Of Secular and Sacred Wisdom: Solomon
Of Secular and Sacred Wisdom: Solomon
Part II. “What has Athens to do with Jerusalem?” Juxtaposing the ancient wisdom of the Athenian gadfly to Jerusalem’s philosopher king.
In the first entry Of Secular and Sacred Wisdom, I briefly laid out the gapping contrast between the Christian and secular intellectual worlds, and how syncretism—a union of the two—is not scripturally sound if applied on a fundamental level, but also isn’t entirely out of the question, either, considering natural law is common ground for evangelism. It follows, then, that modern philosophy, which employs our natural sense of reasoning, may not always be sacred ground, but it is common ground. Today, we would call that common ground or bridge between the worlds of theology and philosophy apologetics, a subdiscipline of evangelism. At times, however, this bridge can often be void of a vital constituent of evangelism—wisdom. It is to that end which I will delve deeper, by comparing and contrasting famous thinkers of the secular and sacred traditions. In this entry, I examine Solomon. Next entry, I examine Socrates.
Luca Giordano, “The Dream of Solomon” (c.1694-5). Oil on canvas.
On the cusp of East and West, one thousand years before the apostle Paul addressed the Areopagus, and well before Aristotle (c.384-322 BC), Plato (c.428-347 BC), and Socrates (c.469-399 BC) catapulted a new era of Western philosophy that still persists today, and roughly four hundred years before natural philosopher Thales of Miletus (c.625-?545 BC) who is generally credited as the first philosopher of his kind distinct from ‘poets and myth-makers’[1], the industrious yet sapient thinker King Solomon (c.1011-931 BC) was globally recognized for his piercing insight and equitable judgment. Still today, he stands as the hallmark of ancient Near Eastern wisdom. While the alleged whimsical remark of Pythagoras (c.570–495 BC) as a self-proclaimed “philosophos” or a “lover of wisdom” would later coin the term philosophy (from Greek philo-sophia, literal translation, “love of wisdom”)[2], it ought to be said that philosophy predates the term itself; birthed out of a general desire to seek wisdom, however subtle and nebulous the approach or aptitude might be to start (cf. Proverbs 4:7). If not for Aristotle’s secular criterion to distinguish philosophy from other thinkers like Homer and Hesiod, perhaps Solomon would be among the Presocratic philosophers[3], irrespective of his divinely inspired authorship. Be that as it may, he is still, perhaps, most reputably known as the world’s first philosopher king who reigned over ancient Israel in the heart of Jerusalem during the Golden Age of the unified Davidic monarchy[4]—a dream that Plato longed for: “[T]here will be no end to the troubles of states, or indeed…. of humanity itself, till philosophers becomes kings in this world, or till those we now call kings and rulers really and truly become philosophers, and political power and philosophy thus come into the same hands…”[5] His reign lasted forty years (1 Kings 11:42), but not without its legendarium; later mystical and rabbinical literature inflate his supposed measureless wisdom well beyond the physical realm. But unlike the mystics and Greek philosophers, Solomon’s wisdom was not grounded in metaphysical isolation.
As history would herald and legend surround, Solomon’s wisdom began in a dream with a sincere, lucid request to God for the gift of right judgment, a sense of justice, and a discerning heart to govern the people of Israel, irrespective of fame, fortune, and a long life (1 Kings 3:6-12, 28), which is at bottom the moral understanding to execute and discern good from evil, virtue from vice, right from wrong, truth from falsehood. His “discerning mind” quickly extended into other notable disciplines distinct from moral understanding, as well, where he supposedly studied, and understood, all things from architecture, economics, and politics to the nature of plants and animals (1 Kings 4:29-34). As God foretold (3:13), his reign captured global recognition because of his unorthodox, yet profound wisdom. In other words, Solomon’s sacred wisdom attracted a secular audience of sorts (1 Kings 4:29-34, 10:23-25).
Writing thousands of songs and proverbs, among other works, only a handful of Solomon’s first-hand works have survived—Proverbs, Ecclesiastes, Song of Songs, and two Psalms—limited to the wisdom literature of the Old Testament or the Ketuvim in Hebrew (Kəṯûḇîm, literal translation, “The Writings”). In such, he juggles patterns by which to live a moral life along with a heavy emphasis on more philosophically sobering themes in the humanities, morality, and metaphysics, albeit of the ancient Near Eastern variety and far less dialectical than later Greek thought. He is on one hand the principal author of practical wisdom literature, particularly the systematic poetry of Proverbs[6], which sharply advocates for theocentric precepts and conscientiousness in everyday living, often drawing from images in nature as a memory aid and mirror, so to speak, to reflect the vices (Proverbs 26:21) and virtues (Proverbs 27:18) of moral behaviour, whether of intention or consequence[7]. On the other hand, his scrutiny is hardly pragmatic. He attempts to recalibrate, as it were, the reader’s sense of wisdom on a presuppositional level, fixed toward a counterintuitive standard. It is in the opening verses of Proverbs where he states his most provocative philosophical claim: “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge, fools despise wisdom and instruction.” (Proverbs 1:7) Which is, then, paralleled by, perhaps, his most renowned theological assertion: “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom, and the knowledge of the Holy One is insight.” (Proverbs 9:10)
Anonymous, “The Judgment of Solomon” (c. AD 79). Found in the house of the physician in Pompeii, Italy, covered by volcanic ash, now displayed in the Naples Museum. It portrays Plato and Aristotle (bottom left corner) in Solomon’s courtroom awestruck by his profound wisdom in ruling. The scene is taken from 1 Kings 3:16-28, when two prostitutes stood before him each claiming to be the mother of the same child.
Proverbial Pillars
Solomon is adamant: In order to “know wisdom and instruction, to understand words of insight, to receive instruction in wise dealing, in righteousness, justice, and equity; to give prudence to the simple, knowledge and discretion to the youth...” (vv.2-4) one must fear God. If Proverbs is to have implicit ontological truths and is to be understood as more than just general truths for intermittent practical application, then it would make sense why Solomon does not mark our sense of fear and moral understanding as the source of wisdom. Notice that both knowledge (1:7) and wisdom (9:10) are mutually intertwined and predicated upon the fear of God and God Himself: “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom, and knowledge of the Holy One is understanding [or insight].” (Proverbs 9:10, 15:33). That is, he ultimately grounds wisdom in God, in which our phenomenological relationship with God is required to obtain it (Proverbs 2:6). The “fear” that Solomon speaks of, here, is not a colloquialism such as ‘fear of the unknown’ or what have you. Fear is a broader category that includes direct awareness of God’s judgment or wrath as well as deep-seated reverence. Socrates, too, acknowledges this principle, “[W]e should say, where there is reverence there is also fear. But there is not always reverence where there is fear; for fear is a more extended notion, and reverence is a part of fear....”[8] Rather, regarding wisdom, the “fear of the Lord” is a reverent, awestruck humility that which acknowledges God’s divine nature and eternal power, His goodness and holiness, in juxtaposition to the temporal cosmic order and our sin condition. One is transitory, the other eternal. The basic criterion of wisdom—God is goodness and truth unified—is a requirement for anyone to have a sense of wisdom at all; a moral necessity he learned from Job, which was ancient wisdom literature during his lifetime: “Behold, the fear of the Lord, that is wisdom, and to turn away from evil is understanding.” (Job 28:28; cf. Proverbs 16:6; Psalm 111:10)
Unlike contemporary philosophy, Solomon is not aiming to explain what knowledge is or how knowledge works, say, how experience, perception, and awareness continually and seamlessly integrate with information. In fact, he is concerned with just the opposite. Throughout Proverbs, he likens wisdom, knowledge, and understanding to a sort of irreducible complexity of the heart (Proverbs 2:10; 8:12; 10:14), which is contingent on Job’s holding fixture: “To fear the Lord is to hate evil; I hate pride and arrogance, evil behavior and perverse speech.” (Proverbs 8:13) In other words, God is the source of wisdom, and to participate in that wisdom one must be like God, one must sincerely hate evil. It is through this hatred of evil that humility and moral understanding come alive like a light radiating from one’s presence, “A man's wisdom makes his face shine, and the hardness of his face is changed.” (Ecclesiastes 8:1) In other words, like Moses whose face glowed after seeing the glory of God, insight revealed by moral understanding manifests a visible reverent, awestruck humility perceptible to everyone.
Humility as a hallmark of wisdom seems to be partially innate, subliminal, or implicit to natural law, as Socrates understood this in principle, too. That if one of the chief goals of wisdom is to possess true knowledge, then it necessarily implies, to Socrates at least, that epistemic humility—self-acknowledged ignorance and understanding limitations of certainty—was integral for philosophical thinking, but again, with different ends in mind.
Grasping Vapour
As time would twist it, Solomon’s great wisdom got to his head, rejecting his own proverbial intents to “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways submit to him, and he will make your paths straight. Do not be wise in your own eyes, fear the Lord and shun evil.” (Proverbs 3:5-7) Instead, he embraced over-abundance and self-indulgence, engrossed in a lavish lifestyle opposite of the impoverished Socrates’, which we will get to next entry. His God-given wisdom gradually befell to a compulsive obsession for earthly wisdom, where wealth, women, and idolatry became opulent expressions of his own self-seeking deviancy (1 Kings 11:1-8); vices he seems to vicariously admit throughout his prose discourse Ecclesiastes (Ecclesiastes 2:1-11; 5:8-20; 6:1-12).
It is here, in Ecclesiastes, when a presumably older Solomon pessimistically interrogates the daily grind and the nature of ultimate reality—pitting wisdom against itself whilst justice hangs in the balance—which would otherwise render this book a weeping account of utter nihilism if God were unaccounted for: “Vanity of vanities, all is vanity…under the sun.” (Ecclesiastes 1:2-3)[9] Tracing over periods of his life, he fluctuates between a self-acknowledged ignorance and keen sense of awareness, which propels him to understand the nature of things from the bottom up through empirical and rational methods as a way to build an account and discern ends. He, then, sets wisdom against death, nature’s ultimate weapon; and in view of this, he plaintively admits that pursuing earthly wisdom is temporary, fleeting, futile, meaningless, or unprofitable like “striving after wind” or “grasping vapor” (Ecclesiastes 2:12-17)—a direct assault on philosophy itself. Advising the reader in intellectual sufficiency; not to be “overwise”, excessively righteous, too wicked, or a brute fool, for “whoever fears God will avoid all extremes” (Ecclesiastes 7:16-18, NIV). But is Solomon really saying that intense “fear of the Lord” or too much humility is wrong? Certainly not!
Consider his statement in contrast with the direction of his moral life. Solomon was “determined to be wise” (v.23), so he turned his “mind to understand, to investigate and to search out wisdom and the scheme of things and to understand the stupidity of wickedness and the madness of folly.”(v.25) To avoid all extremes or to be overwise, then, is categorically a kind of earthly wisdom because he clarifies Godly wisdom is what ought to be sought, “for the one who fears God shall come out from both of them,” (v.18) from being either too righteous or too wicked, too wise or too foolish. Solomon is identifying his fault in pursuing earthly wisdom above Godly wisdom, for in pursuing it above all things you become below all things, from perceptive to mad. Even pleading with those who might possess the same sort of insatiable appetite “to investigate and to search out wisdom”, who desire to discover or construct a scheme for how we, as humans, operate on some fundamental level:
All this I have tested by wisdom. I said, “I will be wise,” but it was far from me. That which has been is far off, and deep, very deep; who can find it out? I turned my heart to know and to search out and to seek wisdom and the scheme of things, and to know the wickedness of folly and the foolishness that is madness…. while adding one thing to another to find the scheme of things…. See, this alone I found, that God made man upright, but they have sought out many schemes…. Who is like the wise? Who knows the explanation of things?
– Ecclesiastes 7:23-29; 8:1
Solomon inevitably retracts his reasonable doubts and moral restlessness by returning to the heart of wisdom, declaring that “the words of the wise heard in quiet are better than the shouting of a ruler among fools. Wisdom is better than weapons of war, but one sinner destroys much good.” (Ecclesiastes 9:13-18). It ought to be clear that when Solomon retracts and returns to the indispensability of wisdom for this life now, he retains a dichotomy between earthly wisdom and Godly wisdom, intensifying even more the necessity of God and humility in wisdom, he concludes, “[T]hen I saw all that God has done. No one can comprehend what goes on under the sun. Despite all their efforts to search it out, no one can discover its meaning. Even if the wise claim they know, they cannot really comprehend it…. As you do not know the way the spirit comes to the bones in the womb of a woman with child, so you do not know the work of God who makes everything.” (Ecclesiastes 8:17; 11:5) The overarching extent of this claim is pivotal for how we ought to understand our sense of true knowledge; when cogitating matters of ultimate reality, or even, say, ecclesiology across sects/denominations, there needs to be a certain air of humility and self-realized ignorance in our interpretation of visible ends since the truth of these matters rest beyond us (cf. Proverbs 3:5-7; 7:23-24).
Morality Justifies Meaning
Solomon’s spiritual and psychological war between morality, reason, and nature ultimately ends on metaphysical ground: Morality justifies meaning. While he perpetually hammers down that “Everything is meaningless!” to emphasize how meaninglessness in this life is also cyclical, he nevertheless nails the meaning of life in two places: (a) our moral responsibility as a response to good and evil in relation to (b) God’s final judgment.
Now all has been heard;
here is the conclusion of the matter:
Fear God [“hate evil”, Prov. 8:13] and keep his commandments,
for this is the duty of all mankind.
For God will bring every deed into judgment,
including every hidden thing,
whether it is good or evil.
– Ecclesiastes 12:13-14
Meaning is only tenable and profitable, if goodness, righteousness, and justice are grounded in God—the meaning of meaning. If God is the ultimate good, then the reverence of God and loathing evil is the beginning of wisdom and knowledge, recognizing and applying patterns of moral understanding—returning to the first proverb he ever wrote (cf. Proverbs 1:1-7, 8:13, 9:10). Therefore, vanity and pride and vainglory are the essence of meaninglessness and immorality. For it strives after fleeting illusions, such as material gain and societal prestige, which is of no moral/spiritual value. Likewise, earthly wisdom is like a person chasing after vapour blowing in the wind, it may appear thick, heavy, and substantial, but it cannot be grasped. Meaninglessness is evil. But not without its provision. Solomon even mentions the fact that the enjoyment of meaningless toil and medial tasks of daily life as well as being partially preoccupied with our wealth and possessions is a “gift from God” in spite of its ultimate insignificance, if understood and applied in moderation (Ecclesiastes 3:12-13; 5:19-20). It is both a blessing and a curse, which is only as enigmatic or paradoxical as our outlook and ambition, for “God does it so that people will fear him” (Ecclesiastes 3:14b; 6:1-2), which is to hate pride, arrogance, perverse speech, and the way of evil.
The natural order of the fallen world is designed for us to desire and chase after true wisdom, reminiscent of the apostle James’ exhortation, “If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask God, who gives generously to all without reproach, and it will be given him.” (James 1:5) This inductively exposes some of the bedrock of unconscious evil: the all-to-human desire to live in a suspended state of disbelief, to escape into our own constructs and schemes, because we love meaninglessness, futility, death and the vanity of things, the ends of which amount to nothingness. We live to die for such pleasures because we hate true wisdom and “love death” (Proverbs 8:36). Yet, it is a gift to those who are in the right with God, so “let your saints rejoice in your goodness.” (2 Chronicles 6:41)[10]
Final Remarks
Though history speaks a warning of his later theological complacency and Epicurean lifestyle, it was not in vain. It is worth considering that God permitted a philosopher and reprobate such as Solomon to author three books of Scripture, which is, of course, the basis of Christian theology. Moreover, consider that Solomon’s perceptive yet pragmatic approach, from presuppositional to practical ends, actually attracted a secular audience of gentile kings, queens, and cultures of all sorts, and for centuries to come (1 Kings 10:1-9; 2 Chronicles 9:1-8; Luke 11:31; Matthew 12:42). In fact, Ecclesiastes still continues to draw secular readers, scholars and laymen alike, to God’s Word today. Famously, the queen of Sheba specifically came with “hard questions” and “all she had on her mind”, of which Solomon openly answered. In return, she proclaimed: “Praise be to the Lord your God, who has delighted in you and placed you on the throne of Israel. Because of the Lord’s eternal love for Israel, he has made you king to maintain justice and righteousness.” (1 Kings 10:9)
While it is fair for any Christian to be skeptical themselves about assuming such an approach in evangelism or missionary work, given that Solomon gave way on his beliefs, it’s important to bear in mind that his love of wisdom became less about God and more about obtaining wisdom in itself, independent of God (cf. Genesis 2:4-7). A moral trajectory he appeared to have progressively wrestled against (Ecclesiastes 2:12-17; 7:23-29; 8:1; 9:13-18), and then conclusively denounced: “Of making many books there is no end,” Therefore, “Fear God and keep his commandments, for this is the duty of all mankind.” (Ecclesiastes 12:9-14) Hate evil. Do good. Be true. Wisdom begins with the fear of God and ends with the love of God.
The wisdom of God is not of the world, but it is for the world. In sum, then, Solomon’s exhortation to obtain wisdom at all costs is evangelistic by default, to “Rescue those who are being taken away to death; hold back those who are stumbling to the slaughter” (Proverbs 24:11, cf.10-12). Wisdom is about bringing goodness into the world from outside of it—a goodness the world desperately needs.
Matlock Bobechko | March 8, 2023 – 9:00 AM EST
[1] Plato, Republic (329D). Extracted from Anthony Kenny, History of Philosophy, 8-56.
[2] Pythagoras supposedly referred to himself, “lover of wisdom” (philosophos) Rather than esteem his reputation to that of the sages and wisemen. Anthony Kenny, A New History of Western Philosophy, 14.
[3] Presocratic (or pre-Socratic) means “before Socrates” and includes philosophers who were not influenced by him. It is not a chronological term nor is it indicative of Socrates’ superiority, as if philosophers before him were inferior. It is primarily used to differentiate between the philosophical methods of Socrates, Plato, and Aristotle.
[4] While each of the twelve tribes of Israel had its own distinct culture, the Tabernacle was the centralized religious institution of national unity. Israelites would walk from all over to worship God. When they established a kingship, however, Israel’s priorities quickly switched from religious to political unity. Well into Israel’s Golden Age of economic prosperity, King Solomon inaugurated the Temple, built cities, established a kingdom, and forged the nation of Israel as a global player. It was, here, when things turned for the worse, when their focus went from God to government. While the Temple was, indeed, a centralized religious institution, immaculate in splendor and architectural brilliance, it nevertheless became iconic or synonymous with the splendor of Israel’s Golden Age—a product of human achievement. Yet, all that said, if we stay focused on God and substitute political for spiritual unity, I can’t help but see a parallel to how God, like a king building his kingdom, uses us to build his eternal kingdom, on earth as it is in heaven. Center your focus on God, and the kingdom will come.
[5] Plato (Author), Lee, Desmond (Translator), Lane, Melissa (Introduction), The Republic, Second Edition with new Introduction (London; Penguin Classics, 2007), 192.
“The society we have described can never grow into a reality or see the light of day, and there will be no end to the troubles of states, or indeed, my dear Glaucon, of humanity itself, till philosophers becomes kings in this world, or till those we now call kings and rulers really and truly become philosophers, and political power and philosophy thus come into the same hands, while the many natures now content to follow either to the exclusion of the other are forcibly debarred from doing so. This is what I have hesitated to say so long, knowing what a paradox it would sound; for it is not easy to see that there is no other real road to happiness either for society or the individual.”
[6] In its broader context, Proverbs essentially means, “be wise before you act” (pro-, “before” and “verb”, action).
[7] Michael David Coogan, Marc Zvi Brettler, Carol Ann Newsom, Pheme Perkins, The new Oxford annotated Bible with the Apocryphal/Deuterocanonical books: New Revised Standard Version, 721-5. New York: Oxford University Press, 2007.
[8] Plato, Euthyphro. Classics Archive. Written c.380 BC, translated by Benjamin Jowett.
http://classics.mit.edu/Plato/euthyfro.html
[9] The Hebrew word translated here as “vanity” has several notable alternatives such as “futility” (HCSB) and “meaningless” (NIV); consider the translation: “Meaningless! Meaningless!” says the Teacher. “Utterly meaningless! Everything is meaningless.” (Ecclesiastes 1:2) The Hebrew word hebel translated as vanity is literally translated “a whisp of smoke,” or “vapour”. Therefore, Solomon is technically saying, “Vapour of vapours, all is vapour.”
[10] God, then, is testing us to see if we will abhor/reject our vertical sense of morality and fully give into our bestial appetite: “As for humans, God tests them so that they may see that they are like the animals. Surely the fate of human beings is like that of the animals; the same fate awaits them both: As one dies, so dies the other. All have the same breath; humans have no advantage over animals. Everything is meaningless. All go to the same place; all come from dust, and to dust all return.” (Ecclesiastes 3:18-21)