Charlie is a good friend with a story that’s hard to believe. His father was a member of the Hell’s Angels—a worldwide outlaw motorcycle group. His mother committed suicide when he was seven. Later, his dad remarried a stripper from the bar where he worked as a bouncer. Charlie did not grow up around soft edges. He knew pain, anger, survival, and the kind of toughness that comes from seeing too much too young.

But in his early twenties, Charlie was radically changed when he accepted Jesus into his heart, and as a new believer saved by grace, Charlie came alive with zeal. He was not polished, quiet, or cautious. He was full of fire, the kind that often drives a man who knows exactly what he was rescued from.

One day, Charlie was street evangelizing with another Christ follower. They walked up to a rough-looking man on a corner and began sharing the gospel. The man listened for a while, then asked a sincere question that sounded more like a challenge.

“Doesn’t the Bible say to turn the other cheek?”

Charlie’s friend said, “Yes.”

The man asked, “Well, if I punch you in the face, what will you do?”

Charlie’s friend hesitated, then said, “I guess I’d turn the other cheek.”

Then the man looked at Charlie and asked him the same question.

Charlie replied, “I’ll break your nose!”

I have laughed about that story many times, but I have also pondered it seriously. In that street-corner moment, both men had to decide what obedience looked like in the midst of persecution. Was faithfulness found in absorbing the threat, or in refusing to be intimidated by it?

That question is not always simple, because the flesh can twist either response. It can make fear look like peace and anger appear to be courage. In that moment when the threat occurred, both men could have been wrong for different reasons. Charlie’s friend might have been trusting God, or he could have been afraid. Charlie might have been courageous, or he could have allowed pride to take over.

Dr. James Dobson presses this question from another angle in his book, When God Doesn’t Make Sense, when he asks:

“Just how tough is your faith? How secure is mine? Will we permit the Lord to use our weakness, our disability, our disappointment, our inadequacy, to accomplish His purposes? Will you and I worship and serve this Master even in suffering? Does our ‘expectation’ as followers of Jesus leave room for frustration and imperfection? Does the Word have anything to say to us here about how we live our lives and what causes us to complain? It certainly does!”

He points to the Apostle Paul, who wrote to the Philippians while imprisoned in Rome. Paul had every reason to complain, yet he wrote, “Rejoice in the Lord always,” and “do not be anxious about anything.” He also said, “I have learned the secret of facing plenty and hunger, abundance and need. I can do all things through him who strengthens me” (Philippians 4:4, 6, 12–13, ESV).

That Scripture speaks courage, but not the kind that comes from being loud, harsh, or naturally bold. Paul had learned to live under Christ’s rule in the very places where his flesh wanted to complain, control, escape, or quit.

By “the flesh,” I mean the part of us that still resists Christ. It is not only bodily desire. It is also fear, pride, resentment, self-protection, and the old ways of learning to survive without trusting God.

That is why the flesh aspect may cause us to feel anxious in one moment and angry the next. Sometimes it tells us to stay quiet when we should speak, avoid a hard conversation, and confuse fear with wisdom. Other times it tells us to strike back, win the argument, protect our pride, and consider harshness to be boldness.

But when a threat or temptation confronts us, the question is not whether we will respond, but how. Will we answer from defensiveness, pride, and self-protection, or will we take up “the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God” (Ephesians 6:17, ESV)? God’s Word doesn’t train us to lash out in the flesh; it teaches and enables us to stand, speak, resist, endure, and obey.

We see this clearly when Jesus was tempted in the wilderness. Satan came to Him with Scripture on his lips, twisting God’s Word for his own purpose. That is not so different from the man on the street corner using “turn the other cheek” as a test rather than a sincere desire to obey God. But Jesus did not cower, and He did not strike back in pride. He answered the enemy with Scripture appropriately used, and refused to let fear or provocation rule Him.

Paul says in Galatians 5, “Walk by the Spirit, and you will not gratify the desires of the flesh” (verse 16). And in verse 22, he tells us what that looks like: “The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.”

Those are not weak qualities. They are virtues that reveal that God is governing a person who could act from the flesh, but doesn’t.

A Spirit-led man can be gentle without being weak. He can be strong without being cruel. He can speak when truth requires it and remain quiet when humility is needed.

That means courage runs deeper than temperament. Natural boldness is not the same as spiritual courage, and natural quietness is not the same as meekness. Christ does not simply improve our personalities. He brings the whole person under His rule.

So I have to ask myself: Am I

• remaining quiet because I’m trusting God, or because I’m scared?
• speaking because something true needs to be said, or from a spirit of pride?
• calling it courage when it’s really anger?
• assuming it’s peace when it’s really avoidance?

Those questions should lead us back to our dependence on God. We learn to walk by the Spirit through repentance, prayer, trust, and obedience. When we see the flesh at work in our lives, we should confess it quickly and submit the next moment to Christ.

That brings me back to the story of Charlie and his friend. I understand both responses. Part of me would have wanted to take the blow and call it obedience, but the flesh part of me would have preferred to retaliate and call it strength.

However, Christian courage is the strength to obey God when fear says, “Hide,” and pride says, “Strike back.” It’s neither cowardice nor cruelty. It’s a man learning to be ruled by the Holy Spirit instead of his own reactions.