Good Men Don't Do Nothin'

“If anyone, then, knows the good they ought to do and doesn’t do it, it is sin for them” (Jas. 4:17).

After World War I, the Irish poet Yeats, watching Europe fall apart, wrote:

“The best lack all conviction, while the worst are full of passionate intensity.”

Observing the cultural collapse happening all around him, Yeats chalked it up to good people being hesitant, unsure, or silent, while the wicked were bold, loud, and aggressive.

Another Irishman believed the same:

“The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is that good men do nothing.” — Edmond Burke

I wonder though, from the biblical perspective, are “good men” ever presented as those who “do nothing”? Passivity in the face of evil — or inaction even when evil is not directly confronting us — is itself evidence that one is not good.

It seems to me, Scripture never flatters passive inaction as “good.” When the Bible shows someone who “does nothing” in the face of evil, the point is not that they are good-but-quiet — it is that their silence reveals a deeper flaw: fear, unbelief, negligence, or moral compromise.

One can’t help but think of Eli, Judge of Israel, who himself was judged because of his own inaction. His sons, Hophni and Phineas were known reprobates:

“Eli’s sons were scoundrels; they had no regard for the Lord” (1 Sam. 2:12)

“This sin of the young men was very great in the Lord’s sight, for they were treating the Lord’s offering with contempt” (1 Sam. 2:17).

Eli knew his sons were blaspheming, yet he spoke a few mild words, but took no decisive action:

“‘Why are you doing these things?’ Eli said to his sons. ‘I hear about your wicked deeds from all these people. No, my sons; it is not a good report I hear circulating among the LORD’s people’” (1 Sam. 2:23-24).

Sounds like something, doesn’t it? I mean, c’mon, he invokes the Name of the Lord, and he calls their deeds wicked. Surely this is sufficient, and it’s all on Hophni and Phineas now to make the change. Not so fast.

God tells Eli:

“You have honored your sons more than Me by fattening yourselves with the best of all the offerings of My people Israel” (1 Sam. 2:29).

“I told him that I would judge his house forever for the iniquity of which he knows, because his sons blasphemed God and he did not restrain them” (1 Sam. 3:13).

What Eli said and whatever else he did, God was not impressed. In fact, not only does He speak of Eli’s “rebuke” as inaction, but calls him out for “honoring his sons more” than the Lord.

Eli’s failure to act showed misplaced loyalties and spiritual cowardice. “Good men” do not do nothing, cowards do nothing.

Take another example from the Old Testament in Esther.

Her cousin, Mordecai, warns her:

“For if you remain silent at this time, relief and deliverance for the Jews will arise from another place, but you and your father’s family will perish. And who knows but that you have come to your royal position for such a time as this?” (Esther 4:14)

Being queen of Persia, she was in the best position to act and expose the evil plot of Haman to destroy God’s people. Her silence would not have been neutral — it would have been sin (Jas. 4:17).

We shouldn’t be surprised to see Jesus rejecting the idea of “good but inactive.”

“He that is not with Me is against Me, and he that gathers not with Me scatters abroad” (Matt. 12:30).

There is no neutral zone. Not gathering is scattering. Doing nothing is doing harm.

Jesus rebukes inaction:

“You of little faith, why are you afraid?” (Matt. 8:26)

“O fools, and slow of heart to believe…” (Lk. 24:25)

Fear and slowness to act come from unbelief…or just plain, old laziness.

In the Parable of the Talents, the one-talent-servant didn’t steal the money. He simply buried it. Yet his Master says, “You wicked and lazy servant” (Matt. 25:26).

Inaction = wickedness.

Like Eli, technically he “did” something —which amounted to nothing in his Master’s eyes. He’s condemned not for what he did, but for what he refused to do.

Scripture consistently contrasts such fearful inaction with the decisive obedience of the faithful.

• Abraham obeys immediately (Gen. 22:3).

• Joshua and Caleb speak boldly (Num. 14:6–9).

• David runs toward Goliath (1 Sam. 17:48).

• Nehemiah builds despite derision (Neh. 4).

• Jesus sets His face toward Jerusalem (Lk. 9:51).

• Paul preaches despite threats to his life (Acts 20:22–24).

The righteous move forward.

The wicked delay, excuse, rationalize, hide, deflect, blame, stay passive. Inaction exposes unbelief. A “good man” who does nothing isn’t good. He is failing God. Scripture doesn’t treat passivity as harmless. It treats it as sin, disobedience, and unfaithfulness.

What about the times God calls us to wait? “Waiting on the Lord” in Scripture isn’t a passive activity, it’s continued trust, obedience, and contentment in the face of circumstances you have no power to change. “Be still” and “wait on the Lord” mean “stop fearing,” not “stop obeying.” Biblical waiting never suspends obedience; it sustains it.

Christ has placed talents in our hands: “Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others, as faithful stewards of God’s grace in its various forms” (1 Pet. 4:10). Not everyone is gifted for every task, but different gifts do not remove universal duties.

“Let your light so shine…” (Matt. 5:16)


“Exhort one another daily…” (Heb. 3:13)


“Be steadfast… always abounding in the work of the Lord…” (1 Cor. 15:58)

Gifts determine how we serve — never whether we serve.

Passive “good men” do not exist in Scripture.


Only obedient or disobedient men.

And here is where the weight of this entire discussion falls — not merely on Eli, or Esther, or the one-talent servant, but on you and me.

Sin is not only what we commit — it is also what we omit. Which means every one of us stands exposed. Every delayed obedience. Every excuse. Every moment we buried conviction because courage felt too costly. Every good we “intended” to do but never did. It all indicts us.

And this is why the Gospel is our only hope.

Because when we were enemies, Christ acted.


When we were indifferent, Christ intervened.


When we were spiritually dead, Christ came.

“For while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us.” (Rom. 5:8)

Jesus never delayed obedience. He never hesitated to act. He never waited for “better circumstances.” He “set His face toward Jerusalem” (Lk. 9:51) and walked into the jaws of death — willingly for all of us.

He did the will of God without pause, without fear, without compromise.

And now He calls you to come to Him in the only way Scripture permits — in obedient, repentant faith:

“Repent therefore, and turn back, that your sins may be blotted out…” (Acts 3:19)


“He that believes and is baptized shall be saved…” (Mk. 16:16)

This is not passivity. This is not mere agreement. This is turning from sin, stepping into the light, confessing Christ before men, being united with Him in baptism, and rising to walk in newness of life (Rom. 6:4).

And once you rise with Him, you do not return to the passivity of the old life. You walk in the active obedience of the new:

“For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works…” (Eph. 2:10)

The question now is not whether you know enough.


The question is whether you will act on what you already know.

Knowledge unused becomes judgment. Obedience is what God desires.