Wisdom is a Poor Comfort
A Tempting Idol
I love knowing things. I love knowing more than others. I love sharing information that makes me look smart. I love when people say that I'm intelligent even if I outwardly react uncomfortably.
From a young age, I found out that despite my awkwardness, despite my lack of social skills or athletic ability, God had gifted me with a skilled mind. And that skilled mind became my god. Years later, God saved me from my sin and united me to Christ, making me a new creation, but my old self still clings on for life in its final death throws. My conversion was about 10 years ago, but I am still regularly enamored with the romantic idea of being the smartest guy in the room. I often think about how it would be really cool to know a little something about everything so that I am intellectually competent in every situation.
But the pursuit of this fantasy has not brought me the joy or comfort that I so badly crave. If anything, it just brings me further anxiety. Often my time in God's word is plagued with fears that I will misinterpret the text. In relationships, I try to understand what makes my friends and church family tick, so that I can find the right combination of words to say to get them to react how I want. I can disguise this pursuit in a desire to love and know them, but often I really just want to fix the parts about them that I think need fixing.
I know that I have an idol of knowledge and intelligence. I've known that for the 10 years that I have been a believer. But that has not stopped me from foolishly falling into the same sinful patterns, because I fear that if I am not smart, then I'll have nothing left. I fear that my friends will lose interest in me. I fear that I will lose control of my life. And I desire to be smart enough to finally be free from the uncertainties and anxieties of this world. The idol that I know God's word tells me is false I so often pine after.
A Poor Comfort
The good news is that God through his word speaks directly into my situation. In the book of Ecclesiastes, the Preacher (the central speaker of the book) seeks for lasting purpose in all areas of life, and every time comes up empty. His repeated conclusion after seeking out purpose in something is "behold, all is vanity and a striving after wind" (Eccl 1:14b). Wisdom is one of the things that he sought after and found to be striving after wind. Here is his account of that pursuit:
"I said in my heart, “I have acquired great wisdom, surpassing all who were over Jerusalem before me, and my heart has had great experience of wisdom and knowledge.” And I applied my heart to know wisdom and to know madness and folly. I perceived that this also is but a striving after wind.
For in much wisdom is much vexation,
and he who increases knowledge increases sorrow." (Eccl 1:16-18)
Much like I, the Preacher speaks to himself in an attempt to comfort himself: "I said in my heart..." He is trying to tell himself that this great wisdom that he has amassed– so great that he is the greatest of any of the kings God appointed to rule his people– that this wisdom should be the thing that he can rely on. But, instead of this bringing him relief, instead, he realizes a devastating truth: more wisdom brings more vexation and sorrow.
Is it not true that he who knows more mourns more? The more I know about the people in my church, the more aware I am of the sins and sorrows in their lives. And the more I know, the more anxious I become about all the problems that I am unable to fix. The Preacher rightly says "What is crooked cannot be made straight, and what is lacking cannot be counted" (Eccl 1:15). In other words, he who knows more is more aware of how broken the world is.
The first verse of Ecclesiastes introduces the Preacher as "the son of David", which helps us understand how this book fits into the gospel: the Preacher is a shadow of Christ. Jesus was the wisest man to walk the earth. And not only that, he had the infinities of his divine omniscience to pull from. He knew everything. And this did not bring him comfort nor security. Quite the opposite. Isaiah described Jesus as a "man of sorrows" (Isa 53:3), because that is what characterized Jesus' life up through his death. Jesus was fully aware of just how broken the people he lived amongst were. While others went about their lives in ignorance, Jesus saw deeper. He was deeply moved by crowds because he knew they were helpless and misled (Matt 9:36). He lamented over Jerusalem because he knew its rebellion (Luke 13:34). He did not trust people because he knew their hearts (John 2:23-25). And above all, Jesus knew that his death at the hands of the wrath of God was coming (John 2:4). Was it bad that Jesus knew? No, it was good, very good, in fact, especially for us. But it nonetheless was not a comfort for him. Knowledge and wisdom may be blessings in certain ways, but ultimately they are poor comforts.
A Simple Hope
Where do we go with this? This view of wisdom in Ecclesiastes is dark and depressing, and has a very different tone than that of another book in the wisdom literature: Proverbs. In fact, Proverbs talks about wisdom extremely highly and warns of dangerous consequences for not having wisdom (Prov 1:24-27). The answer is straightforward and lies in chapter 1:
"The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge;
fools despise wisdom and instruction." (Prov 1:7)
Wisdom only provides comfort and security if it leads you to the fear of God, because God is the only comfort and security. When I make wisdom an idol that I worship in hopes that I will be more liked by my friends, that I will not lose my job, that I will be in control of any situation, it is no longer about God. Wisdom without God is like a PB&J without peanut butter or jelly. Proverbs 3 expands upon this further:
"Trust in the Lord with all your heart,
and do not lean on your own understanding.
In all your ways acknowledge him,
and he will make straight your paths.
Be not wise in your own eyes;
fear the Lord, and turn away from evil.
It will be healing to your flesh
and refreshment to your bones." (Prov 3:5-8)
Wisdom acts like a big neon sign that says "DO NOT TRUST IN ME! TRUST IN GOD!" Like everything else in the Christian life, trusting in wisdom, something other than God, will end in disaster. If I try to use my IQ to make my paths straight and follow God, my IQ will fail me. I cannot ensure that my friends will never leave me or that my work will never fire me. But if I listen to wisdom and turn to God in my need, he will be healing to my flesh and refreshment to my bones, no matter the circumstances of my life.
God did not design wisdom to work in this very simple way for no reason. Instead, wisdom works in this way because of God's grace that he demonstrated when he sent his Son into the world. Jesus pursued wisdom perfectly in his life on earth. He answered the call of lady wisdom every time (Prov 1:20). And as I talked about earlier, the knowledge that Jesus had to show for it did not bring him respite, but further suffering. But Jesus could do something that the Preacher never could: he could make the crooked straight. The Hebrew word for iniquity is related to the Hebrew word for crooked. Jesus went up on the cross in order to take the punishment for our crookedness and foolishness, so that the world could be made straight again. All of my learning will never change the world, because all I could ever do is know how hopeless I and others are. But Jesus had the power to solve the world's brokenness, which will one day come to final completion. Therein lies my hope. Jesus is my solid rock, my comfort and security, and wisdom is a great gift that always points me back to him.