I ALSO SAW under the sun this example of wisdom that greatly impressed me: 14There was once a small city with only a few people in it. And a powerful king came against it, surrounded it and built huge siegeworks against it. 15Now there lived in that city a man poor but wise, and he saved the city by his wisdom. But nobody remembered that poor man. 16So I said, “Wisdom is better than strength.” But the poor man’s wisdom is despised, and his words are no longer heeded.
17The quiet words of the wise are more to be heeded
than the shouts of a ruler of fools.
18Wisdom is better than weapons of war,
but one sinner destroys much good.
10:1As dead flies give perfume a bad smell,
so a little folly outweighs wisdom and honor.
2The heart of the wise inclines to the right,
but the heart of the fool to the left.
3Even as he walks along the road,
the fool lacks sense
and shows everyone how stupid he is.
4If a ruler’s anger rises against you,
do not leave your post;
calmness can lay great errors to rest.
5There is an evil I have seen under the sun,
the sort of error that arises from a ruler:
6Fools are put in many high positions,
while the rich occupy the low ones.
7I have seen slaves on horseback,
while princes go on foot like slaves.
8Whoever digs a pit may fall into it;
whoever breaks through a wall may be bitten by a snake.
9Whoever quarries stones may be injured by them;
whoever splits logs may be endangered by them.
10If the ax is dull
and its edge unsharpened,
more strength is needed
but skill will bring success.
11If a snake bites before it is charmed,
there is no profit for the charmer.
12Words from a wise man’s mouth are gracious,
but a fool is consumed by his own lips.
13At the beginning his words are folly;
at the end they are wicked madness—
14and the fool multiplies words.
No one knows what is coming—
who can tell him what will happen after him?
15A fool’s work wearies him;
he does not know the way to town.
16Woe to you, O land whose king was a servant
and whose princes feast in the morning.
17Blessed are you, O land whose king is of noble birth
and whose princes eat at a proper time—
for strength and not for drunkenness.
18If a man is lazy, the rafters sag;
if his hands are idle, the house leaks.
19A feast is made for laughter,
and wine makes life merry,
but money is the answer for everything.
20Do not revile the king even in your thoughts,
or curse the rich in your bedroom,
because a bird of the air may carry your words,
and a bird on the wing may report what you say.
Original Meaning
THE LIMITATIONS OF wisdom as well as its benefits have been explored throughout the preceding section of the book (7:1–9:12). We now return to the kind of generally affirming material with which chapter 7 opened. Wisdom may be limited, but it is a good thing. It is particularly necessary when dealing with foolish and wicked rulers, who function in this section of the book as the central illustration of what fools looks like.
The keyword of 7:1–12 was ṭob, “good, better” (also found in 7:14, 18, 20, 26; 8:12, 13, 15; 9:2, 4, 7). This word lies at the heart of 9:13–18 as well, where Qohelet opines that “wisdom is better than strength . . . wisdom is better than weapons of war” (9:16, 18). The event associated with this opinion that impressed Qohelet “greatly” (gadol) is first described. “A powerful [gadol] king” once besieged a city, throwing up “huge [gadol] siegeworks” around it. Bad times had arrived for this city; indeed, the Hebrew word behind the NIV’s interpretative “siegeworks” is meṣodim, “nets,” the singular of which appears in 9:12 (cf. also 7:26). Here is a city caught, like a bird, in nets. The language is reminiscent of what the Assyrian king Sennacherib has to say about his siege of Jerusalem in 701 B.C.:
As to Hezekiah, the Jew, he did not submit to my yoke, I laid siege to 46 of his strong cities, walled forts and to the countless small villages in their vicinity, and conquered them. . . . Himself I made a prisoner in Jerusalem, his royal residence, like a bird in a cage. I surrounded him with earthwork in order to molest those who were leaving his city’s gate.1
Qohelet then reflects on the way that wisdom can come to human aid in the midst of snares and nets. Set over against the powerful king is the poor man who is “found” (mṣʾ ) there, meaning either that the king found him there or that he happened to live there (as in the NIV). He is a good counterpoint to the king, for no one would have expected much from him by way of either intellectual or physical power (cf., e.g., Prov. 14:20; 18:23; 19:7, for some evidence of societal attitudes in Israel toward the poor). Yet it turns out that this particular poor man possessed wisdom, and by means never disclosed to us (a subterfuge perhaps, or wise and eloquent speech), he was able to save the city where others could not have done so. Truly “wisdom makes one wise man more powerful than ten rulers in a city” (Eccl. 7:19). That is why “the quiet words of the wise are more to be heeded than the shouts of a ruler of [or better, ‘among’] fools” (9:17). Noise is no substitute for astute judgment.
Yet having read his words to this point, we do not expect Qohelet to fail to offer qualifications of his praise of wisdom, or at least its efficacy in human life. The qualifications are found in latter parts of verses 15–16 and 18. Verse 15b tells us that even after the extraordinary deliverance of the city, the poor man was forgotten. Even though he had proved himself wise, he found himself disregarded once the danger passed—as unvalued as he had been before-hand. Verse 16b reads like a generalization from the particular case rather than a further reference to the particular (as in the NIV): “The poor man’s wisdom is despised, and his words are no longer heeded.”
This incident had proved beyond doubt the value of wisdom, and it might have been assumed that this would have made a difference in people’s attitudes towards poor people who happened also to be wise. But no! The implication of verses 15–17 is that wealth and social class are far more impressive to people, generally speaking, than wisdom and that people will listen more readily to people of great wealth and high social class than to a poor but wise man (they should “heed” the wise man’s words, v. 17, but they do not thus “heed” them, v. 16). It only takes one shouting fool (here “sinner,” v. 18, again underlining the connection between folly and wickedness) to persuade the masses of the rightness of his cause and so to nullify the truth of the statements that “wisdom is better than [ṭoba] strength . . . wisdom is better than [ṭoba] weapons of war,” for one such sinner destroys much “good” (ṭoba).
We are reminded here of the dangerous woman of 7:26, from whose “nets” (meṣodim, as in 9:14) a good man escapes (mlṭ, as in 9:15), while the sinner (ḥoṭeʾ, as here in 9:18 and earlier in 2:26; 8:12; 9:2) is captured (lkd, often used of the capture of a city in war). In 9:18, the foolish sinner destroys, in his folly, the advantage that wisdom gives over “weapons of war”—the advantage that in the case described had prevented the capture of a city. The sum of the matter is this: Wisdom is not only better than folly (2:13) but is also found to be better than military strength (9:16). It offers a way ahead when bad times befall (cf. 9:11–12). Yet in practice wisdom and its purveyors are undervalued, so that remedies are not found when needed.
This reaffirmation of wisdom’s value, albeit accepting its limited efficacy in the face of human (and particularly a leader’s) folly, leads to a number of sayings concerning wisdom’s value, many of them dealing with leaders and with foolish or wise speech. We begin with a proverb that underlines the truth of 9:15–18. As a fact of experience, contrary to the real worth of things, folly is often valued above wisdom and honor (10:1). That is the sense in which folly “outweighs” wisdom and honor—it is given more weight than it should by those who are doing the evaluating, so that only a small amount of it tips the weighing scales, as it were, in its favor.
A better translation than in the NIV of 10:1b is thus the more literal one: “More precious than wisdom and honor is a little folly.” Two weighty things2 are commonly undervalued in contrast to the one lightweight item against which they are weighed; the worldview described is very different from the one found in passages like Proverbs 3:13–15.
The first part of Ecclesiastes 10:1 is obviously designed to drive home the point through the use of striking imagery, although the precise meaning has proved difficult to determine. The common assumption that the flies are doing something to the perfume (cf. the NIV and many commentators) is, however, to be questioned, which in turn extricates the reader, among other things, from the task of explaining convincingly how “dead flies give perfume a bad smell.” It seems more likely that the two verbs in this line (of which the NIV apparently only renders one) refer to two different actions.
The first verb (bʾš) in the Hiphil refers to the bad smell associated with things dead and/or decaying, as in Exodus 16:24 (the manna “did not stink or get maggots in it”); thus “flies of death [i.e., the flies that infest corpses] emit a stinking odor.” The second verb (nbʿ ) in the Hiphil is only ever used elsewhere in the Old Testament of words “pouring forth” from the mouth (Ps. 19:2; 59:7; 78:2; 94:4; 119:171; 145:7; Prov. 1:23; 15:2, 28; cf. the Qal form in Prov. 18:4); thus, “they pour forth scented oil.” Spices and perfumes have been used throughout history to disguise the smell of decaying bodies (e.g., 2 Chron. 16:14, where Heb. rqḥ, which lies behind “scented” in Eccl. 10:1, reappears in reference to “spices” placed in King Asa’s tomb).
The associations of 10:1a, then, are with a dead body in terms of both its true and its apparent “smell.” “Flies of death” may simply be a colorful way of referring to such a body, through the literary figure of synecdoche, where one aspect of something (here the flies that cover it) stands for the whole thing (see comments on 2:8).3 At the same time, it seems obvious that behind the imagery here Qohelet has a real plural subject in mind, namely, those “fools” whose words so often prevail in public discourse. The general context and the particular use of the verb nbʿ of the flow of “scented oil” suggest this. But this is not all. We may also note Proverbs 13:5, the only other place in which the imperfect Hiphil of bʾš appears and which should be translated thus (rather than as in NIV, which accepts an unsupported emendation):
The righteous person hates a lie, but a wicked person emits a stinking odor and is put to shame.
The parallelism clearly suggests that “emits a stinking odor” is a reference to deceitful speech. We may add to this that the Hebrew word šemen, “oil,” is itself used of wicked and deceitful speech in Psalm 55:21 and Proverbs 5:3. The words of fools are foul-smelling words of death (Prov. 5:5; 14:12), then, yet they are scented sufficiently to lead the majority of people to value them above the words of life, since oil is a precious commodity. People prefer the gushing, oily utterances of the wicked to the bubbling brook that is the fountain of wisdom (Prov. 18:4).
Verses 2–3 develop the general point about the bizarre and different choices that people make in life. The inner lives (“hearts”) of the wise and foolish persons are set in completely different directions. The fool has no idea, in fact, of his destination and how to get there: “His heart is lacking/deficient” (Heb. libbo ḥaser; NIV, “the fool lacks sense”). This is connected with listening to the words of fools rather than to the wise, for “the lips of the righteous nourish many, but fools die for lack of judgment” (baḥasar-leb, Prov. 10:21).
The final part of verse 3 is ambiguous in the Hebrew (lit.): “He says to all he is a fool.” Has listening to foolish words in turn produced further foolish speech (the one who is in fact a fool calls everyone else a fool)? Or is it simply that he proclaims to everyone by his attitude and actions that he himself is a fool? Or are these the words of the heart, pictured as having abandoned him on the journey and now denouncing him to anyone who will listen?
The launching pad for this whole section was the contrast between the wise poor man and the rich and foolish “ruler” (mošel) in 9:13–18. Thus, we now focus in 10:4–7 on the figure of the “ruler” (mošel, 10:4, also called šalliṭ in 10:5). The advice of verse 4 is directed to the wise person at court and is similar to that in the Masoretic text of 8:3, although we are clearly dealing with the noisy, angry ruler of 9:17 rather than merely with the strong-willed king of 8:2–9. Faced with such a person, abandoning one’s post is not a wise option (since this will presumably lead to further anger and perhaps even more severe punishment). Quiet and soothing words are still the best approach (9:17; cf. Prov. 16:14). This advice is sharpened by the double use of Hebrew nwḥ: “Do not leave your post; calmness can lay . . . to rest.” Whether the “errors” belong to the courtier or the king is not clear.
Verses 5–7 further elucidate the kind of foolish behavior that such rulers indulge in, preferring as they do to promote and to take advice from people who share their foolish outlook: “Fools are put in many high positions.” The antithesis to fools here, “the rich,” is perhaps at first sight surprising after 9:13–18. The point of that passage, however, was to argue that wisdom ought to be heeded regardless of the social class of the wise person; it was not to argue that all poor people are wise and capable of roles in government. Qohelet’s concern in 10:6–7 is not with the individual case—he does not elsewhere equate riches with wisdom any more than he equates folly with poverty (nor, for that matter, “princes” with good leadership, v. 16, and those of humble origins with bad leadership, 4:13–16).
It was a societal reality in the ancient Near East, however (as in many societies since), that those found at the royal court, and therefore the sort of “wise men” who are here under consideration, generally also possessed wealth and influence. It is interference with this general order of things to which Qohelet objects (cf. Prov. 19:10; 30:21–23): social upheaval in which those ill-equipped for government are elevated to high positions above those with wisdom and experience.4
Verses 8–9 have in common that they concern unforeseen happenings in which a person suffers hurt. The completion of everyday tasks—the digging of pits, the demolition of walls, the quarrying of stone, and the splitting of logs—result not in satisfaction and well-being but in injury. The context suggests that the figure of the angry and foolish king with his unpredictable policies is still at the forefront of Qohelet’s mind, although the truth that “no one knows what is coming” (v. 14) is also a general one that has been articulated more than once in the book. It is a risky occupation being a courtier in such a royal court, for even mundane and straightforward tasks may turn out to have hidden dangers. The royal “snake” may bite (vv. 8, 11) before it is charmed by the snake charmer (lit., “master of the tongue”), that is, the wise man with his soothing words (v. 4).
Verses 12–14 speak further about the wise man’s speech (which is “gracious” in the sense of winning him favor; cf. Prov. 28:23) in contrast to the self-destructive words of the fool, which begin in folly and end in wicked and verbose madness (cf. “folly” and “madness” in 10:13; also 2:12; see also the injunctions against verbosity in 5:2–3, 7; 6:11). The fool’s words devour him.
The agenda of the syntactically awkward verse 10 in the midst of all this is apparently to urge the wise person to greater effort in his work, so that he will know some “profit” (yitron, v. 11; also in v. 10; NIV, “success”) from it. Even a blunt ax (a metaphor here for the wise man who is not having great success) may succeed in its set task if more strength and wisdom (ḥokma; NIV, “skill”) is brought to that task. It is worth persevering in the business of speaking wise words even when dealing with a fool.
The conjunction of the foolish “multiplying of words” and the reminder that no one knows the future in verse 14 is most reminiscent of 6:11–12. This suggests that the connection between the two parts of 10:14 (which is not explicitly made within the verse itself) has to do with the fool’s illusion that he possesses control over life. The number of his words is in inverse proportion to the extent of his understanding, in that he does not understand the nature of the universe as a succession of “times” over which he has no power (cf. also 7:14; 8:7). He does not know enough, as it were, to find his way into town (cf. 10:3)! The wise person, although he also does not control the times, at least knows that he does not, and his “toil” (ʿamal, v. 15; NIV, “work”) is therefore not the wearisome business endured by the fool. We are reminded here of passages like Ecclesiastes 2:10–24, with its extended reflections on “toil” (ʿamal, also in 3:13; 4:4, 6, 8, 9; 5:15, 18, 19; 6:7, 8:15; 9:9) as something experienced by many as profitless, yet capable of being engaged in with joy and fulfillment when a correct (wise) view is taken of the world. The wise person may not be able to map the universe, but he at least grasps sufficient geography for the task of living everyday life. He “knows the way to town” (cf. v. 15).
The closing verses of chapter 10 again return explicitly to reflect on the ruling classes and their oft-displayed vices and to offer advice on wise behavior when dealing with them. Qohelet envisages two contrasting scenarios (vv. 16–17): A land whose king was previously a “servant” (and/or possibly a youth or child; Heb. naʿar has both connotations) and, being ill-equipped for government (unlike the poor wise youth of 4:13–16), presides over a ruling class that is dissolute and neglectful of responsibility (cf. Isa. 5:11–12, 22–23 for the associations of the kind of feasting referred to here); and a land whose king himself originates from the ruling classes and who keeps a firm hand on the reins of government.
It is the first scenario that is developed in verses 18–19 in terms of the consequences that follow from weak and dissolute government. If a man is lazy with respect to maintaining his house, eventually the roof falls in (better than NIV’s “the rafters sag”) and everyone gets wet! The unique Hebrew meqareh, referring to the roof beams, is likely a clever play on miqreh, which appears in 2:14–15; 3:19; 9:2–3, of the death that is the “fate” of everyone. It is the inevitable consequence of idleness in government that disaster follows for the land.
Verse 19 speaks further of the great illustration of, and perhaps the partial cause of, the idleness, which is the inappropriate banqueting mentioned already in verses 16–17. The NIV does not translate it in the best way, however. A more literal translation is: “For laughter they prepare food, and wine that brings joy to the living; and money meets the demands of [lit., ‘answers’] both.” Qohelet often uses Hebrew kol to express “both” of two options rather than a global “all, everything” (cf. 2:14; 7:15, 18). The implication is that money that may have been well used for “house repairs” has been squandered on partying.
It is not surprising that verse 20 goes on to speak of reviling the king and cursing the rich, for in a country governed in such a way, the temptation to indulge in such bad-mouthing would be great. Yet it is unwise in an autocratic and corrupt state even to think such thoughts, for thoughts can easily spill out into words, and even words spoken in private may find their way back to the rich and powerful, who can do the subject damage.
WE DO NOT know whether Qohelet has in mind a real, historical example of a siege as he writes 9:13–18, nor do we know which siege it might be—although this has not prevented commentators from speculating wildly on the matter, sifting through the historical records especially of the third century B.C. to find a siege they can claim as their own. The most famous biblical siege that illustrates the general point that “the battle [is not] to the strong” (9:11), while not truly corresponding in detail to the story told here, is the one described in 2 Kings 18:17–19:37. Sennacherib, king of Assyria, besieges King Hezekiah of Judah in Jerusalem and taunts him about his own and his God’s powerlessness. Hezekiah’s “wisdom” is to pray and indeed to seek advice from the prophet Isaiah.
Another biblical story that comes to mind concerns the siege of Abel Beth Maacah in 2 Samuel 20, where a wise woman saves the city by advocating the sacrifice of the refugee Sheba. Wisdom takes many forms in the Old Testament, but it is always at least as necessary as strength, even though it is constantly undervalued.
It is the undervaluing of wisdom and the consequences of this in which Qohelet is mainly interested in the current section. At the heart of human existence there is a “madness” (10:13) that leads us to value what we should not and to despise what is truly valuable. The human tragedy is that we are incapable even of enlightened self-interest, much less the disinterested love of God or neighbor. “Even the stork in the heavens knows its times; and the turtledove, swallow, and crane observe the time of their coming” (NRSV); but human beings are, apparently, too stupid to know when the time has come to repent of idolatry, with all the damage it brings to self and society (Jer. 8:7). “The ox knows its owner, and the donkey its master’s crib” (NRSV), but Israel in her perversity does not know the living God (Isa. 1:3).
God’s appeal to his people is to reason it all out (Isa. 1:18)—to come to their senses. It is not by accident that when Nebuchadnezzar’s reason returns to him he praises God, recognizing that “all his works are truth, and his ways are justice” (Dan. 4:37 NRSV). The first lie of the serpent goes deep, however (Gen. 3:1–5), and reason is not easy to come by. We prefer to believe that we are gods-in-waiting and capable of living in our own way and on the basis of our own insights. Thus, folly is valued above wisdom, whether by ordinary people or by those who govern them.
The ordinary fool is characterized in our passage fundamentally as someone who is lost, yet verbose. He talks a good game, but he does not know where the goal line is. The number of his words are in inverse proportion to the quantity of his knowledge. Of the two paths through life described for us in Psalm 1, he has chosen the second. He walks in the counsel of the wicked, he stands in the way of sinners, and his life is as insubstantial as chaff blown away in the wind. He is like those described in Psalm 107:4–5:
Some wandered in desert wastelands,
finding no way to a city where they could settle.
They were hungry and thirsty,
and their lives ebbed away.
The fool walks in the way of evil people (Prov. 4:14)—the way of the wicked who will perish (Ps. 1:6). As he does so, he talks incessantly. He “sits in the seat of mockers,” ridiculing those who take a different path (1:1) and uttering wicked and deceitful words designed to wound and hurt the righteous (36:3; 55:21; 64:3; 94:4) and to draw them away from the truth (Eph. 5:6; 2 Peter 2:18). He even babbles before God, thinking to be heard because of his many words (Matt. 6:7). Proverbs 2:12–15 speaks instructively of just such people
whose words are perverse,
who leave the straight paths
to walk in dark ways,
who delight in doing wrong
and rejoice in the perverseness of evil,
whose paths are crooked
and who are devious in their ways.
The righteous person, on the other hand, knows the way on which he or she is walking and the destination that lies at the end of the road. That individual does not know everything about the universe or even about God and his ways, but he or she “knows the way to town,” depending on God for direction and light for the path:
Make straight your way before me. (Ps. 5:8)
He guides the humble in what is right and teaches them his way. (Ps. 25:9)
Teach me your way, O LORD, and I will walk in your truth. (Ps. 86:11)
Walk in the way of understanding. (Prov. 9:6)
Jesus answered, “I am the way and the truth and the life.” (John 14:6)
He went to the high priest and asked him for letters to the synagogues in Damascus, so that if he found any there who belonged to the Way, whether men or women, he might take them as prisoners to Jerusalem. (Acts 9:1–2).
The righteous person also knows that “when words are many, sin is not absent, but he who holds his tongue is wise” (Prov. 10:19). Moreover, “a man of knowledge uses words with restraint, and a man of understanding is even-tempered” (17:27). The righteous person therefore does not babble on, seeking to disguise lostness with verbosity. He or she chooses words carefully.
Folly is also frequently valued above wisdom by those who govern, who prefer to promote and take advice from people who share their own foolish outlook. The best narrative example from the Old Testament is found in 1 Kings 12:1–11, where Rehoboam is confronted with the question of how his kingship is going to be exercised so that it is consonant with the nature of God’s covenant people. The Israelites complain, in fact, that they are no longer the people set free to live in freedom in the Promised Land but have become once more a people under harsh labor, as they were in Egypt. Rehoboam receives wise advice from the elders, who may have had the benefit of Solomon’s own wisdom (cf. 1 Kings 10:8) and had little hope of or desire for further advancement from his son—the advice that effective leadership comes from below and not from above (12:7). But the new king does not like what they have to say. Thus, he chooses instead to accept the foolish advice of his younger contemporaries, who are currently in his own service (12:8). They owe their position in life to him, and they give him the advice he evidently wishes to hear. Rehoboam in consequence behaves like Pharaoh, increasing the oppression on the people (cf. Ex. 5:1–21). Such foolish government, in Kings as in Ecclesiastes, leads inevitably to disaster. All authority exercised under God, in fact, is to be exercised with humility and with love for one’s neighbor, whoever that neighbor may be (note, e.g., Matt. 23:8–12; Eph. 6:4, 9).
Contemporary Significance
Woman: “Teach me things!”
Man: “What do you want—information or wisdom?”5
Woman: “Do you believe everything the authorities tell you?”
Man: “Why not?”
Woman: “They’re authorities—that’s reason enough!”6
We live in a world where information is widely privileged over wisdom. We are bombarded with “facts” and expected somehow to accommodate all of them and to integrate them into our lives. But we are like the readers of a complicated novel who read all the sentxe plot. The information highway runs directly through our homes in the form of TV and the Internet, and we are exhilarated at the chance of catching a ride and ending up in exotic places. But there is too much traffic and it moves too fast, so we are more likely to find ourselves playing the role of dead squirrel, caught beneath its wheels, than the role of daring hitchhiker.
It is a world in which no one ever thinks to ask whether twenty-four-hour news channels are a good thing (it is thought to be obvious that they are), a world in which it is self-evident that information technology is a more important school or college subject than philosophy, a world in which “Have you heard the latest?” is a more pressing question than “Do you know the truth?” It is a world in which it is estimated that by the time a child born today reaches the age of fifty, 97 percent of everything known in the world at that time will have been learned since her birth. The truth is that we have never known so much and understood so little.
We live in a world, in fact, in which wisdom—at least insofar as it derives from authority and tradition—is routinely suspected, mocked, and despised. Long gone are the days when the venerable age of an idea was thought to be an indicator of its value. Long gone, too, are the days when trust was placed in authorities, whether ancient or modern. These are more suspicious, fractured times. We are all the distant heirs of the Enlightenment idea that truth must be rediscovered from the ground up, all previous truth claims notwithstanding.
What we have discovered, however, as we have pressed our suspicion of “authorities” further and further, is just how difficult it is to know any truth at all. Truth has thus become a personal matter, which changes with the life circumstances of the person who proclaims it. The only wisdom that counts is the wisdom that has been collected experientially along the way. Swimming in the midst of the ocean of “facts,” each individual must somehow work out how at least some of them cohere with each other and make sense. The best he or she can hope for in terms of help from the outside is that some other individual may be able to offer a few words of knowledge, and even then, it is a fairly forlorn hope.
The depths of the dilemma are clearly seen in many of our more recent movies, which offer for our inspection a variety of incompetent adults who clearly have not the first idea of what life is about. Contrasted with these are various wise and competent youths (or even children or babies) who, understanding all things, certainly have no need of listening to any adult and have a thing or two to teach most of the adults they know. As in the consumer culture generally, it is the new that counts, not the ancient; the young, not the old. The movies reflect the culture, in which parents have themselves lost confidence or interest in teaching and disciplining their children (after all, what do we know?), and even school and college teachers are uncomfortable with the idea that they have a body of wisdom to pass on to their pupils, taking refuge instead in the (frightening) idea that education is about drawing out what is already “in” the child. This atmosphere was nicely captured by a “back-to-school” section in a local newspaper,7 which carried headlines “Words from the Wise” over comments and advice to incoming students from children as young as six and seven.
It is not that children have no wisdom of their own. Of course they do—and it is indeed sometimes superior to that of adults. It is not that adults cannot accumulate wisdom as they walk the path of life, although many appear to manage to avoid doing so. Nor should we always believe what authorities tell us and do what they say. Authorities can lie and be mistaken, and they can certainly be corrupt. Yet in the end, it is impossible for the solitary, transient individual to make sense of the universe, or even for a band of transient individuals to do so.
We all need some larger story to inhabit, with an Author who knows the beginning and the end and who controls the plot. We all need wisdom from above and from outside us—and from before us—if we are to know who we are, what it is all about, and where we are going. We all need to know Truth, if we are to make even the beginnings of an attempt to sort out truth from fiction in all the claims and counterclaims of human experience—in all that passes for “wisdom” in society, whether it comes from children or adults, from authorities or those who are suspicious of authority.
We will not find this Truth by watching TV chat shows (the great symbol of the modern desire to share experiences without ever having to be committed to truth that relativizes or criticizes experience). We will not find it by listening to powerful politicians, to famous actors or performers, or to people who are both (and thus illustrate just how far what is novel has overtaken in importance what has substance). We will find it only in God’s revelation in Jesus Christ, who is the touchstone of all reality and the focus of all wisdom. It is in Jesus and in the great story of human history woven around him as its center that we will find the solid rock on which to stand and against which to measure the truth of all the truth claims that people make about the world—the authority that can be trusted. It is the house built on this ancient Truth that will still be found standing at the end of time, when the waters have washed all other more modern and attractive houses away:
Therefore everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock. But everyone who hears these words of mine and does not put them into practice is like a foolish man who built his house on sand. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell with a great crash. (Matt. 7:24–27)
It is as we stand on the Rock that we will learn to recognize and embrace wisdom, wherever it is found (e.g., whether in a poor man or in another, Eccl. 9:16), filtering out all the noise of the culture that distracts us and distorts our values (9:17). It is as we stand on the Rock that we will learn to value wise words over oily words (10:1, 12), whether they come from politicians, advertisers, or indeed preachers. It is as we stand on the Rock that we will learn those necessary skills required even to survive the autocratic and corrupt state (10:4–11).
On this last point we should remind ourselves that it is always possible for one loud fool to persuade the masses to go along with him or her, even on the most implausible and mad of crusades. One thinks of the shocking absurdity of Adolf Hitler, an unimposing man with dark hair, ranting to large crowds about the supremacy of the blond, Aryan warrior race, and of all the misery and wickedness that followed the suspension of disbelief among those who heard him. It will always be the case, however, that a fool (precisely because he or she is a fool) will eventually come to grief. A German friend remembers well the day that Hitler’s troops invaded Russia, for he saw his father stalking around his home muttering, “The fool! The fool!” So it always ends for those who think themselves wise but are not. So it always ends for those who are fools or listen to fools.
He said to them, “How foolish you are, and how slow of heart to believe all that the prophets have spoken!” (Luke 24:25)
Be very careful, then, how you live—not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil. Therefore do not be foolish, but understand what the Lord’s will is. (Eph. 5:15–17)