The Trap of Self and the Song of the Free Text: Proverbs 29:6
Introduction: Two Paths, Two Destinies
The book of Proverbs is relentlessly antithetical. It does not present us with a complicated spectrum of gray moral options. It presents us with two paths, and only two. There is the way of the wise and the way of the fool. There is the path of the righteous and the path of the wicked. There is the man who fears God and the man who scoffs. And here, in our text, we are presented with the ultimate outcome of these two paths: one man is trapped, and the other man is singing. One is ensnared, the other is glad.
This is not a suggestion; it is a spiritual law, as fixed and certain as the law of gravity. Our modern sensibilities recoil from such sharp distinctions. We want to believe that the evil man is not so much evil as he is misunderstood, a victim of his circumstances. We want to imagine that his transgression is a cry for help, a correctable mistake. And we are tempted to think that the righteous man's joy is a bit naive, perhaps even a fragile defense mechanism against the harsh realities of the world. But the Word of God cuts through this sentimental fog with a sharp, two-edged sword.
The proverb before us sets forth a fundamental truth about the nature of sin and righteousness. Sin is not, in the final analysis, liberating. It is a trap. And righteousness is not, in the final analysis, restrictive. It is the only true liberty. The world inverts this. The world tells you that sin is freedom and that obedience to God is a cage. The billboard, the movie, the university, and the spirit of the age all conspire to sell you the same lie that the serpent sold to our first parents in the Garden: "God is holding out on you. His commands are designed to keep you from your full potential. Break free, and you will be as gods." This proverb is God's rejoinder. It tells us what actually happens when a man follows that advice. He does not become a god; he becomes bait in his own trap.
We must understand that this is not simply a moral observation. It is a description of how the universe is wired. God has built the world in such a way that sin is inherently self-destructive. The machinery of justice is built into the very fabric of creation. The wicked are not just storing up wrath for a future judgment; they are, in the here and now, actively weaving the net that will entangle them. And conversely, the righteous are not just waiting for a future reward; their present path is one of joy and gladness. The two paths have two entirely different atmospheres.
The Text
By transgression an evil man is ensnared,
But the righteous sings with joy and is glad.
(Proverbs 29:6 LSB)
The Self-Tripping Wire (v. 6a)
The first clause lays out the grim physics of sin:
"By transgression an evil man is ensnared..." (Proverbs 29:6a)
Notice the mechanics of this. The man is not ensnared by some external force, some cosmic bad luck, or even, in the first instance, by the direct punitive action of God. He is ensnared by his own transgression. The sin itself is the snare. The bait and the trap are one and the same. The evil man thinks he is using sin to get something he wants, power, pleasure, wealth, autonomy. But all the while, the sin is using him. He is like a man who thinks he has tamed a tiger, right up until the moment it eats him.
The word for "transgression" here carries the sense of rebellion. This is not about an accidental slip-up. This is about a settled course of rebellion against the revealed will of God. The evil man is one who has determined to be his own lawgiver. He rejects God's definitions of good and evil and substitutes his own. This act of rebellion is the first strand of the rope he begins to weave. Every subsequent sin adds another strand, making the cord stronger.
How does this work? Sin promises freedom but delivers bondage. A man tells a lie to get out of a tight spot. He has transgressed. But now he is ensnared. He has to remember the lie. He has to tell other lies to cover the first one. His lie now owns a piece of his mind, his energy, his future. A man indulges in pornography, seeking a moment of illicit pleasure. But the images ensnare his imagination. The transgression rewires his desires, making him a slave to pixels on a screen, and it damages his capacity for true, covenantal intimacy. The sin that promised a thrill now demands a toll, and the toll is his own soul.
This is the great irony of wickedness. The wicked man, in his pursuit of absolute autonomy, becomes the ultimate slave. He is a slave to his passions, a slave to his fears, a slave to the consequences of his own choices. He builds his own prison, brick by brick, and then complains about the accommodations. As Paul says, "Do you not know that when you present yourselves to someone as slaves for obedience, you are slaves of the one whom you obey, either of sin resulting in death, or of obedience resulting in righteousness?" (Romans 6:16). The evil man chooses his master, and his master is sin, and the retirement plan is death.
The world is full of such men. They think they are clever, that they are getting away with it. They are the shrewd businessman cutting ethical corners, the politician selling his vote, the husband cultivating a secret life online. They are all busy setting traps, thinking they are for others, or for no one at all. But the trigger is wired to their own foot. The transgression itself ensures the snare will spring.
The Song of the Justified (v. 6b)
In stark contrast to the man caught in his own tripwire, we have the righteous man.
"But the righteous sings with joy and is glad." (Proverbs 29:6b LSB)
The contrast could not be more complete. One is trapped in silence and despair; the other is free, singing, and glad. Now, who is this righteous man? In the ultimate sense, there is none righteous, no, not one (Romans 3:10). If righteousness were a standard we had to achieve on our own merit, then we would all be in the snare. There would be no one singing. The song of the righteous is not the proud anthem of the self-made man. It is the grateful hymn of the justified man.
The righteous man is the one who has been declared righteous by God, through faith in Jesus Christ. His righteousness is an alien righteousness, a gifted righteousness. He is the man who saw the snare of his own sin, who felt the cords tightening, and who cried out for a deliverer. And a deliverer came. Jesus Christ walked into the snare for us. He took the full consequence of our transgression upon Himself. On the cross, He was ensnared by our sin, so that we might be set free to sing.
This is why the righteous man sings. His song is not based on his flawless performance. It is based on Christ's finished work. He is not joyful because he never stumbles; he is joyful because when he stumbles, he has an Advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous (1 John 2:1). His gladness is not rooted in the absence of trouble, but in the presence of God. He is glad because his sins, which are many, are forgiven. He is glad because he is no longer his own, but belongs to a good and sovereign Master. He is glad because the path of obedience, which the world calls bondage, he has found to be the path of true and lasting freedom.
This joy is a robust and resilient thing. It is not the flimsy happiness that depends on circumstances. The righteous man can sing in prison, like Paul and Silas. He can rejoice in tribulation, knowing that it produces endurance (Romans 5:3). Why? Because he is not ensnared. The troubles of this world are light and momentary afflictions; they are not a trap. The true trap is sin, and from that trap, he has been gloriously and eternally liberated. His feet are on a broad place, and God has put a new song in his mouth, a song of praise to our God (Psalm 40:2-3).
Conclusion: The Great Exchange
So we are left with this sharp and simple choice. Every man is either weaving his own snare or singing a new song. There is no third option. You are either entangled by your rebellion or you are made glad by God's righteousness.
The lie of the devil is that you can have the pleasure of the transgression without the pain of the snare. He whispers that you are the exception, that you can outsmart the moral fabric of the universe. He is, as he has always been, a liar and the father of lies. Every sin is a down payment on a future sorrow. Every act of rebellion tightens the cords of bondage.
But the gospel is the glorious announcement that the trap has been broken. The great hunter, Satan, has been disarmed. The Lord Jesus Christ, our champion, willingly stepped into the snare of death that was set for us. He was caught, so that we might go free. He was silenced in the tomb, so that we might be given an everlasting song. He took our transgression, and He gives us His righteousness.
If you are here today and you feel the tightening of the snare, if you are caught in a pattern of sin that you cannot break, the answer is not to struggle harder in your own strength. That only pulls the knot tighter. The answer is to look to the one who broke the snare. Confess your transgression. Abandon your rebellion. Put your trust in Jesus Christ, who is the righteousness of God. He will cut the cords. He will lift you out of the pit. He will set your feet upon a rock. And He will put a new song in your mouth. You will move from being the ensnared to being the singer, from the trapped to the glad. And that is a reason to rejoice.