Read: Proverbs 25:11 & 20

A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in a setting of silver. Like vinegar on a wound is one who sings songs to a heavy heart (Proverbs 25:11 & 20, NRSV).

Don’t get me wrong. I’m a big fan of vinegar. It makes glassware and windowpanes sparkle. And if you are willing to spring for the fancy balsamic stuff, it can revolutionize your salads.

But vinegar has its place, as our proverb points out, and that place is not on wounds.

So it is with our words. Some perfectly fine words are beautiful in one context and brutal in another. Who of us has not cringed upon hearing a well-meaning friend tell us that our recently departed loved one is “in a better place”? While technically true, it douses our already broken heart with vinegar. As one grieving woman once said, “I know I’ll see my mother again someday. But I miss her NOW.”

All of us struggle to find the right words for certain situations. Sometimes we might do well to remember that the ministry of presence may be the best medicine for a heavy heart. It takes courage just to show up, after all, and that alone may be the most eloquent expression of our love and support. That said, there are times when we must speak even when we are at a loss for words.

There are a lot of proverbs that speak to the importance of a word well-spoken. This testifies to the fact that desperate “word searches” predate computers by several millennia. Being able to find the right words for specific situations is a sure sign of wisdom in the book of Proverbs.  Spouting ill-suited words is a sure symptom of folly.

So far, so obvious. What’s much less obvious is how we should acquire this knack for knowing what to say and when to say it. Some people just seem to have good instincts for this. But short of being jealous of them, is there anything we can do to cultivate this gift?

There’s probably no substitute for maturity. Yet, one of the qualities that we develop as we mature is empathy. What would happen if we were to mix, say, two parts empathy with one part patience? It might mean that when we ran into our recently bereaved neighbor we would first “stop before we blurt.” It doesn’t take long to pause and ask ourselves, “What part of what I’m feeling right now is my own discomfort?” If the answer is, “A lot!” then that split second is long enough to remind ourselves that it’s not about us. Then we might spend the next second or two imagining what our neighbor is feeling in that moment. What would you most need to hear in their situation? Maybe it’s simply, “I’m sorry.” It’s hard to go wrong with that.

So far we’ve got: good instincts and maturity (two parts empathy + one part patience). Let’s add experience to the mix.

I know someone who once attended a reception at which Queen Elizabeth II and Prince Philip were present. He said, “You always knew where they were in the room because of the laughter.” Few of us will ever get as much experience as the royal couple in finding just the right word to say—often to perfect strangers. And perhaps some of us would never get the knack for it even if we did. Still, their story reminds us that this is something we can work at—and presumably get better at with practice.

There is one more thing worth mentioning, and the beauty of it is that it can be applied even if we have lousy instincts, little maturity, and no experience. I’m talking about prayer. That, in the end, may be the best word—and the best strategy—for such situations.

Ponder: What’s the worst thing anyone has ever said to you in a painful or joyful situation? What’s the best thing? What can you learn from both?

Pray: Guard our lips, O God, and give us words that heal and help. Grant a special measure of wisdom to world leaders working and speaking for peace.

Read: Proverbs 26:11

Like a dog that returns to its vomit is a fool who reverts to his folly (Proverbs 26:11, NRSV).

At least a couple of times per week my computer informs me that my printer is “in an error state.” I always receive this message with a sigh since my study is upstairs and the printer is down.

It makes me wonder whether God gets regular messages like this about me. “Carol is in an error state.” Then I imagine God sighing and saying, “Again?! I guess I’d better go down there and see what the problem is.”

It isn’t always obvious to us when we are in an “error state.” Still, even if we received the message, it’s unlikely that we would heed it. As today’s featured proverb observes, we foolish humans have a habit of returning to the same folly over and over again.

The proverbs are good at making memorable comparisons, and this one may win the prize in the “disgusting but accurate” category. Having said this, I’m sure someone will let me know that it is perfectly natural for dogs to eat their own vomit. Before you hit “send,” however, let me assure you that I am aware of this, having done some research in the process of writing this reflection. Dogs do indeed have more olfactory receptors than humans do, all of which tell them that there is still good food to be had such situations. While this does vindicate the dog, it does not vitiate the proverb. The proverb, after all, is designed for a human audience. If it were targeted toward a canine audience it might read, “As a human wastes perfectly good vomit is a fool who wastes the lessons of wisdom.”

I digress—although I wonder if there might be a market for re-writing the book of Proverbs for dogs. Alas, that is a challenge that will have to wait for another day. For today, let’s focus on why we are so quick to be disgusted by our dog’s behavior, but so slow to be disgusted by our own.

In short: why do we so often repeat the same sins—sometimes just after we have confessed them and promised to turn over a new leaf? I suspect this was what C.S. Lewis was getting at when he referred to his “harem of fondled hatreds.”* Or John Donne, who puns on his last name in this telling prayer:

Wilt thou forgive that sin which I did shun

            A year or two, but wallow’d in, a score?

                        When thou hast done, thou hast not done,

                                    For I have more.**

Like dogs, we are incorrigible. Or, to return to the less disgusting analogy with which we began, our capacity to be in an “error state” is infinite. Fortunately for us, so is God’s grace.

So, the next time you find yourself—yet again—in an error state, imagine God sighing patiently and saying, “I guess I’d better go down and see what the problem is.”

Ponder: What rings true about this proverb for you?

Pray: Thank you for your patience and your grace, O God. Help us to recognize our folly and make wiser choices.

*In Surprised by Joy: The Shape of My Early Life (originally published in the UK by Geoffrey Bles, 1955)

**Here is a link to the whole poem, “A Hymn to God the Father” by John Donne.

Read: Proverbs 23:13-14

Do not withhold discipline from your children; if you beat them with a rod, they will not die. If you beat them with the rod, you will save their lives from Sheol (Proverbs 23:13-14, NRSV).

It’s hard to know what to do with a proverb like this. No, check that. It’s not hard to know what to do with it. Choose your preferred option from this list: reject it, ignore it, and/or weep for all the anguish it has wrought over the millennia.

Before we consign this proverb to oblivion, however, it might be wise to ask whether there is still something to be salvaged from it. No, I’m not going to suggest that it’s ever appropriate to beat your children with a rod. I am going to suggest, however, that the essential impulse of the proverb—discipline—is worthy of serious consideration.

The book of Proverbs is full of comparisons, so perhaps an analogy or two would help here. A fire, for instance, is best enjoyed inside a fireplace. Food—no matter how delicious—is best enjoyed in moderation. A river is best when it stays inside its banks. (Having experienced a house fire, too much of my grandma’s fried chicken, and the Mississippi flood of 1965, I can personally attest to the truth of these examples.) “Everything in moderation” the ancient Greeks observed, and their point is well-taken even today. Although I can’t resist Oscar Wilde’s point as well: “Everything in moderation, even moderation.”

Without limits, life would be chaos. Rivers would overflow, stomachs would explode, fires would burn unchecked. If you have ever dealt with a child up past their bedtime, you know the truth of this, and this may be part of the “discipline” our proverb is pushing. Consistent limits, wisely and lovingly enforced, make for happier children, happier parents, and ultimately, for happier societies. God save us from people in power who have never learned to accept the word “no.”

There are two themes that are central to the whole book of Proverbs: wisdom and discipline. They are portrayed as a kind of matched pair that should never be “put asunder.” Wisdom without discipline makes no sense, since to have the former implies that you have the latter. Discipline without wisdom, on the other hand, can quickly turn demonic.

One of my favorite hymns meditates on how limits have been built into God’s design from the beginning. The hymn is called, “God Marked a Line and Told the Sea,” and the words are by Tom Troeger:

God marked a line and told the sea its surging tides and waves were free

to travel up the sloping strand, but not to overtake the land.

God set one limit in the glade where tempting, fruited branches swayed,

and that first limit stands behind the limits that the law defined.

The line, the limit and the law are patterns meant to help us draw

a bound between what life requires and all the things our heart desires.

But, discontent with finite powers, we reach to take what is not ours,

And then defend our claims by force and swerve from life’s intended course.

We are not free when we’re confined to every wish that sweeps the mind,

but free when freely we accept the sacred bounds that must be kept.

God, evidently, did not think it wise to withhold discipline from God’s children.

Ponder: What limits have made your life better? Worse? Why?

Pray: Help us to discipline wisely, and help us to accept wise discipline well.

Read: Proverbs 27:19

Just as water reflects the face, so one human heart reflects another (Proverbs 27:19, NRSV).

Every now and then I have occasion to pass through Schiphol airport in Amsterdam. I’ll be walking along, hurrying to get to my departure gate when I see someone I recognize. “What an amazing coincidence,” I think. I smile. I wave. Sometimes I even call out their name. But then the puzzled expression on their face tells me that the recognition is not mutual, and I find myself issuing a non-verbal apology that can be understood in any language.

Maybe I’m a slow learner, but this game of Schiphol “gotcha” catches me off guard every time. When I realized that it only seems to happen to me in Amsterdam, I began to work out what was going on. I live in Holland, Michigan. Could genetics be behind my false sense of recognition? What if the person I think is my next door neighbor is actually a distant relative of my next door neighbor? Of course, I’ll never know, since I can’t very well run around asking perfect strangers for DNA samples. But it’s a theory.

I’m not sure there is any explanation for the kind of recognition described in Proverbs 27:19, however. Just as water reflects the face, so one human heart reflects another. We know it’s true. It’s a “thing.” But how it works is one of life’s most wonderful mysteries. Sometimes the connection we feel to another is instantaneous; sometimes it grows gradually over time. Sometimes it lasts a lifetime; sometimes only for a few minutes. But it is real, and this proverb testifies to the fact that it has been a thing for a very long time.

To be clear, I’m not talking about what people refer to as love at first sight. Maybe this phenomenon is related, but more often than not, love at first sight is three parts projection and one part connection. (We could quibble about percentages, but you get my point.) Especially in romantic situations, we tend to see what we want to see, and we discover our mistake later to our sorrow. Once in a while, however, if we are very, very fortunate, that initial sense of seeing and being seen proves to be absolutely spot on.

Some years ago I found myself at a small reception after a worship service. I had no great expectations of this event. As an introvert, such situations make me uncomfortable, and this was no exception. My plan was to make short work of my prosecco, pay my respects to the host, and beat a hasty retreat.

But then I saw someone sitting all alone by the fireplace, and compassion overcame my inner introvert. I walked over and introduced myself. Imagine my surprise when ten minutes later, I found myself deep in conversation with one of the most delightful people I had ever met. What’s more, it was not just a superficial conversation. In ten minutes it felt like we had covered more ground than some people cover in ten years. We might be talking still if our host had not interrupted and insisted on dragging me over to meet someone else. I left my new friend reluctantly, thinking, “Just as water reflects the face, so one human heart reflects another.”

What makes this story so unique is that I have had the opportunity to follow this person’s work over time. (He and his partner broadcast a morning prayer service that I “attend” every day.) It has given me a rare opportunity to confirm my first impressions. We really are what Anne of Green Gables would call, “kindred spirits.”

I don’t know how this works. I don’t know why it works. I only rejoice that in this weird and wonderful world, it does work. And when it does, it is pure gift.

Ponder: Have you ever experienced this kind of “kindred spirit” recognition with someone?

Pray:

For the joy of ear and eye, for the heart and mind’s delight,

For the mystic harmony linking sense to sound and sight:

Lord of all, to thee we raise this, our hymn of grateful praise.

For the joy of human love, brother, sister, parent, child,

Friends on earth, and friends above, for all gentle thoughts and mild,

Lord of all, to thee we raise this, our hymn of grateful praise.

From the hymn, “For the Beauty of the Earth”; words by Folliott S. Pierpont, 1864.

Read: Proverbs 31

A capable wife who can find? She is far more precious than jewels (Proverbs 31:10, NRSV).

What is there about Proverbs 31 that brings out the weirdness in people? Whole ministries are founded on what people perceive to be its vision of “biblical womanhood.” It has even inspired its own line of merchandise featuring everything from t-shirts to tote bags. One wonders what King Lemuel and his mother would have made of it all (see v. 1).

To be honest, I can’t afford to be too critical. I have vivid memories of gathering around an open Bible with the other girls in my seventh grade Sunday school class. The Bible was open to Proverbs 31 which, because it has 31 verses, made the perfect playground for our romantic fantasies. (Cue much giggling.) To play the “Proverbs 31 Game,” each of us read the verse that corresponded with our birthday. The result was used to predict something about our future married life. This often produced a mixture of delight and consternation. What, for instance, was the girl born on the second day of the month supposed to make of “No, my son! No, son of my womb! No, son of my vows!” The girl born on the 28^th, on the other hand, waved her verse around like a banner, celebrating the certainty that “her children rise up and call her happy; her husband too, and he praises her.”

Looking back, I find our game cringe-worthy for any number of reasons. For instance, I no longer recommend using the Bible as a Ouija board. (Though, to be fair, seventh grade girls could get up to worse things.) The assumption that marriage is the goal of every little girl also makes me wince. But I think what I object to the most is the popular assumption that Proverbs 31 offers us a picture of the “ideal wife,” at least in any conventional sense.

Professor Ellen Davis has been instrumental in helping me to reimagine the “valorous woman” who is praised in this poem. Far from being the epitome of a conservative male fantasy (June Cleaver on steroids), this is a woman to be reckoned with. As usual, translation makes a difference. “Capable” in verse 10 is a feeble choice for a Hebrew word that is more often used to convey physical strength and valor. (Yes, it’s used in military contexts!) More broadly, however, Davis points out that significant cultural differences make it dangerous to assume that the valorous woman of Proverbs 31 is the patron saint of June Cleaver.

According to Davis, we need to remember that when Proverbs 31 was written, the economy was based in the household. In other words, “the household was the primary economic unit, where most real goods were produced. Within this economic system, not only was the labor of women essential, but also their social, managerial, and even diplomatic skills, as the story of Abigail (1 Samuel 25) exemplifies.” What’s more, the home was the “central social and religious institution, the place where Israelite identity was established.”*

All of this is to say, the “worthy woman” of Proverbs 31 is a picture of someone who is strong, enterprising, courageous, kind, intelligent, generous, godly, and wise. Yes, she is a mother and a wife, but she is also a mover and shaker in her community. Oh, and did I mention that the chapter that describes her is “the most unambiguously flattering portrait of any individual, man or woman” in all of Hebrew scripture?*

I’m not sure all of that is going to fit on a t-shirt.

Ponder: Do you have any memories or experiences of this chapter? How have your views evolved?

Pray: Shape our ideas, our values, and our lives so that they reflect what is truly worthy.

*Quotes are from Ellen Davis’s commentary on Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, and the Song of Songs (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2000) pp. 150-155.

Read: Proverbs 25:28

Like a city breached, without walls, is one who lacks self-control (Proverbs 25:28, NRSV).

When was the last time you crumpled to the floor in a heap after being gently corrected? (Not since graduate school….) Have you ever sulked behind the couch during someone else’s birthday party and declared it to be, “THE WORST DAY OF MY LIFE!”? (Not that I’m willing to admit….) Who of us hasn’t stormed back into the oval office to plot a coup when we found out we’d lost the election? (Oh, right. Only one of us has done that….)

When a 3-year-old gets the sulks over one of life’s disappointments, we often smile—albeit behind our hands. But when an adult greets disappointment by pitching a fit, it’s not so funny. We expect adults to be better at self-regulation.

Parents work hard at teaching their children self-control. This isn’t easy, since part of what motivates self-control is the ability to imagine negative consequences. Let’s try this out on the examples used above.

“If I crumple to a heap after my mom has suggested that I not hit her on the nose…I may delay the fun thing we were doing before I hit her.”

“If I sulk behind the couch at my little brother’s birthday party…I may miss getting any cake.” (Points to that child for her gift for hyperbole, though!)

“If I plot a coup to stay in office…I may get arrested and/or imperil democracy.” (Oh, that’s right. The person I’m thinking of is a narcissist, so only the getting arrested part would work as an incentive. And since he assumes that “NO ONE WOULD DARE TO ARREST ME!” that wouldn’t work either. Does he get a free pass because he is a narcissist? Of course not, but it does explain a few things. It might even make it easier to pray for him—even as we pray for the survival of our democracy.)

So, barring a bad case of narcissistic personality disorder, consequential thinking is key for developing self-control. But since consequential thinking doesn’t develop fully until we are in our 20’s, this means that parents have their work cut out for them. Still, God help the child, the parents, and the community if the parents don’t take that work seriously.

This, I think, is the point that our proverb is making. In the ancient world, the wall around the city meant the difference between life and death. A breach in that wall would put everyone at risk.

In Galatians 5:22-23, self-control is listed as a “fruit of the Spirit,” along with love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, and gentleness. In fact, self-control is listed last. Current events make me wonder if that New Testament writer saved the best for last. But wherever self-control falls in the list, it’s clear that our “city” is not safe without it.

Ponder: Is fear of negative consequences the only thing that motivates self-control? What works for you?

Pray: Give us the maturity to control our negative impulses, and deliver us from those who don’t.