Wise guy
Hello, loyal readers! Ever so rapidly, let me drop another podcast link, this time recorded with Dr. David Capes on Exegetically Speaking, a podcast of Wheaton College and the Lanier Theological Library. We discussed the nature of Job’s response to God in 42:6 after the not-so-soft answer he received from the whirlwind. Another Exegetically Speaking episode forthcoming!
Sampling of life
I’ve wrapped up my first year of full-time academic teaching with the Spring semester classes at Duke Divinity School and Jerusalem University College now complete. However, plenty more teaching awaits me in the coming weeks! From the beginning of May through the first weekend of June, the plan is: to deliver 9 lectures for the annual symposium held by a messianic congregation in Columbus, OH; to speak in a high school chapel in Charlotte, NC; to teach a bilingual intensive on Job for two weeks at the Greek Bible College in Pikermi, Greece; and to preach and do Q&A at a church in Albuquerque, NM, as they walk through a sermon series on Job.
Ah yes, Isaac and I are also in preparation mode for a hopeful move to Jerusalem in mid-July. So in the diminishing intervening months, we’ll be attempting to secure student visas from an Israeli consulate, pack up our apartment, sell our car, say farewell to friends in Charlotte, and visit my family in Chicago before launching to Israel. The hope when we arrive in July is to take a modern Hebrew language intensive (Isaac at a much higher level than I!) for about 6 weeks before the academic year starts in October.
Needless to say, our plates are full. I’ve become increasingly inclined, however, to rebrand “full plate” as “overflowing cup” (per Ps 23). It strikes me that it’s very possible to live the exact same life with (at least) two very different internal experiences of that life and consequent outlooks. One might fretfully combat a full plate, releasing a continual stream of remarks about “busyness,” as a haggard spirit chases an illusory arrival at a changelessly clear plate. Alternatively, one might gaze in marveling astonishment at a cup spilling over with blessings, prepared to chuckle at the mild forms of chaos created by liquid in motion.
Do I advocate endlessly heaping responsibilities upon our proverbial dishes under the guise of a sneaky semantic switch? Certainly not. Rest matters, and commitments must be weighed carefully. My point is simply that both the full plate and overflowing cup can have the exact same contents—[insert what makes your life feel “full”]—yet our experience of them can be profoundly divergent depending on which perspective we permit and cultivate over time. I don’t want to find myself a couple more decades down the road grumbling more and chuckling less. So aspirational (not being one naturally prone to enjoy chaos) “overflowing cup,” here I come!
Sampling of teaching
The aforementioned symposium lectures in Columbus occurred this past weekend. Isaac and I traveled to Ohio and were greeted by the consummate hospitality and infectious curiosity of the keen group gathered to savor the Scriptures. I chose to call the teaching series “Where is Wisdom to be Found? Mapping the Terrain of Biblical Wisdom” in an effort to trip our way through the complex thematic footpaths interweaving wisdom, human perception, trust, and obedience all the way from Eden to “Wisdom on legs” (i.e., Jesus as wisdom incarnate). To provide more context, here was the full set of titles for the individual talks:
Surveying the Landscape of Wisdom
In the Garden: Becoming Wise in Genesis
Regaining the Garden: From Meditation to Obedience
In the Royal Court: The Life and Legacy of Solomon, Son of David
In Rival Royal Courts: Competing Visions of Wisdom in Isaiah
Beckoning in Broad Daylight: The Call of Wisdom in Proverbs
Under the Sun: The Complication of Wisdom in Ecclesiastes
Shrouded in Darkness: The Concealment of Wisdom in Job
Wisdom on Legs: The Life and Legacy of Yeshua, Son of David
I offer here a portion of the teaching from session #4 in hope that it will be useful to you as you consider the nature of biblical wisdom and its implications for your life.
Solomon, the unanimously recognized figurehead of wisdom in the Hebrew Bible, has such an intriguing canonical portrait. Let’s sketch it.
As the promised son to David who would inaugurate the perpetual Davidic dynasty (cf. 2 Sam 7:12–15), Solomon was beloved by God from his birth (12:24–25). In his regnal nascency and no doubt daunted by his father’s cavernous shoes to fill, Solomon is granted by God the opportunity to ask for anything. Demonstrating his good sense (wisdom?) right out of the gate, Solomon requests a discerning heart for executing justice as he governs the people. Pleased by Solomon’s commendable desire, God gives to Solomon not only superlative wisdom but also long life, riches, and honor (1 Kgs 3:3–15; cf. 4:20–33).
It’s as if we’ve just watched Solomon stand back in the garden of Eden in front of the two trees and choose life (unlike the original humans). He has recognized his own lack of knowledge and therefore his utter dependence on God to teach him the wisdom he needs to rule. In turn, he receives even more abundant life than he sought, enjoying the paradisiacal blessings of God.
But unfortunately he falters in front of the trees. As 1 Kings relates the account of Solomon’s kingship, the astute reader’s stomach begins to drop with each new evidence that Solomon is turning out to be the antithesis of the Torah’s standards for a king. According to Deuteronomy 17:15–20, the king is supposed to be a Torah scholar and adherent, not multiply horses or return to Egypt for them, not multiply wives lest they turn his heart away from God, not multiply silver and gold, and not consider himself to be better than his fellow Israelites.
How does Solomon measure up? Well, he appears to have used Israelites for conscripted labor (1 Kgs 5:13–17), owned tons of horses, even those from Egypt (4:26; 10:28–29), imported and possessed exorbitant amounts of gold (9:11, 14, 28; 10:11–22), and amassed a harem of sickening scale, with those 1,000 women turning his heart toward idol worship (11:1–13). Solomon is now looking much less like an ideal Adam and much more like the Pharaoh of the exodus. Like that Pharaoh, Solomon is a prolific builder at the cost of extensive forced labor who owns masses of horses and chariots. Further, Solomon’s first recorded wife is the current Pharaoh’s daughter (3:1), which, like many of his marriages, is economically and geopolitically strategic (cf. 9:16–17). Congratulations, Solomon, in your folly you’ve managed to “reverse” the exodus by bringing Egypt to Israel.
Wait, I just ascribed “folly” to the man whose name headlines one of the Bible’s famous wisdom books, as Proverbs famously opens, “The proverbs of Solomon, son of David, king of Israel” (1:1), and attributes two major collections of proverbs to him (10:1; 25:1; cf. 1 Kgs 4:32). Moreover, the figure of Qohelet (usually translated “Teacher” or “Preacher”) in Ecclesiastes definitely casts a Solomonic shadow as well, being identified as a son of David, king over Israel in Jerusalem (Eccl 1:1, 12), and surpassing all predecessors in wisdom (1:16) and wealth (2:9). And then, of course, there’s Song of Songs, in which Solomon plays a hotly debated role. Whether Solomon is perceived to be participating in a love triangle, serving as a foil for the two humble lovers, or looming in the background as an idealized symbol of love and royal abundance, his presence is felt in this book that extols the intimacy, exclusivity, and intensity of love between its male and female protagonists.
If we place Solomon’s track record in 1 Kings alongside the texts (Prov, Eccl, Song) that carry his legacy forward within the Hebrew Bible, our heads may start to hurt from the piercing ring of irony. Imagine Solomon exhorting his son Rehoboam in the words of Proverbs 4:
“Listen, my son, and take my words, that the years of your life may be many. I teach you in the way of wisdom and lead you to tread on upright tracks. When you go, your step will not be hampered, and if you run, you will not stumble. Grab hold of instruction and do not let it go; guard it, for it is your life. Do not come onto the path of the wicked, and do not go forward on the way of evildoers.” (Prov 4:10–14, trans. mine)
Now recall Rehoboam, Solomon’s son and successor. When petitioned for mercy by the people of Israel who’d borne a heavy burden of labor and taxation during Solomon’s reign, Rehoboam chose to listen to the harsh advice of the “young boys” with whom he’d grown up over the more lenient counsel of the elders who’d served his father. Since Rehoboam was 41-years-old when he became king (1 Kgs 14:21), these “young boy”-counselors were probably middle-aged men but are pictured in the narrative as having the equivalent moral maturity of headstrong toddlers. Because he foolishly followed unsound advice to deny leniency to the beleaguered people, Rehoboam lost control of 10 out of 12 tribes, and the kingdom remained divided for the rest of Israel’s and Judah’s histories (1 Kgs 12:1–16). So much for Solomon actually passing on his wisdom to his own son, which he purportedly prioritized in Proverbs.
Or think about Solomon’s inordinate wealth and pursuit of advantageous geopolitical position (many of his marriages probably formed alliances). It all turned out to be utter hebel—Qohelet’s favorite word in Ecclesiastes to describe what is illusory, transitory, and/or ungraspable, evading comprehension and control, like vapor slipping through one’s snatching fingers. Qohelet, the Solomon-esque commentator, steps back and sees the vexation attending such labor:
“So I hated all my toil at which I was toiling under the sun, which I must leave to a man who comes after me. And who knows whether he will be wise or foolish? Yet he will be master over all my toil for which I toiled and for which I exercised wisdom under the sun. Indeed, this is hebel!” (Eccl 2:18–19)
Sure enough, Israel’s national golden age under Solomon would be decimated when his son Rehoboam squandered Israel’s unity. Then Egypt would sweep through and plunder Jerusalem, shattering the bygone era of peace and negating what had been the extraordinary wealth of the royal court in Solomon’s day (1 Kgs 14:25–26). The golden luster of Solomon’s reign swiftly faded away, with no wisdom that he once possessed capable of preserving its glow.
Finally, there’s a stunning contrast between Solomon’s insatiable lust and the intensity of the sentiment about committed love expressed in Song of Songs:
“Set me like a seal upon your heart, like a seal upon your arm. For love is strong as death, its zeal as severe as Sheol; its flames are flames of flashing fire. Many waters cannot extinguish love, and waters cannot wash it away. If a man were to give all the wealth of his house in exchange for love, he would be utterly despised.” (Song 8:6–7)
So Solomon… (1) failed to pass on discernment to his foolish son, (2) typified the hebel pursuit decried by Qohelet, and (3) let his romantic love run rampant. Was he truly wise in the final analysis?
Here’s my (tentative) suggestion: these different vantage points on the figure of Solomon in 1 Kings, Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, and Song of Songs are canonically intended to prompt the reader to ask about essence of wisdom. As we observe Solomon, who “stands behind” (a statement of rhetoric more than authorship) the disseminated wisdom found in the books bearing the stamp of his profile, and who was renowned for a special divine gift of wisdom, we are meant to take instruction and warning from what went wrong in his life.
Via this complex character, we might probe the source and trajectory of wisdom. Regarding its source, the life and legacy of Solomon prompts us to consider: How does relationship with God relate to wisdom? Can one be wise if compromised in God-fearing? And does differentiating the fruits of wisdom from its roots matter? How should the fruits of wisdom (like a position of security, wealth, and/or honor) be handled in order not to compromise what may be more foundational?
For example, we might wonder why God gave Solomon extravagant riches as part of the reward for requesting wisdom (1 Kgs 3:13) since riches would be instrumental in Solomon’s downfall. But maybe the story of Solomon is leading me to reflect on one’s fundamental commitment and motive structure. In the case of Solomon’s wealth, perhaps the key distinction lies in the source: that is, when flourishing is a gift from the God who delights to bless his faithful ones—which Proverbs and Ecclesiastes also seem to indicate—then it is truly good (with the caveat that its presence or absence in this life is not necessarily correlated with faithfulness—see Job, Prov, and Eccl). But when flourishing is pursued in its own right, as if it, rather than a tethering allegiance to God, were the source of wellbeing, then one’s efforts to attain flourishing fail to deliver lasting good. Solomon began to exhibit this “displacement of source” as he threw of the restraint of the boundaries that God had placed on human acquisition (e.g., by marrying foreign wives for gain), and it poisoned him and his kingdom.
We might also probe the trajectory of Solomon’s life. The fact that Solomon began his reign with the profound insight to ask for discernment and then exhibited world-renowned wisdom yet ended his life awash in disobedience and folly prods me to ask: Is wisdom “locked down” and “guaranteed” and “mastered” once “possessed”? Or is the wise life instead something dynamic? Is wisdom meant to be valued and chosen once or every single day? All Solomonic arrows seem to point in the direction of there being a dynamism to wisdom, with one constantly encountering fresh opportunities to grow toward or away from wisdom, contingent on whether one chooses to listen to God’s voice or not.
As always, there’s much more that could be said, and has been much better said by others, on Solomon and the wise life. But there’s a modest handful musings offered for my and your continued contemplation and accompanying obedience.
