Fool | Knowable Word

Take People to the True Savior

November 18, 2013 By Peter Krol

The first of three kinds of fool in Prov 6:1-19 is the Savior. Foolish saviors insert themselves between people’s choices and the consequences of those choices.

The wise know that the need for rescue is urgent, but there’s only one who can carry it out. There’s a savior, and I’m not he. Needy people most need to fear the Lord. They need to know Jesus and trust in the saving power of his death in their place and his resurrection to glory. If the Lord brings adverse consequences to draw people closer to him (Prov 3:11-12), then I’m keeping them away from God when I buffer them from those consequences.

Proverbs 6:1-5 isn’t for only those who cosign loans.

You might be the “savior” if you:

Let other students copy your homework.
Love when people talk about how much you’ve helped them.
Believe answering a phone call or text message is more important than anything, because this person needs you right now!
Have friends who keep coming to you for accountability, but nothing ever changes.
Are bitter because you’re always helping others but they’re never helping you.
Are proud because you’re the first one people turn to when they need help.
Are overwhelmed by how many people need your help.
Participate in service projects to feel better about yourself.
Claim to be a Christian, but you’re dating a non-Christian, and you think your partner might not go to church if not for your relationship.

None of these things necessarily makes you the foolish “savior.” But if there’s a pattern, you may be in danger. Ask others if they think you rescue people too much.

Hamed Saber (2006), Creative Commons

Jesus came for the sick, not for the healthy. If we take Jesus’ place as savior, we merely prolong the illness. People will never see their need and turn to him. But if we speak as Jesus’ ambassadors, letting him do his work in people’s lives, we get a front-row seat to his display of mercy. In helping to meet any need, our goal should always be to point people to Jesus and not to ourselves. Sometimes imaging Jesus means rescuing a child from a burning building. Other times it means allowing the child to touch the hot stove. In either case, we must take the burned one to Jesus, the only true savior.

The main problem is that people often don’t want grace; they want a bailout. They don’t want their feet held to the fire; they want their hands held. They want safety, not responsibility. They want an easy life, not a free gift. They want stability, not sacrifice. They want to subsidize their lifestyle, not change it. They want a nanny, not a neurosurgeon. So they ask for our help, while rejecting what would actually help.

So, in Jesus’ name, you can:

Lavish mercy without dulling the pain of their choices.
Participate in service projects to help others and not to assuage your own nagging guilt.
Meet financial needs by donating instead of co-signing.
Introduce your non-Christian partner to others who will speak of Jesus; then get yourself out of the way.
Offer tutoring instead of sharing your homework.
Let the call go to voicemail and return it at another time.

And remember that Jesus died for “saviors.” If you keep getting in the way of his saving work in others’ lives, he’s not ready to give up on you. If you love him, he promises to conform you to his image, and he won’t ever let you succeed at replacing him.

Question: Where do you see the “Savior” in your heart, and what would it look like to represent the true Savior instead?

The Savior Saves Because He Wants to Help

November 11, 2013 By Peter Krol

Last week I examined the Savior, the first of three kinds of fool in Proverbs 6:1-19.

At first glance there appears to be little connection between our world and this ancient practice of co-signing someone’s debt. At least that’s what I thought, until the day I led a Bible study on this passage and a girl broke down in tears because her parents had charged thousands of dollars to credit cards in her name. She had always thought it was good for her to rescue her parents by using her own unsullied credit to give them more margin. If she hadn’t, they might not have been able to make a mortgage payment. They might lose a car or their furniture. They might not be able to afford college tuition for her siblings.

Becoming surety, or co-signing loans, is actually so common today that we struggle to believe it’s problematic. Parents co-sign education loans for their children. Young adults share credit cards with their parents. Credit card companies (or other financial service providers) require entrepreneurs to sign a “personal guarantee” on a corporate line of credit. In the event that the business should go bankrupt, the credit card company can require the executive to repay the company’s debt from his personal assets.

Now one could make a case that Solomon never states explicitly that it’s wrong to co-sign a loan. He says only that you should deny yourself sleep until you can get out of the deal. One could also propose that it’s okay to co-sign for a family member since the borrower Solomon has in mind is a “stranger” (Prov 6:1). But I don’t suggest banking your opinion on that single word. It’s parallel to “neighbor,” which has quite a broad range of meaning. (See Prov 3:28.)

However, instead of debating the wisdom or folly of co-signing loans in certain situations, I would prefer to ask a more foundational question. Why does Solomon make this into such a big issue? Out of all the possible money-issues he could focus on, why warn against co-signing loans? Why not prohibit false weights and measures in the marketplace? Why not expose the evil of materialism? Why not denounce theft, bribery, extortion, larceny, or tax evasion?

The answer to these questions lies in yet another question: Why would a person even consider co-signing a loan? Why do people do it, when they know the risk is so great? Those who co-sign loans lack sense (Prov 17:18) and will surely suffer the loss of their own property (Prov 11:15, 22:26-27), so what could motivate someone to do it?

It’s simple: If a person I care about has a need, then I want to help.

Marc Falardeau (2011), Creative Commons

Perhaps the person in need has no one else to turn to. Maybe this person has exhausted every option. Perhaps bad luck and bad timing have collided in this person’s life, and I’m in a position to make it better. If I can help my loved one regain equilibrium, then I’ll have done my part. I can make the world a better place, and at least one person will thank me for it.

Note Solomon’s assumptions. Of course it’s important that we love others more than ourselves (Prov 3:27-35). Yes, we must image the Lord by helping those in need. But there are times when the best help we can offer is not to help. In other words, sometimes it’s unloving to rescue people from the consequences of their choices. And co-signing a loan is one of those times.

Wise people know that the need for rescue is urgent, but there’s only one who can accomplish it. There’s a savior, and I’m not he.

Question: How do you struggle with the temptation to rescue needy people?

The Savior, the Sluggard, and the Sower of Discord

October 28, 2013 By Peter Krol

In recent years, I’ve learned that much of parenting involves helping the children learn not to do dumb stuff that hurts themselves and others. One child destroys every tower and confiscates every treasure, then wonders why no other children want to play together. Another child leaps from couch to coffee table and back again, wondering how far the gap can widen before something bad happens. Yet another finds a bag of sweets, devours the entirety in secret, and moans over the ensuing tummy ache.

One glorious incident involved our basement’s air hockey table. One child, who was typically more curious than a PhD candidate, wraps the table’s electrical cord around the rear axle of a big wheel. This child then mounts the vehicle, hits the gas, and begins taking measurements. I’m not sure which hypothesis was being tested, but the experiment resulted in our household inventory becoming minus one air hockey table. And that child went on basement probation for a few weeks.

I scratch my head at these kids until I realize I’m no different. I do dumb things and act surprised when they don’t turn out well. I’ve already written of the time I photocopied my hindquarters at summer camp. With a broken machine, a gash on my thigh, and a humiliating confession behind me, a camp legend was born. Even today, I stay up too late at night and wonder why I’m too tired to carry out important tasks the next day. I belittle my wife in public and get upset when she’s not affectionate with me in private.

Solomon wrote Proverbs 6 to help fools like us: those in danger of harming themselves and ruining the people they love.

Jon Gales (2007), Creative Commons

Now most people read Proverbs for its practical advice. They crave cuts of beefy counsel to sink their teeth into. They want help with their finances or career path or relationships, but by the end of Proverbs 5, these spiritual carnivores feel like the steakhouse is always under construction and never open for business. So in Proverbs 6, Solomon finally serves up dense shanks for thoughtful chewing.

Proverbs 6:1-19 digresses from the big-picture framework of wisdom to portray three specific kinds of fool. The “Savior” tries to rescue needy people himself rather than pointing them to Jesus (Prov 6:1-5). The “Sluggard” makes a series of lazy choices that take him farther and farther from the Lord (Prov 6:6-11). The “Sower of Discord” breaks up the body of Christ, risking God’s condemnation, which could be atoned for by the broken body of Christ (Prov 6:12-19).

This section is unique in Prov 1-9 in that it doesn’t contain a command to listen. Did Solomon omit the command because his audience should have internalized it by now? He’s given enough theory; now he gets painfully specific. And the assumed question hangs in the background: Will you listen to instruction, even if it hurts to do so?

Question: Which of the three fools can you relate with?

The Illusion of Freedom

October 21, 2013 By Peter Krol

The first section of Proverbs 5 (Prov 5:1-6) highlighted the deceptiveness of appearances. Not all is as it seems, and sexual immorality covers itself under the illusion of freedom. In this closing section, we see that deviation from God’s standards—what the culture calls “sexual freedom”—is not really free.

For a man’s ways are before the eyes of the Lord,
And he ponders all his paths.
The iniquities of the wicked ensnare him,
And he is held fast in the cords of his sin.
He dies for lack of discipline,
And because of his great folly he is led astray (Prov 5:21-23, ESV).

Jesus Solana (2012), Creative Commons

Pursuing immorality is like snapping the handcuffs, donning the straitjacket, locking the cage, or triggering the land mine. You thought to hunt a foxy partner, but the real hunters will “cry ‘havoc!’ and let slip the dogs of war.”[1] You are the prey, fit only to become a fur scarf or set of mounted antlers.

Notice first that God sees everything (Prov 5:21). Nothing we do is really in secret, though we reason with ourselves that it is so. To be free from the prying eyes of men is still to be under the fiery, knowing gaze of the Almighty. The First Catechism, a children’s version of Christian theology, summarizes:

Can you see God?
No. I cannot see God, but he always sees me.
Does God know all things?
Yes. Nothing can be hidden from God.[2]

Do these lines inspire you with hope or terrify you with despair, when you consider your sexual life of the past week or month?

Notice second that sin is ensnaring (Prov 5:22). We think that a little sin will produce a little happiness; otherwise, we wouldn’t do it! We must realize instead that every time we sin, we take up the yoke and subjugate ourselves to a harsh master. We choose slavery, not freedom. We more closely resemble unwelcome critters, to be caught and disposed of, than carefree gazelles, frolicking through glade and meadow.

Notice finally that, for the wicked, freedom is elusive (Prov 5:23). The sinner would rather die than become disciplined. The immoral person is full of “great folly” that leads him astray. He missed his turn and will never reach his destination. Life and freedom elude him; they’re always just out of reach.

Those final words (“led astray”) are significant because, in the Hebrew text, they represent the same vocabulary as was used in Prov 5:19 and Prov 5:20. Solomon commanded his reader to be “intoxicated” by the love of his spouse, and not by the forbidden woman. “Intoxicated” could also have been translated as “swerving astray” or “reeling” to show the repetition. The translators of the NET Bible[3] explain it this way in a note: “If the young man is not captivated by his wife but is captivated with a stranger in sinful acts, then his own iniquities will captivate him, and he will be led to ruin.”

The message is clear: sexual “freedom” is an illusion. Fools set their own traps and surprise themselves by springing them. The simple claim insufficient knowledge or education, and their traps are no less painful. Even those who ought to be wise struggle in the chains of self-love, self-focus, self-pity, and self-centered fear or insecurity.

Is there hope we’ll ever find the way of life and enjoy God’s delightful wisdom?

Appearances are truly deceptive. How could the son of a carpenter be, as the Nicene Creed states, “very God of very God?” How could one born in obscurity and killed in infamy provide God’s righteousness to any who want it?

Immorality has real consequences, and the pure and righteous one suffered so we immoral ones might be washed clean.

Marriage has phenomenal delights, and the Great Bridegroom chose to die and not demand his rights as Husband. In so doing, he didn’t coerce his Bride, but won her allegiance for the long haul.

Sexual freedom is truly an illusion. Jesus submitted to the cross and the grave so we could be free of both forever; he proved it by his glorious resurrection. Now we get to image him to the world. Find your freedom in self-denial. Obtain life through your death. Secure satisfaction by serving and satisfying others, especially your spouse.

The wise person sees the culture’s illusions, blasts them with Bible dynamite, and wins others to radically selfless, Christ-like joy, far more exciting than either religious prudishness or enslaving immorality.

[1] Shakespeare, Julius Caesar, III.1.273.

[2] Suwanee, GA: Great Commission Publications, Inc., 2003, Questions 11 & 12.

[3] Biblical Studies Press, L.L.C, 1996-2005.

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