Devils Smile at Your Lack of Restraint

In a world that insists pleasure defines virtue and indulging every whim is a civil right, society races toward ruin. A culture allergic to boundaries invites enslavement. When men refuse to resist vice, they poison their bloodline, leaving future generations to inherit their rot. This grim reality ironically sets the perfect stage for reformation.

As redeemed image-bearers, individuals are called to exercise dominion over a world that, like it or not, belongs to Jesus Christ. Dominion is more than lip service; it demands reform, recalling Josiah, who overturned Judah’s disgrace with holy rage.

Reformation, like any structure, requires a foundation resilient to time and pressure. Reformed cultures arise from reformed men—men who ruthlessly subdue their own unruly affections and align themselves with truth, beauty, and goodness.

Clarity here is critical: men ruled by their desires cannot rule the world. The Church’s biggest barrier to cultural influence isn’t external but internal. Coddled sins in its own ranks are the true barricades to reformation. History warns that when the Church loses influence, it often worships the same idols as its pagan counterparts, entangling itself in its own undoing. Reformation is unattainable if the Church mirrors the culture’s vices, for culture is the résumé of religion. If a society’s spiritual foundation is weak, so too will its cultural résumé read as a tale of indulgence.

Reformation, like any structure, requires a foundation resilient to time and pressure. Reformed cultures arise from reformed men—men who ruthlessly subdue their own unruly affections and align themselves with truth, beauty, and goodness.

True reform doesn’t start in the public square; it begins in the private corners of a man’s life. He must love God’s law, shaping his thoughts and affections to it. He must confront his own sin and kill it without remorse. Self-mastery isn’t about restraint for restraint’s sake; it’s about saying “yes” to a life under control, where discipline fuels freedom. Only then can he guide his household and contribute meaningfully to the broader community. The order here is essential. Reforming culture without first mastering oneself is like building castles in the sand. True restraint, far from passivity, equips a man to live freely, unswayed by the opinion of others or his own internal whims.

Reformed men—those who begin with personal transformation—can lead communities and nations toward true transformation. Reformation is not a solo act nor exclusively ecclesiastical; it extends into every corner of Christ’s dominion, shaping every home, every emotion, and every civil code. The gospel promises new creation, not just for individuals but for nations. Without personal restraint, such broad reformation cannot take root.

“Whoever is slow to anger is better than the mighty, and he who rules his spirit than he who takes a city.” —Proverbs 16:32

Restraint is the silent architect of civilization. It tempers wills, reins in tongues, and teaches that life cannot—should not—be lived according to fleeting feelings or cravings. Truly civilized societies, which historically are Christian, neither tolerate lies nor surrender to every impulse.

Yet, restraint is often confused with responsibility. Today’s Christian risks no accusations of excess action. Comfort over conflict, safety over courageous adventure, harmony over holiness—modern restraint often masks cowardice. True restraint builds peace on righteousness, not apathy.

But can reformation occur without confrontation? The answer is clear: conflict is inevitable; truth does not coexist peacefully with falsehood. Lasting reformation demands conflict; it insists on a serrated edge directed first at one’s own sin, then at the world’s idols. Reformation isn’t for the timid. It is for those with chests, those who charge frontlines unafraid of the costs that accompany living by truth.

Reformation is for lions, for those willing to act, to fight, to build. It is for men who delay gratification for a multigenerational vision, who commit to one woman, raise a tribe of children, and leave a lasting legacy.

The failure to reform stems from too many men who loudly affirm reformation doctrines but lack the virtuous hearts of reformers. They pay lip service while living in hidden compromise. Self-indulgence, unrepentant sin, cowardice—these are the cancers eating away at the Church’s witness. Luther needed more than his theses and a hammer; he needed the inner strength that came from slaying his own demons before helping Europe confront hers.

The Reformers’ power was not only in their theology but in their discipline. Their personal lives were scandal-free, giving weight to their words. Their restraint lent gravity to their doctrine.

Reformation is for lions, for those willing to act, to fight, to build. It is for men who delay gratification for a multigenerational vision, who commit to one woman, raise a tribe of children, and leave a lasting legacy.

True reformation demands an unflinching willingness to part ways with cultural idols, no matter how familiar they may seem. Cultural reformation must be built on holiness—a distinction that goes beyond outward forms. A holy people are, by nature, offensive to the unholy; a culture of restraint contrasts with a culture of licentiousness. Truth often costs estrangement, but its value lies in its power to convict and ultimately to reform.