Saying Twelve

Proverbs 23:12

Apply your heart to instruction, and your ears to words of knowledge.

Don’t be the smartest man in hell.

A sharp mind and a deep soul are not equivalent; they are two qualities that vary independently. Simple men exist whose wisdom far exceeds their ability to articulate. Intelligent men exist whose silver tongues seem to be trained in the art of two-wheeling around the roads of meaningful substance. Put both of these men in a Proverbs 7 situation, however, and we will see who ends up in the chambers of hell.

Saying Twelve is addressing the seemingly infinite distance between the head and the heart. Truth be told, it is a chasm that God alone can bridge.

I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit within you; I will take the heart of stone out of your flesh and give you a heart of flesh. (Ezekiel 36:26)

The fact that God alone opens the heart does not diminish the necessity of commandments, such as this twelfth saying, which insist that we do it. Such laws stand as a prosecutor against unregenerate sinners (who cannot obey them — see Rom 8:7-8). For Christians, they are a schoolmaster leading to Christ. Remember that God’s law frequently asks sinners to do things which they are incapable of doing, both in theory and practice. Not least of these is the command:

Therefore you shall be perfect, just as your Father in heaven is perfect. (Matthew 5:48)

How are you going with that one? Are you perfect yet?

The impossibility of such standards is precisely what should drive sinners to grace; for apart from Christ, righteousness remains out of reach. It is only when men view a particular law as within the grasp of their obedience that they balk at the idea of it being unattainable. We ask questions like ‘why would God command Johnny to do something Johnny cannot do?’ In saying this, we take Johnny’s side of the argument, not God’s. And that, needless to say, is not advisable.

Even so, Paul gives a good answer to the question:

Moreover the law entered that the offense might abound. But where sin abounded, grace abounded much more. (Romans 5:20)

It is quite true, and not inconsistent at all, to say that Saying Twelve commands men to perform an action that they are incapable of doing apart from the direct intervention of God. That action is bridging the head-heart divide.

With this central fact acknowledged, we can proceed to the proverb itself.

Suppose that Johnny — whose mates (if he has them) refer to him affectionately as Professor J — has recently picked up the book of Proverbs. Two months ago, he spent some time in Aurelius’s Meditations, and before that, the Zoroastrian Avesta. He likes to analyse these texts as a scholar, taking into account the cultural context in which they were written. True — he is technically a Christian. But why should the fact that Proverbs happens to be in the Bible put a damper on his intellectual pursuit of knowledge?

With such an attitude, Proverbs becomes, to Johnny, ‘just another wisdom book’ worthy of academic investigation. Over the next fourteen weeks, he proceeds to uncover several of the most amazing textual discoveries that have ever blessed the Bible scholar community. Chiasms abound. Patterns multiply. Themes unravel. And for decades afterwards, Christian pastors who preach through the book of Proverbs find themselves thoroughly indebted to Johnny for his insights.

It is unfortunate, however, that “Professor J” himself does not seem to benefit from his studies. At age forty, he commits adultery with a woman who thought him oh-so-wise, and his wife divorces him. At fifty, his self-professed wisdom leads him into a financial venture that ends in bankruptcy. At sixty, with the altruistic desire to ‘do some good’ with his gift of wisdom, he becomes a left-wing politician. You get the drift.

Johnny, it is true, possessed a lot of wisdom — in the same way the chap in the parable possessed his talent: buried somewhere safe. Johnny’s mind was a veritable storehouse of proverbs, sayings, quips, and witticisms. But if you had visited his heart, you would have found yourself at an empty stone vault, chained shut with heavy iron links that never rust, and always seem to gleam with the luster of fresh polish. He liked to keep that part of himself safe from intruders.

But wisdom is no more ‘safe’ than Aslan.

“Then he isn't safe?” said Lucy.

“Safe?” said Mr. Beaver; “don't you hear what Mrs. Beaver tells you? Who said anything about safe? ‘Course he isn't safe. But he’s good. He’s the King, I tell you.”

Opening your heart to wisdom demands the same courage as approaching a good lion. It is the virtue that brought Esther before Ahasuerus, trusting his kindness and favour. This is because proverbs — true proverbs — are radical in their prescriptions, and ruthless in their candour. If you submit to them, you will not walk away unscathed. It will not be safe. And in a world where you need a license to use a ladder, and state permission to build a shed in your backyard, we are not accustomed to taking such risks.

As Johnny’s story illustrates, the perilous journey towards wisdom is not fully traversed if wise truths dwell safely in the basement of your mind. One must submit to a full-body baptism in wisdom, surrendering to complete immersion, and trusting God that there is a resurrection on the other side.

Scriptures for Comparison

Proverbs 2:1-6

Proverbs 4:7

Proverbs 8:33-35

James 1:22-25

Psalm 119:34

Ecclesiastes 7:12

Matthew 7:24-25

Colossians 3:16

2 Timothy 3:14-15