Saying Twenty-Three

Proverbs 24:7

Wisdom is too lofty for a fool; he does not open his mouth in the gate.

Short people don’t get onto basketball teams.

Inching itself gracefully towards the glowing horizon, and blushing profusely at all the attention, the sun repeated an act that had garnered so much praise over the centuries: it set. The mountains, content in their supporting role, laid out the red carpet; and the trees, having arranged everything beforehand with the breeze, whispered their gentle applause.

On a nearby hill, the heads of a dozen men and women could be seen peeping over the parapet of a lookout. Their faces wore entrancement like a jewel, and they spoke often to one another of truth, goodness, and beauty — subjects that just seemed to suggest themselves.

Hidden from view was another race of beings, much shorter, scuttling around the knees and heels of the sunset-watchers. They are known by various nicknames — oompa loompas, hobbits, gremlins; but the book of Proverbs calls them fools. They are a babbling, complaining species. They hate the dark when it is dark; they despise the light when it is light. When the sun rises or sets, they argue over which is worse.

Every now and then, one of the men will look down compassionately on a fool — perhaps one who has just bumped his little nose against the parapet. And with care and precision, he will describe to him the sunset in glorious detail, even offering to pick the little chap up so he can see it. But the fool, not believing a word of it, will scoff and mock and deride with such vigour and candour that the man will abandon the attempt with a shake of the head.

On one occasion, a man lost his cool and, reaching down with firm hands, lifted a squirming fool high into the air, pointing his head in the direction of the sun. But the fool still did not see. He closed his eyes, buried his face in his hands, and waggled his head about in protest. In a shrieking voice, he said:

“There isn’t a sunset, and it’s not worth seeing anyway!”

It is tempting to think of the difference between a fool and a wise man as nothing more than a matter of isolated choices — a string of better or worse decisions made in the moment. In Proverbs, it runs far deeper: it is structural, woven into the very grain of a person’s heart. Wisdom and folly are not occasional actions, but settled dispositions, shaping how a person sees — or refuses to see — the world.

In Saying Sixteen, this difference was illustrated as the ability to see in a new dimension, namely, beyond the nose. In Saying Twenty-Three, it is a difference of spiritual stature. God keeps wisdom on the top shelf, well beyond the reach of children and dwarves.

Folly, like height, is genetic and hardwired. It is inherited from Adam and courses through the veins of every human being by default.

Foolishness is bound up in the heart of a child; the rod of correction will drive it far from him. (Proverbs 22:15)

...the imagination of man’s heart is evil from his youth… (Genesis 8:21)

In this sense, we are a race of oompa loompas for whom acquiring wisdom is like dunking a full size hoop. Given this fact, one might be excused for throwing up the hands with a despairing What’s the use? If spiritual ineptness is as certain to us as perpendicular brevity to a dwarf, what hope is there of change?

The proverb just cited points to “the rod of correction” as the effective means of overcoming foolishness. In principle, this means fools must run up against the physical, painful realities of life, and thus learn wisdom ‘the hard way’. Wisdom, in truth, can only be learned ‘the hard way,’ for there is no shortcut to enlarging a man’s spiritual stature — just as there is no shortcut to adding to his physical height.

Which of you by worrying can add one cubit to his stature? (Matthew 6:27)

At the same time, there are many men who, upon learning this truth, proceed to implement the beat-him-to-a-pulp method of correcting fools, or even correcting their own children. But Proverbs illustrates how ineffective this is:

Though you grind a fool in a mortar with a pestle along with crushed grain, yet his foolishness will not depart from him. (Proverbs 27:22)

The problem with this method is it is all “rod” and no “correction.” You cannot merely stomp on a chap and expect him to know why you are doing it. The heaviness of your boot has no obvious correlation with the depth of wisdom that (no doubt) prompted its deployment.

True discipline — discipline that is effective at injecting spiritual growth hormones into the human heart — is founded in sacrificial love. The eminent example is Christ, who, before sanctifying his bride with trials and tribulations, first took her bruises upon himself.

But He was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities; the chastisement for our peace was upon Him, and by His stripes we are healed. (Isaiah 53:5)

Having walked through this discipline himself, he can apply it to others, giving not only the beating but the building up of resurrection that followed, leading to genuine spiritual stature.

Now, it is fair to say that a man who lacks the height to see over the parapet of a lookout will never be a tour guide at that lookout. This is why Solomon points out that a fool will not “open his mouth in the gate.” The gate was the meetingplace of elders:

Her husband is known in the gates, when he sits among the elders of the land. (Proverbs 31:23)

Saying Twenty-Three, therefore, could be paraphrased (in a layered, metaphorical sense) as “short people don’t get onto basketball teams.”

Scriptures for Comparison

Proverbs 17:7

Proverbs 17:28

Proverbs 26:7

Ecclesiastes 10:12-13

Proverbs 22:15

Proverbs 27:22

Proverbs 31:23

Job 29:7-9

Deuteronomy 21:19

Ruth 4:1-2