Knowable Word

Wisdom is available, but we don’t change because we love being simple.

“How long, O simple ones, will you love being simple?
How long will scoffers delight in their scoffing
And fools hate knowledge?
If you turn at my reproof,
Behold, I will pour out my spirit to you;
I will make my words known to you.” (Prov 1:22-23)

Wisdom’s accusation is not that we don’t know enough, or that we’re underprivileged, or even that we’re not gifted with wisdom. Rather, she asks directly, “How long will you love being simple?” We like immaturity, and we choose to ignore wisdom. We don’t want to grow up. We refuse to take responsibility. We prefer to stay put.

Note that in the second and third lines of Prov 1:22 she switches from talking to the “simple ones” to talking about “scoffers” and “fools.” The simple one is not yet in the same class as a scoffer or a fool, but he will get there soon if he doesn’t do something. The key point here is that wisdom’s rebuke in this passage is not for those who have rejected her outright. She’s not talking to amoral heathen. She’s talking to religious people who hear her instruction regularly, but who haven’t yet assimilated it. She’s talking to those who are young in their faith or immature in their thinking. She’s speaking to those who, for one reason or another, love their current lives and don’t really want to change.

In Prov 1:23, she’s back to addressing the simple ones with “if you turn at my reproof.” Our greatest need is to turn. We have to stop doing what we’re doing, stop thinking what we’re thinking, and stop believing what we’re believing.

For example, maybe you talk too much (Prov 10:19). You know it, and everyone else sure knows it. If someone tells a story, you have to tell one, too. If there’s an issue to discuss, you’re compelled to make sure they understand you on it. When you start talking, people stop listening. Perhaps you’ve come to terms with it, even apologizing for it. Maybe you’ve given people freedom just to interrupt you if you’re talking too much. But the problem here is not that people aren’t honest enough with you. The problem is that you love yourself and you don’t want to change.

Or maybe you’re more of the quiet type (Prov 18:1). You’d never answer a question in a classroom setting. If people ask how you’re doing, you’ll generously drop a safe “fine” or the occasionally risky “pretty good.” If they want more details, they can ask. No one really knows you, but you’re okay with that. If they don’t know you, they can’t hurt your feelings the way others did in the past. You’ve accepted the fact that you’re just an “introvert”; it’s how God made you. You’re more of a behind-the-scenes person than an up-front person. But wisdom’s rebuke lands right in the middle of your excuses: Your life’s not changing because you don’t want it to change.

Personal Application

I need to hear wisdom’s rebuke just as much as anybody else.

I’m not very handy, partly because I grew up in a family that never owned a home. Whenever something broke, we’d call the landlords. My wife, however, grew up on a 9-acre lot in rural Pennsylvania. They never saw an improvement they didn’t like.

So when we got married, Erin had to persuade me to become a homeowner. She succeeded, and my life has lacked a comfort zone ever since. You see, I’m terrified of the unknown. When we bought our first home, fear gripped my heart so completely that when I went to unpack my office, I didn’t even know what to do. I looked around at all the boxes and got so depressed and overwhelmed by the whole thing that I just lay down on the couch and did nothing. When Erin came downstairs from her own unpacking and saw me lying there, she didn’t buy my excuse that “I didn’t know what to do.” She pointed to a box, said “How ‘bout we start with this one?” and began removing its contents.

The problem was not my upbringing, nor was it my personal preferences. The problem was that I loved being simple. I had never owned or maintained a home, I didn’t want to keep up a home, and I didn’t want to learn how to keep up a home. And I didn’t make those choices based on careful study of Scripture accompanied by Spirit-driven meditation. It’s not that I conscientiously believed renting a home would honor Christ more than owning a home would. No, I simply didn’t want to change. I didn’t want the increased responsibility.

When Jesus came, he looked for those with functioning ears to hear what he had to say (Matt 13:9, 13-17; see also Rev 2:7, 11, etc.). He cries out to us, calling us to repentance and faith that we might walk with him in his kingdom. Will you come to him, or love remaining simple (Matt 11:28-30, John 5:39-40)?

This post was first published in 2012.

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As a general rule, I try not to yell at my children. But there are rare circumstances when I find myself with no other option.

One of those times occurred at the end of a summer picnic at a friend’s house. In the process of gathering our gear, we lost track of our two-and-a-half-year-old twins. Unbeknownst to us, they had overheard that we were leaving and had run around to the front of the house and across the street to our van. They were quite proud of their speedy preparation for our imminent departure.

When I finally realized where they were, I ran out front to check on their safety. They saw me coming and began to re-cross the street, until I screamed, “STOP!” just before the next car sped by. Terrified by my uncharacteristic loudness and tone, both boys started crying. It took a while to calm them down, but it was worth it to have them unharmed.

In this section of Proverbs, wisdom is pictured as a woman who shouts at us on the street. It’s easy to be offended by her rebuke, but it’s really in our best interest. Her wisdom is readily available (Prov 1:20-21, see below), but we choose to ignore it because we love being simple (Prov 1:22-23). In making this choice, we willfully reject God’s plan for change and replace it with the bitter fruit of deception (Prov 1:24-28) and desire (Prov 1:29-31). In the end, our own complacency destroys us, unless we listen (Prov 1:32-33).

Wisdom is Available

Do you feel like you can’t change? Wisdom is available!

“Wisdom cries aloud in the street,
In the markets she raises her voice;
At the head of the noisy streets she cries out;
At the entrance of the city gates she speaks.” (Prov 1:20-21)

It doesn’t get any more public than this. Wisdom cries “in the street,” “in the markets,” “at the head of the noisy streets,” and “at the entrance of the city gates.” If there is a place where people might gather, she’s there.

The point is simple: Wisdom is available. It is everywhere. We think we can’t change. We believe no one understands us. We assume we’re on our own. However, we’re surrounded by people with decent advice on important topics. We have no excuse for remaining immature.

I’m not very handy when it comes to mechanical things. I’m much happier with a book and a bar of chocolate than with a hammer and a workbench. So when my wife informed me one evening that the pilot light on our gas oven had gone out and dinner was going to be late, I panicked. Upon recovering my senses, however, I remembered that wisdom on such matters is readily available. So I whipped out YouTube, searched for videos on “gas oven pilot light,” and found the instruction I desperately needed. I’m happy to announce that nothing blew up that night, and all were warm and well-fed.

What does this principle look like on a larger scale? We know that wisdom involves much more than just learning how to ignite a pilot light. If wisdom, as we concluded before, is ultimately a continual striving to know and do what the Bible says, and wisdom is readily available to us, then we have no one to blame but ourselves if we fail to honor the Lord. It’s not my parents’ fault for raising me this way. It’s not my pastor’s fault for not taking more of an interest in me. It’s not my spouse’s fault for making me angry. It’s not the Lord’s fault for putting me in this situation.

The Lord “has granted to us all things that pertain to life and godliness” (2 Pet 1:3). He’s just waiting for us to turn to him, and he will pour out these resources on us (Prov 1:23). We have books, sermons, and role models right at our fingertips. If we can’t find wisdom, we’re probably just not looking.

This post was first published in 2012.

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