strength is to understand that, ultimately, it’s about the other person. Godly love prompts us to focus on the well-being of others, and gentleness is that focus in action. We temper our strength by choosing to act in whatever way will prove most helpful to the person we’re interacting with.
For God, who knows everything and is responsible for everything, sometimes that strength takes the form of tough love. In the Old Testament, when God was in the process of punishing Israel for their wickedness and unfaithfulness, He asked, “How can I give you up, Ephraim? How can I hand you over, Israel? … My heart churns within Me; My sympathy is stirred. I will not execute the fierceness of My anger” (Hosea 11:8-9).
Even though God’s people would have to suffer because of their continued sins, God’s ultimate plan was to bring them back and resettle them after they’d learned their lesson:
“I will heal their backsliding, I will love them freely, for My anger has turned away from him. … Ephraim shall say, ‘What have I to do anymore with idols?’ I have heard and observed him. I am like a green cypress tree; your fruit is found in Me” (Hosea 14:4, 8).
Every time we have a reason to be forceful with others, the important question to ask ourselves is, “Why?” What is our motivation for using strength in this situation? Is it really for the good of the other person, or are we acting out of frustration or bitterness?
When we’re wronged or mistreated, human nature encourages us to get even at the first opportunity—to give our enemies a taste of their own medicine. But the Bible tells us to do exactly the opposite—to turn the other cheek, rather than lash out: “Do not say, ‘I will recompense evil’; wait for the LORD, and He will save you” (Proverbs 20:22).
That’s true whether we’re in a position of authority or we just find ourselves with the opportunity to get back at those who have treated us poorly.
At the end of the day, gentleness is about using as little force as possible to do what needs to be done, acting out of love instead of hate and trusting God to handle the injustices for us.
Is that easy? No. Does it come naturally? Not even close. Growing in gentleness takes work and practice and usually comes with a lot of missteps along the way—but without it, we can’t truly follow in Jesus Christ’s footsteps:
“For to this you were called, because Christ also suffered for us, leaving us an example, that you should follow His steps: ‘Who committed no sin, nor was deceit found in His mouth’; who, when He was reviled, did not revile in return; when He suffered, He did not threaten, but committed Himself to Him who judges righteously; who Himself bore our sins in His own body on the tree, that we, having died to sins, might live for righteousness—by whose stripes you were healed” (1 Peter 2:21-24).
Again and again, Jesus showed us what true gentleness looks like. Growing in the fruit of the Spirit means learning to do likewise.
