The Glory of Overlooking
Aug 1 2025 - Eric Buresh
“The discretion of a man makes him slow to anger,
And his glory is to overlook a transgression.”
—Proverbs 19:11
With a verse like this, it’s not much of a secret the internal battle I’m fighting at this moment. How we must fight our entrenched tendencies! I remind myself today that it is no great feat to return anger for anger, insult for insult, or coldness for coldness. That is the way of the world, the path well-trodden by proud hearts. But to overlook an offense? There is glory in that. Not the glory of man, but the glory of God reflected in a soul made new by His grace.
“The discretion of a man makes him slow to anger…”—what is this discretion but holy understanding, spiritual insight granted by the Lord? It is not natural to see past the sting of offense. It is not instinctive to hold the tongue when the blood is hot. But when the Spirit grants wisdom, a man sees beyond the moment, beyond the wound, and beyond the offender. He remembers that he, too, has sinned—and has already been forgiven.
This insight is not learned in a day, nor mastered in a single trial. It is born in the quiet places, cultivated through prayer, and ripened in the heat of life’s offenses. It is the fruit of walking with God, of seeing the world through heaven’s lens. And it makes a man patient—not sluggish or passive, but calm, composed, and confident that God will have the last word.
And then comes the higher call still: “It is his glory to overlook a transgression.”
Remember this truth: to overlook a wrong is not to ignore justice, but to imitate grace. It is not to pretend the wrong did not happen, but to choose mercy in the face of it. It is not natural—it is divinely Christlike.
What did the Savior do, O my soul? Did He not overlook your rebellion by bearing it? Did He not forgo vengeance by absorbing the punishment Himself? Did He not pass over your guilt, not by diminishing it, but by drowning it in His blood?
This virtue—like all virtues—is not born in theory, but in daily practice. It is trained in the home, at the workplace, in the church, and on the street. It grows in the moment when you are slighted, overlooked, misjudged, or wounded—and instead of retaliating, you remember Christ. Instead of biting back, you bless. Instead of keeping a record of wrongs, you release it into the nail-scarred hands of the One who judges justly.
This is not easy. It is not cheap. But it is glorious. It is the glory of the Lamb who was silent before His killers. It is the glory of a Father who runs to the prodigal. It is the glory of a disciple who has learned that the way up is down, and the way forward is always through forgiveness.