Helping ordinary people learn to study the Bible
My co-blogger Ryan has provided a very helpful explanation for why the Bible is not boring. Pastor Mitch Chase also recently wrote about 4 reasons you might think the Bible is boring. His reasons are:
Chase offers some excellent guidance for ways to pull out of each of these situations and find more delight in God’s word.
A few weeks ago, I republished, with some editing, a 2016 post about why the conventional Bible study advice that “proverbs aren’t promises” is misleading. Then Pastor Paul Carter interacted with my piece on The Gospel Coalition Canada site, concluding that “proverbs aren’t promises” is true after all.
I would encourage you to check out Carter’s article, as he defends the conventional wisdom and illuminates a few places where my argument is not as clear as it ought to be. Below, I will seek to rectify that. But first let me point out what I appreciate about Carter’s piece, along with how important our definitions are.
First, while Carter makes use of scholarship to assist his arguments, he primarily looks to the Scripture itself for guidance. For this I am grateful. He takes pains to highlight the wisdom literature’s own view of the world, especially life in a fallen world.
Second, while holding to the maxim that proverbs aren’t promises, Carter makes sure to also state that “Proverbs are true and can be trusted entirely.” And that “They are truths you can build your life upon.” I affirm these conclusions wholeheartedly. I believe that these truths are in tension with the claim that “proverbs aren’t promises” on account of definitions, but more on that below. I’m just grateful up front that Carter recognizes the need to be explicit about the trustworthiness of the Proverbs.
Third, Carter’s argument is almost entirely based on the nature of life in a fallen world. And I would agree with him on his analysis of the wisdom literature’s description of our fallen existence: “Sometimes the righteous get what the wicked deserve and the wicked get what the righteous deserve. I’m not sure how anyone living on planet earth could deny that.” Agreed. In no way am I denying that reality.
Finally, Carter affirms the long-term view taken by the Proverbs: “Proverbs are true and can be trusted, but because the world is fallen, a person may have to wait until the Final Judgment and the resurrection for the full enjoyment of that truth and the full possession of the rewards associated therewith.” I fully agree with the fact that the truth of proverbs is often not fulfilled in the present age. Now strikingly, Carter believes that “promise” is the wrong label for this “full enjoyment of that truth and the full possession of the rewards associated therewith” that comes in the Final Judgment.
It is on that point of labels and definitions that my disagreement chiefly lies. So let me turn to that.
If by “promise,” we mean a deistic, impersonal mechanism, by which certain inputs infallibly result in guaranteed outputs, then I would agree that proverbs aren’t promises. And all over Carter’s article, it is clear that this is what he means by “promise.”
So for Carter, a “promise” is:
It’s as though God embedded into the source code of the universe a touch screen kiosk for ordering fast food. Just input your diligent labor, and pre-programmed robotic servers will bring riches and wealth right to your table.
Again, if that is what is meant by “promise,” then I agree that proverbs aren’t promises.
However, the biggest problem here is that this is not what a promise is in the Bible. And that is the basis for my entire argument that “proverbs aren’t promises” is misleading.
In the Bible, a promise is:
The promises of the book of Proverbs fit squarely within these characteristics. The assurances and predicted rewards or curses (I’m not sure what else to call them besides “promises”) are offered to the young nobility of Israel in the kingdom period [contextual], on the basis of their fear of the Lord (Prov 1:7, 9:10) and their standing in his steadfast love and faithfulness (Prov 3:3) [covenantal], and on condition of walking faithfully on a straight path away from self-reliance and toward Yahweh their God (see Proverbs 1-9, which is the foundation for the practicals in the rest of the book, and especially Prov 3:5-6) [conditional].
No, the assurances of Proverbs are not mathematical functions within a universal, deistic machine. Yes, the assurances of Proverbs function just like the rest of the Bible’s promises. We can come up with exceptions to the assurances of Deuteronomy 28 on account of the world’s fallenness. But nobody thereby concludes that “covenant blessings and curses aren’t promises.” So why do we make that claim about the Proverbs? Yes, they are promises. We just need to define “promise” the way the Bible does.
I’m grateful to Carter for his article, which illuminated the need for me to clarify this presupposition of my argument. My concern with the maxim “proverbs aren’t promises” lies not with what it says about proverbs but with what it says about promises.
The conventional wisdom that “proverbs aren’t promises” always appears to arise from one of two observations:
Both of those concerns are real pastoral problems. Yet when we address them with a sweeping hermeneutical solution (that proverbs aren’t promises), the collateral damage is even greater than the presenting problem.
First, if it is true that proverbs aren’t promises, then it must follow that none of the following particular proverbs are promises:
Many more examples could be given. And if none of those are promises (the way the Bible defines “promise”), where does that leave us? Under the guidance offered by the conventional principle, as Bruce Waltke recognized decades ago, a psychologically well person could scarcely trust God.
Second, if it is true that proverbs aren’t promises, how can we even say we expect their fulfillment in the Final Judgment or the new heavens and new earth? Isn’t it the case that many of the Bible’s promises are not fully true—i.e. we will experience apparent exceptions to them—until the age to come? “The wolf shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the young goat … They shall not hurt or destroy in all my holy mountain” (Isaiah 11:6-9). Carter claims that “promise” is the wrong label for truths that “will be resisted and delayed until the Final Judgment.” So what, then, should we call those assurances in other parts of the Bible that will be resisted and delayed until That Day?
Third, if the assurances of Proverbs can be refuted by appealing to self-evident exceptions to them in a fallen world, what is to prevent us from approaching any of the Bible’s promises the same way? For example, God promised to David that his son would sit on his throne forever (2 Sam 7:13). It is self-evident that Solomon did not reign forever, providing an exception to the larger promise of David’s dynasty. Does that mean that 2 Sam 7:13 is not a promise, just like “proverbs aren’t promises”? (Psalm 89 wrestles with a very similar question.) Of course not; we now know God was talking most fully about the Messiah. But this takes us back to the previous point: If the fulfillment of the promise delays until a future age, does that make it no longer a promise?
Fourth, if the assurances of Proverbs can be refuted by appealing to exceptions that violate our expectations of how the world ought to work (something to which Carter appeals numerous times in his article), what is to prevent us from approaching any of the Bible’s promises the same way? For example, “If you ask me anything in my name, I will do it” (John 14:14). But my experience has shown numerous times when Jesus did not do what I asked in his name; this violates my expectation about how Jesus said the world ought to work. Does that mean this can’t be a promise, just like “proverbs aren’t promises”? Of course not; there must something contextual, covenantal, and/or conditional that I must grasp from John’s gospel to help me overcome the pastoral problem of this verse. After all, promises are not universal, deistic mechanisms for attaining what I want.
Fifth, when the guidance that “proverbs aren’t promises” sinks in, people lose interest in the book of Proverbs. If all I find here are “general principles” and “probabilities” which may or may not be true in my life — and there’s no way of predicting whether they will be true in my life or not — then why would I pay any attention to this book at all? The book of Proverbs used to be core to Christian discipleship, as evidenced in part by its inclusion with the Psalms in the Gideons’ “New Testaments.” These days, I find it rare to come across Christians who have any real familiarity with the book of Proverbs at all. There’s just not much motivation to soak in this book when you’ve been told you can’t bank on what you find there. And in our generation, we sure would benefit from soaking in this book to guide us through the mess we’re facing.
To be fair, Carter explicitly denies the idea that the truths of Proverbs can’t be trusted. But he is not clear about how “proverbs aren’t promises” and “they are truths you can build your life upon” can both be true, when denying the latter conclusion follows directly downstream from affirming the former.
My point is simply that we create far more serious pastoral problems when we apply a sweeping hermeneutical solution to the presenting set of pastoral problems. This, I believe, is the very concern of which Dr. Waltke tries to warn us in his commentary.
Carter is not the first critic to claim that I have misread Bruce Waltke’s commentary, which I quoted in my original article. But the criticism goes like this:
This is to miss the point of my citation of Dr. Waltke. I do not claim that Dr. Waltke supports a deistic, mechanistic view of the promises of Proverbs. Nor do I argue myself in favor of a deistic, mechanistic view of the promises of Proverbs.
All that Dr. Waltke is saying, to which I am appealing, is that to solve the pastoral problems of Proverbs with a sweeping hermeneutical maxim that “proverbs aren’t promises but probabilities” is “stating the matter badly.” By the way we have chosen to frame the hermeneutical principle, we have created a host of “theological, practical, and psychological problems” that are even worse than the original matter we set out to address.
So again, I deny that proverbs are universal, deistic, mechanisms for attaining reward in this present life. But I strenuously urge us all not to frame our correction with the language of “proverbs aren’t promises.” By doing that, we create even worse problems for the people we’re trying to help.
I am not arguing, as Pastor Carter claims at the start of his article, against the overstatement of a valid hermeneutical principle. I am arguing against even the bare statement of such a faulty principle, even though the principle is well-intended to address a real problem.
To continue repeating the oft-repeated maxim that “proverbs aren’t promises” is to throw into question all of the Bible’s promises, because the same arguments against proverbs being promises can be directly applied to promises from other genres of the Bible. That is why the statement “proverbs aren’t promises” is misleading.
But that which truly concerns Pastor Carter, along with the myriad other proponents of the conventional guidance, is something with which I fully agree. Proverbs are not mechanistic guarantees for life in this fallen world. Can we not simply frame the matter that way, and do away with the label of “not promises”?
Micahel J. Kruger explains 7 traits that make the Gospel of John unique:
To be clear, all four of our gospels are special, inspired, and unique in their own ways. But, John offers a unique contribution to our vision of the ministry of Jesus. And he proves that Jesus’ person is so deep, so multi-faceted, so profound, that there are always more things to say about him.
As we continue our overview of the book of Proverbs, we ought to take note of Solomon’s intentions for this book, along with his failure to heed his own advice.
Solomon has an agenda for each of the types of people he addresses.
To the simple, he offers a gift: prudence, knowledge and discretion (Prov 1:4). You can’t stay at the crossroads forever. Not to make a decision is to make the wrong decision. Turn to the Lord (trust in his Messiah, Jesus); start moving toward him and becoming like him. Then you’ll live up to your created potential, and you’ll obtain your redeemed glory.
To the foolish, he offers a challenge: fear the Lord and begin to have knowledge (Prov 1:7). Be a fool no longer. Give up what you cannot keep (your own self-satisfied condition and individualistic righteousness) to gain what you cannot lose (entrance into the eternal kingdom, fullness of life, most delightful joy). It will cost you everything and be the most difficult thing you ever do, but it’s the only way to true freedom and lasting insight. Jesus died a fool’s death so fools could know the wise life by knowing him.
To the wise, he offers both encouragement and caution: you’re running on the right path, but don’t slow down (Prov 1:5)! You’re never finished. You haven’t arrived yet. Wisdom is not something you are; it is something you are doing. We can never be wise; we can only become wise. It’s a journey, not a destination. The wise person grows closer and closer to the Lord Jesus until the last day.
Solomon himself needed to hear this last point over and over again, but he forgot.
Have you ever wondered how the wisest person who ever lived could end up such a wretched fool? Solomon married 1000 women and turned away from the Lord to worship their gods (1 Kings 11:3-4). If he was so wise, how could he do such a foolish thing? After the Lord gave him such wisdom, how is it possible that he could fail in the end?
These questions troubled me for years until I finally heard a good answer in a lecture by Bruce Waltke. Solomon himself forgot this most crucial principle of wisdom: It is a path, not a destination. “Cease to hear instruction, my son, and you will stray from the words of knowledge” (Proverbs 19:27).[1] You can’t ever let off the gas or set the cruise control. You must actively pursue wisdom every moment of every day. Don’t grow weary or lose heart.
But even more importantly, Solomon was not the primary one God had in mind when he made those promises of Sonship and Kingdom in 2 Samuel 7:12-16. Jesus was. Remember the opening line to Mark’s Gospel? “The beginning of the gospel of Jesus Christ, the Son of God” (Mark 1:1). Remember last year’s Christmas cantata? “The kingdom of the world has become the kingdom of our Lord and of his Christ, and he shall reign forever and ever” (Revelation 11:15, quoted in Handel’s Messiah).
This is Good News for us, because if for one moment our standing before God depended on our own wisdom, we would be dead. We wouldn’t last. But if instead, all we must do is trust in Jesus, and his wisdom and righteousness replace our failure and make us right before God, then we have hope! You see, what really makes someone wise is that he knows he’s got further to go in order to be wise. When measured against the wisdom of Jesus, he will always lack and therefore need more. So he turns to Jesus, rests on him, and hopes in him.
We’ve bet the house on this one horse, and if Jesus loses the race, we lose everything.
Such reckless abandon is mandatory for any who want to be wise. Is there any hint of such abandon on your pursuit of wisdom?
[1]See also Waltke, The Book of Proverbs Chapters 1-15, p.36. (Affiliate link)
This post was first published in 2012.
In his last post, my co-blogger Ryan mentioned meditation as a wonderful way to grow in our understanding of, love for, and obedience to God. Tim Challies would agree, and in his recent article, “Maybe We Make Meditation Too Difficult,” Challies encourages us all to find some way to work this practice into our spiritual disciplines.
What is meditation? Meditation is pondering the words of the Bible with the goal of better understanding and sharper application. Ideally, meditation leads us to understand the words we have read and to know how God may call us to work them out in our lives. It is one of the ways that we output wisdom after inputting knowledge.
Challies explains the natural tendency to turn meditation into something quite abstract, solitary, and scripted. He offers suggestions on ways we can each adapt the discipline of meditation to our own preferences and personalities.
We looked at the broad audience of Proverbs last week, but today let’s examine more specifically what types of people Solomon expects to be present in the community.
Various authors in Scripture view people through different frameworks. The author of Hebrews sees people as either immature or mature. From one angle, the apostle Paul divides people into Jew or Gentile; from another he considers them to be justified or condemned. Jesus often distinguishes people as having faith or not, being for him or against him, sheep or goats or wolves.
These differing frameworks are not mutually exclusive; they merely represent different perspectives or intentions on the part of the particular author.
In Proverbs, Solomon organizes people into three main categories: the wise, the foolish, and the simple. These categories are not dependent on age, class, race, gender, or socio-economic status. Rather, they are determined by one’s direction in reference to the Lord.
1. Those who are moving toward the Lord are called wise. These are not perfect or intelligent people, but rather people who will gain understanding and change their lives based on what they hear in Scripture (Prov 1:5).
2. Those who are moving away from the Lord are called foolish. These are not ignorant or uneducated people, but rather people who don’t want to change anymore. They think they’re doing just fine on their own and don’t need any more help, especially not from the Lord (Prov 1:7).
3. Those who are not moving at all with respect to the Lord, on account of age, inexperience, or incapacity of some sort are called simple. These are not unreligious or immoral people (at least not yet), but rather children or child-like people who are only starting out on the path of life and thus are about to decide whether to move toward the Lord or away from him (Prov 1:4).
The crossroads are before you; which fork will you take? We must understand, however, that we cannot remain simple forever. It’s okay for a baby to smear spaghetti in her hair, but by the time she turns 30, more will generally be expected of her. Or, more elegantly, “one does not stay still: a man who is emptyheaded will end up wrongheaded.”[1]
[1]Kidner, Proverbs: An Introduction & Commentary (Downers Grove, IL: InterVarsity Press, 1964), p.13. (Affiliate link)
This post was first published in 2012.
This helpful piece Lara d’Entremont will help you connect the dots in your Bible reading. You know, when you’re reading all the different stories, poems, and prophecies, and you’re not sure how such a hodgepodge of texts fits together. The thread that ties it all up is the gospel.
She writes:
Maybe you read the Bible like this: The Old Testament is law and wrath, but when Jesus finally appeared in the New Testament, everything became about grace and good news. Then the Bible ends with some rules and promises and a terrifying and cryptic picture of the end times and eternity.
The best we can do is say that we’re not really sure what this means. Perhaps God was angrier back then; Israel is special; you’re David and your problem is Goliath; Jesus saves; follow these rules; and you’re unsure how it will all go down, but you’ll be walking on gold pavement. Sound accurate? Can you relate?
While there is significant agreement about Solomon’s authorship of Proverbs 1-9, the question of his audience is far more difficult to answer. A popular opinion is that Solomon was writing to his son, which makes sense in light of the frequent repetition of “my son” in these early chapters. However, there is reason to believe “my son” refers to more than Solomon’s genetic offspring.
Commentator Bruce Waltke understands that Proverbs “is addressed to gullible youths (Prov 1:4) and wise children (Prov 1:5, 8) to enable them to attain wisdom and be safeguarded against the world-and-life views of the impious and unethical in any age.”[1] My former Hebrew professor Frederic Clarke Putnam takes it a step further when he argues that the primary audience was likely “young men from relatively wealthy backgrounds.”[2] The wealth possessed by the desirable wife (Proverbs 31:13-16, 20-24), and the prevalence of proverbs advising one in his relationship with the king (for example Proverbs 16:12-15, 25:1-7) demonstrate that Solomon has an audience in mind more specific than all of Israel’s children yet more broad than one or more of Solomon’s own sons.
I propose that Proverbs as a whole is not intended for young children primarily, but rather for young people among Israel’s nobility who are transitioning to adulthood and preparing to become leaders in society. They must be of marriageable age, if they are being given significant advice on choosing a partner (e.g. Proverbs 18:22). They are expected to use their wealth and influence for the causes of goodness and justice in the land (for example Proverbs 16:23, 18:5, 22:16, 29:3, 29:26). They are growing up and preparing to leave their parents’ homes and enter the world of more independent responsibility.[3]
In our generation, Proverbs has significant application to anyone who currently has or hopes to obtain a leadership role in society. Are you a parent? Would you like to lead others to Christ? Do you hope to see the world become a better place? Do you have a bank account that God wants you to steward for the building of his kingdom? Do you interact with other people at any time? If you answer yes to any of these questions, then you have a significant responsibility from the Lord: do it wisely. And Proverbs can help.
[1]Waltke, The Book of Proverbs Chapters 1-15, NICOT (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 2004), p.37. (Affiliate link)
[2]The Complete Biblical Library: The Old Testament Study Bible: Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, Song of Songs (Springfield, MO: World Library Press, 1998), p.450.
[3]See Proverbs 6:20-23, where the parents expect the commands themselves to take over the teaching role that the father and mother have held to this point in the young person’s life.
This post was first published in 2012.
When the apostles wrote the New Testament books, they chose to use not the older, complex dialect of Classical (Attic) Greek but the plain language of the common people (Koine). It was imperative that the gospel of the kingdom be preached to unholy Gentiles and unjustified sinners. But they didn’t use sentences that came across as “It was imperative that the gospel of the kingdom be preached to unholy Gentiles and unjustified sinners.” No, they wrote in sentences that would have sounded more like: “We must tell those who are far from God the good news about what Jesus has done to make us members of his new community.”
Sure, they made up words from time to time (such as Paul’s “hyper-conquerors” in Rom 8:37). But what they manifestly did not do was speak in a special code or theologically technical jargon, despite how the generations since their time has made use of their language.
For this reason, it is fully appropriate for later generations to revise the terminology of earlier generations. Not to sneakily alter the substance of what’s being said, but to make that substance more clear to a new generation of men and women who need to hear it. So a few centuries ago, Christians commonly spoke about things like charity, affections, and conversation. Since those same words have far different usage now than they had back then, our generation now uses the updated but corresponding terms love, attitude or will, and behavior.
The use of contemporary language is not the same thing as “dumbing down” the Scriptures. Nor is it a capitulation to anti-intellectualism. It is primarily an attempt to be clear and persuasive. As sociologist Rodney Stark wrote in his introduction to Discovering God, “I have tried to write everything in plain English. I do not concede that this in any way compromises sophistication. What it does do is prevent me from hiding incomprehension behind a screen of academic jargon.”
Along these lines, I heard Australian preacher Phillip Jensen about 8 years ago, begging pastors and Bible translators to stop using the word “faith,” on the ground that the word no longer means what it used to mean. To the average speaker of English today, “faith” comes with presumptions of blindness, jumping to conclusions, and irresponsible religious assertions. Jensen proposed we begin using the word “trust” instead, which means something much closer to what the Bible is getting at.
And ever since, I have largely taken Jensen up on this counsel. I’ve done what I could to make best use of the word “trust”—in place of “faith”—in ordinary conversation with ordinary people. I confess that “justification by trust” doesn’t have the same ring to it as “justification by faith,” but perhaps “justification” is another one of those big Bible words that could be made plainer.
Earlier this month, Greg Koukl made the same point I heard Phillip Jensen make 8 years ago. In his article “It’s Time to Forget ‘Faith,'” Koukl argues that:
It’s virtually impossible nowadays to use the word without people subconsciously adding “blind” or “leap of” as modifiers. Indeed, some find it impossible to understand faith in any other way since, in their minds, irrationality is central to any definition of religious faith. For example:
- “Faith is the purposeful suspension of critical thinking.”
- “Faith is convincing yourself to believe something with absolutely no evidence.”
- “Faith is complete confidence in someone or something despite the absence of proof.”
- “If there were evidence for faith, why would you need to call it faith? We use the word ‘faith’ when there isn’t any evidence.”
- “This is why religions are called ‘faiths,’ because you believe something in the absence of evidence.”
- “If you feel you have to prove yourself, you don’t have faith.”
- “Asking for proof is a sin because it shows we don’t have faith.”
These are the understandings of faith advanced by such notables as Bill Maher, Richard Dawkins, Neil deGrasse Tyson, and a host of others. If you persist in using “faith” to describe your own spiritual convictions, that’s the confusion you’re up against.
That’s what they mean when they talk about religious faith. Is this what you mean when you use that word? I hope not, since that isn’t what the biblical authors meant.
Koukl’s terrific article is worth your consideration. How can we use plain language that makes sense to people today to proclaim the same message the apostles handed down to us?
The proverbs of Solomon, son of David, king of Israel (Prov 1:1).
Who better to comment on the details of earthly existence than Solomon, the son of David, the king of Israel? As the man Solomon, he had exceptional God-given insight and understanding. As the son of David, he had the promise of a kingdom for God, a special relationship with God, and steadfast love from God. As the king of Israel, he had both power and unparalleled wealth. These three resources – God’s wisdom, God’s promise, and great wealth – made Solomon uniquely qualified to compose proverbs.
Solomon asked God for “an understanding mind to govern” God’s people so he could “discern between good and evil” (1 Kings 3:9), and the Lord promised to honor Solomon’s request (1 Kings 3:12). On account of his wise judgment, all Israel “stood in awe of the king, because they perceived that the wisdom of God was in him to do justice” (1 Kings 3:28).
Solomon’s God-given wisdom surpassed that of all the sages of the East and of Egypt (1 Kings 4:29-31). This means he was smarter than Confucius and cleverer than the Buddha. He spoke 3,000 proverbs (about 900 of which are in the book of Proverbs), and his songs were 1,005 (1 Kings 4:32). He spoke of many details of life, such as trees, birds, reptiles, and fish (1 Kings 4:33). International students from every corner of the globe competed for a seat in his classroom (1 Kings 4:34). Solomon was both more prolific and more elegant than any other scholar of his day because he had direct access to the mind of the Lord of heaven and earth.
The Lord himself promised to build up and sustain Solomon in his wisdom. First, he promised him a kingdom. Speaking to Solomon’s father David, God said, “When your days are fulfilled and you lie down with your fathers, I will raise up your offspring after you, who shall come from your body, and I will establish his kingdom” (2 Samuel 7:12). Second, he promised to have a special relationship with Solomon: “I will be to him a father, and he shall be to me a son. When he commits iniquity, I will discipline him” (2 Samuel 7:14). Third, he promised to love him to the end: “My steadfast love will not depart from him” (2 Samuel 7:15).
Notice how these first two resources (God’s wisdom and God’s promise) are connected. Solomon could have all the wisdom in the world, but without the promise of God to sustain him, it would all be for naught. Imagine studying for a test. You can learn every fact and formula. You could even memorize a transcript of every word your teacher spoke in class. These actions might impart wisdom to you. But if you get no sleep the night before the exam, you will have no power or ability to recall and apply everything you learned. So God’s wisdom gave Solomon the raw insight he needed, and God’s promise gave Solomon the beautiful power of follow-through.
King Solomon had an annual income of 666 talents of gold (1 Kings 10:14). (This amount only takes into account his base salary; adding in tax revenue and investment income would push the figure even higher. See 1 Kings 10:15.) Translated into modern American currency, Solomon’s annual income was in excess of $1.5 billion.[1] To put this figure into perspective, note that Portuguese soccer star Cristiano Ronaldo (the world’s highest paid athlete) made only $260 million in 2024. In fact, the top 10 highest paid athletes combined still didn’t make as much in a year as King Solomon. It would be difficult to find anyone in our generation comparable to Solomon in his wealth.
The point of this little economics lesson: What could you do with all that capital? If Solomon lacked for anything, he could acquire it. If he wanted to try something out, it was his. He had access to the best technology, education, public safety, athletics, arts & entertainment, food, hobbies, and service that the world could offer him. Whatever his eyes desired, he did not keep from them.[2] Solomon explored every aspect of the created world with his wisdom, and he carefully examined it for every ounce of value. He now provides his experience—both positive and negative—of every delightful thing in a collection of wise sayings.
In conclusion, Solomon was abundantly qualified to take on the role of the sage of Israel and of the world. He had every possible resource at his disposal, and God gave him both the insight and the power to evaluate it wisely. His credentials are sufficient to the task of imparting wisdom.
[1]Some readers won’t be able to hear anything else I write until they know how I arrived at this figure. This footnote is just for you. The New Bible Dictionary (Downers Grove, IL: IVP, 1962), p.1234 states that 1 ancient talent equals approximately 30 modern kilograms. Therefore, 666 talents = 19,980 kg. On August 8, 2024, 24-karat gold was worth USD $77,451/kilo. Therefore, 19,980 kg of 24-karat gold = $1.55 billion. (Affiliate link)
[2]Ecclesiastes 2:10. Even if, as some claim, Solomon were not “the Preacher” of Ecclesiastes, it would appear that the Preacher at least aims to connect his spiritual authority with Solomon’s reputation (see Ecclesiastes 1:1).
