Who hath woe? Who hath sorrow? Who contentions? Who complaining? Who wounds without cause? Who redness of eyes?
The wise man does not open with a warning. He opens with a riddle. Six short questions pile up a list of miseries, and none of them names a cause. One commentator notes that the questions also carry the force of cries, and that the last one may mean darkened eyes rather than red ones:
"Who has (or, oh!) woe? Who has (or, alas!) sorrow? … Who has redness (or, darkness) of eyes?"
The next verse answers the riddle. One writer reads the six questions as symptoms with a single cause:
Verse 29 asks six questions: who has woe, sorrow, strife, complaining, wounds without cause, and redness of eyes? If these symptoms are present, the sufferer certainly has only himself to blame. He has given himself over to indulging in strong drink.
Other sins ruin a person too. Why does this one close the chapter with such a long list of shame?
Of all the desires of the flesh, none exposes a person to so much shame and grief, from start to finish, as drunkenness. Other sins may be deadly to yourself or to those closest to you, but this one dulls the mind more, deadens feeling, and leads to both foolishness and violence. "Who has woe? … Who has redness of eyes?" The answer is easy: "Those who linger long over wine; those who go to try mixed wine." Heavy drinking always looks for more and stronger stimulants, until the craving for them becomes overpowering.
The warning is not dropped in at random. It closes a chapter that opened at a ruler's dinner table:
The chapter began with the evil of self-indulgence in eating, above all in a ruler's house. It ends with the even plainer danger of heavy drinking, wherever it happens. What a vivid sketch the wise man draws!
The wise man then goes back to the start of the process — the look of the cup. His advice is to stop the desire before it grows:
The advice that follows is just as wise: cut the desire off at the very start. "Do not look at wine when it is red, when it sparkles in the cup and goes down smoothly." Resist the beginnings. Do not be caught by the attractive look. "Avoid it, do not pass by it, turn from it, and go on your way." "The wine of violence" is not the only danger. What is bright and pleasant is a danger too.
The bite comes at the end, not the beginning. The same holds for anything we insist on having our own way in:
What is the end of it in this world, which the preacher warns about here? "In the end it bites like a serpent and stings like an adder." This is true of following our own will in anything, and it is especially the effect of giving in to this degrading pleasure. What physical pain it brings! What self-blame it leaves on the conscience!
The cup also pictures every pleasure people reach for to fill an emptiness inside:
This is why fallen man has a hunger in his heart that nothing seems able to satisfy. The world offers to cure this painful sickness. But the sheer number of its remedies is evidence against its proud claims. Those who have tried them complain bitterly that they have spent their money on what is not bread, and their labour on what does not satisfy… And wine is only a picture of the best of earthly joys, which never satisfy, and are nothing but emptiness and grief of spirit.
Naming the disease is not the same as curing it. One writer warns that a pledge to give up drink treats only a symptom:
What the sinner needs at the start is a new life. He cannot take one step toward God before that. And this is exactly what the Gospel announces at once, without money and without price. The gift, the free gift of God, is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord… So to occupy people with a pledge never to drink is to hand them a fake medicine at best. And it treats one symptom, not the root of the disease. It turns them away from the Gospel, which cures the drunkard as effectively as it cures anyone else.
- Riddle — The verse names six miseries before it names their cause. The reader has to answer for himself.
- Blame — The wounds come "without cause" from outside. The sufferer has only himself to blame.
- Beginning — The advice is to resist the first look, and to cut the desire off at the very start.
- End — What sparkles in the cup bites at the last, and the same is true of all our own will.
- Cure — A pledge treats one symptom. A new life through Jesus Christ reaches the root, and the Gospel cures the drunkard as effectively as anyone else.
-- They that tarry long at the wine; they that go to try mixed wine.
Verse 29 asks six questions about a man with woe, quarrels, unexplained bruises and bloodshot eyes. Verse 30 gives the answer. It is not bad luck. It is a habit with two parts: staying too long, then going out to look for something stronger.
Commentators read verses 29 and 30 as one unit: a diagnosis and its cause. The second half cuts deepest. The drinker is not simply overtaken. He goes looking.
Of all the cravings of the flesh, none exposes a person to so much shame and grief, from first to last, as drunkenness. Other cravings may bring deadly ruin on us or on our partners. But this one dulls the mind more, empties it of sense, and leads to both folly and violence. "Who has woe? Who has sorrow? Who has contentions? Who has complaining? Who has wounds without cause? Who has redness of eyes?" The answer is easy: "Those who tarry long over wine; those who go to try mixed wine." Heavy drinking always seeks more and stronger stimulation, until the craving for it becomes overpowering.
A modern reader might assume that mixing means watering down. Here the opposite is true — and mixing wine is not always bad in Scripture.
The mixing here was not, as in some cases, to dilute the drink. It was to increase its strength… The same verb is used for mixing spice with wine in Proverbs 9:5 and Isaiah 5:22, which Gesenius groups together. One is a good connection, the other an evil one.
The six symptoms of verse 29 are not sent from outside. Trace them back and they end at a choice, and at something that looked good.
If these symptoms are present, it is certain that the sufferer has only himself to blame. He has given himself up to indulging in intoxicating liquor (v. 30). It seems very attractive and enticing (v. 31), not only by its taste, but by its look. However, at the last it bites like a serpent and stings like a viper (v. 32).
The search never ends, and the chapter follows it to the end. The man who has been beaten and cannot feel it still wants more.
Their talk is just as idiotic. "They have struck me"; yet, "I am not hurt." "They have beaten me"; yet, "I did not feel it." "When shall I awake?" they mumble. Even then they are not ashamed to say, "I will seek it yet again."
The trap works by attraction. So the advice in verse 31 aims earlier than the drinking. It aims at the look.
The advice given is just as wise: stop the desire at the start. "Do not look at the wine when it is red, when it sparkles in the cup, when it goes down smoothly." Resist the beginnings. Do not be caught by the attractive look. "Avoid it, do not go near it, turn from it, and pass on." "The wine of violence" is not the only danger. The bright, pleasant kind is a danger too.
The cup stands for something wider. The heart has a hunger that no earthly joy can fill.
This is why man in his fallen condition has hunger in his heart, which nothing seems able to satisfy. The world offers to cure this painful sickness. But the sheer number of its remedies is itself evidence against its proud claims… And wine is only a picture of the best of earthly joys. They never satisfy. They are only vanity and a chasing after wind.
One writer sets drunkenness beside being filled with the Spirit. Both carry a person outside himself, but from opposite sources.
The Spirit-filled believer is the subject of an extraordinary lift. He is carried clean outside himself, centred in Christ, and enabled for the service of God in a power which is more than human. The man who is drunk with wine is carried outside himself in a way that is wholly evil. By the Spirit of God we may be carried outside ourselves in a way that is wholly good.
- Seeking. The six miseries of verse 29 belong to those who stay long and then go looking for more. The drinker does the searching, so he alone is to blame.
- Stronger. The mixed wine was spiced to increase its strength, not to dilute it. Heavy drinking always needs a bigger dose to do the same job.
- Sooner. Because the bait is the sparkle in the cup, the warning targets the look, not the last glass: resist the beginnings.
- Circling. Beaten and unable to feel it, the drunkard still says he will seek it again. The search closes into a loop that teaches him nothing.
- Satisfied. Wine pictures the best of the world's joys, and they never fill the heart's hunger. The alternative is not emptiness. It is being filled with the Spirit and carried outside yourself in a way that is wholly good.
Look not upon the wine when it is red, when it sparkleth in the cup, and goeth down smoothly
Proverbs 23 closes with a long warning about drink, and this verse aims at the eye rather than the throat. Why does the warning stop us at the look, before a drop is swallowed, and what does the cup stand for?
The verse follows what the drink does in the cup and in the throat. Translators have rendered the last phrase in two ways, and one writer explains which sense fits:
As far as the sense goes, the words translated "moves itself upwards" would be far better rendered "goes down sweetly," "smoothly," or "straightly." The verse pictures a man getting drunk, not wine fermenting. The seductive power belongs to the cup of wine. The verse gives no hint at all about signs the liquid shows in the vat. It certainly does not become alcoholic after it is poured into the cup, as that odd reading suggests.
The counsel is preventive. It targets the moment when nothing has gone wrong yet:
The advice to nip the desire in the bud is just as wise. "Do not look at wine when it is red, when it sparkles (or gives its colour) in the cup and goes down smoothly (or moves itself aright)." Resist it at the start. Do not be caught by the attractive look. "Avoid it, do not go on it, turn from it, and pass on." The danger is not only "the wine of violence," but the bright and pleasant cup as well.
The chapter has already listed woe, sorrow, quarrels, complaints, bruises and bloodshot eyes. One writer sets this appetite apart from all the others:
Of all the lusts of the flesh, none exposes a person so much to shame and grief as drunkenness, from first to last. Others may destroy you or those closest to you. This one dulls the mind more, leaves a person more senseless, and leads to both folly and violence... Lack of restraint always looks for stronger stimulants, until the craving for them takes over.
Verse 31 describes the charm, and verse 32 tells how it ends. One writer traces those bloodshot eyes back to the man himself:
If these symptoms are present, it is certain that the sufferer has only himself to blame. He has given himself up to indulging in intoxicating liquor (v. 30). It seems very attractive and enticing (v. 31), not only by its taste, but by its look. However, at the last it bites like a serpent and stings like a viper (v. 32). It will damage his mind and heart. His imagination runs wild and twisted words come out of his mouth, because he has lost control of his senses (v. 33).
Commentators do not read this as a blanket ban on wine. The same writer who presses the warning also traces how the rest of the Bible speaks of it:
He sees in the New Testament neither contradiction nor difficulty. The Lord began His miracles by turning water into wine (John 2)... Finally, the Holy Spirit more than once dwells on the end of the drunkard (1 Cor. 6, Gal. 5)... and warns believers, especially prominent ones, against excess in daily life. At the same time, He takes care (1 Tim. 5:23) to calm the worries of a devoted young servant of Christ. He tells him to use a little wine instead of water, for his stomach and his frequent illnesses. God is so kind that He takes an interest even in the physical weakness and needs of those who love Him!
The warning begins with a literal cup. But the cup also pictures a deeper thirst:
Man in his fallen condition has a hunger in his heart, which nothing seems able to satisfy... Wine is only a picture of the best earthly joys. They never satisfy. They are empty, like chasing the wind.
Taken that way, the warning reaches people who never touch a glass:
Our joy comes from a purer spring than the wine vat. Our strength comes from a mightier source than anything that only stirs up nature. By wine, Scripture means not the literal drink, but whatever stimulates and excites the flesh. A person can avoid wine completely and still be under its power in a spiritual sense. Anything that merely gives fleshly energy, fleshly stimulation, or fleshly excitement in the things of God has to be refused.
- Look — the command lands on the eye. The advice is to nip the inclination in the bud, because the bright and agreeable is a danger as real as the violent.
- Linger — stay with the cup and it takes charge. Lack of restraint always looks for stronger stimulants, until the craving takes over.
- Lose — drink damages the mind and heart. The imagination runs wild, twisted words come out, and self-control is gone. At the last it bites.
- Limit, not ban — Scripture warns the drunkard and warns against excess. Yet it tells Timothy to take a little wine for his stomach.
- Look higher — wine pictures the best earthly joys, and they never satisfy. A person can drink nothing at all and still be ruled by whatever stirs up the flesh.
at the last it biteth like a serpent, and stingeth like an adder.
This warning closes a chapter about appetite, and it comes late on purpose: the cup looks pleasant first, and only then does the verse name what it is. The question the verse forces is one of timing — by which moment do you judge a pleasure, its first taste or its last?
The verse turns on the words "in the end." One commentator asks what that end is, and answers with two kinds of ruin — in the body, and in the conscience.
What is the end in this world that the preacher warns about here? "In the end it bites like a serpent and stings like an adder." This is true of all our own self-will, and it is especially the effect of giving in to this degrading pleasure. What physical pain it brings, and what self-reproach for the conscience!
One reference work traces the snake behind the word "adder."
Translators give this word as "adder" only once, here, and as "cockatrice" four times… It is thought to be the "yellow viper" of Palestine, which hides in dens and whose poison is deadly. It is said to resist the tricks of the snake charmers. The cockatrice was an imaginary creature, and the translators perhaps used the name for some unknown deadly snake.
Why does this one appetite get so much attention? One writer sets it beside the other desires of the flesh, and shows why the craving grows instead of settling.
Of all the lusts of the flesh, none from first to last brings so much shame and grief as drunkenness. Others may bring deadly ruin to a person or to a partner. But this one dulls the mind more, deadens the feelings more, and leads to folly and violence alike… Heavy drinking always seeks more and stronger stimulation, until the thirst for it takes over.
Because the sting comes last, the guard must go up first — while you are still only looking at the cup. One writer tells you to stop before the desire forms, and to treat the pleasant look as a real danger.
Resist the beginnings; do not be caught by the attractive look. "Avoid it, do not pass by it, turn from it, and pass on." "The wine of violence" is not the only danger; the bright and the pleasant are dangers too.
The verses that follow show the bitten man, and the strangest detail is that the pain does not reform him. The drunkenness dulls the very suffering that ought to have been his warning.
He will be like a man lying down on a stormy sea, or on the top of a mast. He is tossed back and forth and left to the beating of the wind and waves. Yet he barely feels the pain of it, because he is in a drunken stupor (vv. 34-35). He learns nothing useful from the experience either. He would rather repeat his foolish ways, though they bring him down lower and lower.
Commentators also read the picture beyond drink. One writer applies the bite to sin itself, and says where independence from God ends.
The sting of the scorpion is in its tail. This is the way of sin. Sin may have its "pleasures for a season," but, like the enchanted wine-cup, "in the end it bites like a serpent and stings like an adder" (Prov. 23:32). Sin — independence from God — is not only barren: it carries poison inside it, and death at the end.
Another writer treats wine as a stand-in for the best that earth can give. His point is what a creature made for God can and cannot live on.
God placed the thinking creature at the start in a happy relationship with Himself. So that creature cannot find lasting satisfaction in anything below him, whatever resources he seems to have… And wine is only a picture of the best of earthly joys. They never satisfy. They are only emptiness and frustration.
- Look — the danger enters through the eye. Refuse the attractive look. What is bright and pleasant can ruin you as surely as violence itself.
- Linger — no other appetite brings so much shame and grief. It never stays at its first strength; it keeps demanding more, until the thirst takes over.
- Bite — the sting comes last, and that is the point. Judge the cup by its end: physical pain, and a conscience that turns on itself.
- Stupor — the pain stops teaching. The man barely feels it, goes back to the same folly, and sinks lower.
- Beyond — the same shape fits all self-will and every earthly joy. Sweet at the start, poison at the end, and never enough for a heart made for God.