Hast thou seen a man wise in his own eyes? There is more hope of a fool than of him.
Solomon does not compare a wise man with a fool here — he compares a fool with someone worse. Why does the harsher verdict fall on the man who is wise in his own eyes?
The phrase is not about brainpower. It is about where a man looks for wisdom.
The wise are lowly and dependent on the only wise God. The foolish man is wise in his own eyes; he who only adds conceit to folly is the most hopeless of men.
Self-confidence also costs a man the trust of others.
Whenever I see a man confident in himself (and of course we are all open to it, at least in some things), I have no confidence in him.
A fool has not shut the door; the conceited man has locked it from the inside.
Of all fools, the conceited fool is the worst. Pride makes a man incapable of receiving counsel.
The difference lies in the posture each one takes.
Verses 12 to 16 show a different kind of hostility to the truth: the proud, self-opinionated lazy man. A fool may be actively opposed to God. But this man takes a haughty, contemptuous attitude. He thinks himself wiser than everybody else, so he is indifferent to what is good and precious. He can tell anyone how everything should be done, but does nothing himself. A man of this kind is less likely to be converted than is a fool.
The most dangerous form of this self-wisdom is not crude arrogance but religion. A man can be religious and still be the man this proverb describes.
So it is with the man who, satisfied with himself, thinks he is secure because he relies on Christian ceremonies. Yet his heart may never have truly known one syllable of saving grace. He may never have felt his need of the precious blood of the Lamb of God, as a sinner who condemns himself and stands convicted by the truth.
Jesus drew the same portrait in a parable. One man is a Pharisee, a strict keeper of religious rules. The other is a tax collector, a man his neighbours despised.
Not that the Pharisee represents a man who denies God, or who is not a religious man. He is religious, but such religion is the most damning thing about him. The evil is not just his sins, but his religion. Nothing blinds him and other people more. Nothing dishonours God more. On the other hand, the poor tax collector has neither clear light nor peace. But at least he reaches the beginning of all true light: he has learned enough of God to condemn himself.
If conceit closes the mind, humility is what opens it.
The humble mind learns according to the power of God's truth. The self-satisfied man handles it like a weapon that wounds himself, and may wound others... So the humble soul prospers. He has God's own word, he feeds in these green pastures, and as this truth becomes part of him, he may become a blessing to others. The self-confident mind has never come to God in His word at all. If he had, he would have stopped being self-confident.
So God's deepest truths reach the lowly and pass the clever by.
Only he who owns his nothingness, who takes his place in weakness at His feet, and is like a baby, can receive these things. Never does the Lord entrust His secrets and His counsels to the wise and prudent.
- Hope — the proverb weighs hope, not brains. A fool can still be taught. The man sure he already knows cannot.
- Lock — conceit is what closes the door. Pride makes a man unable to receive counsel, so the very thing that would help him cannot get in.
- Posture — the fool may fight God openly. The self-satisfied man looks down on what is good and stays indifferent. That man is the harder one to reach.
- Disguise — the deadliest form wears religion. A man resting on ceremonies may never have felt his need of Christ, and his religion blinds him more than his sins.
- Key — the door opens from the side of humility. The self-confident mind has never come to God's word. The lowly soul learns, feeds, and becomes a blessing to others.
The sluggard saith, There is a fierce lion in the way; a lion is in the midst of the streets!
This proverb lets us listen in as a lazy man talks himself out of going outside. The question is not whether lions are real, but why this man keeps seeing them.
His will invents the excuse, not his eyes. One writer ties the cry to a job the man is avoiding:
But slothfulness is an evil to be dreaded, even if a man is far from a fool. And it is no uncommon thing for someone who is otherwise wise to imagine a danger where there is none. It is because he is a sluggard, and because he is dodging a duty that has to be done; he sees imminent danger, and cries, A lion in the road! A lion in the streets!
He is alert to one danger and blind to a worse one:
The sluggard can always spot difficulties standing in the way of doing good; but he does not see the tragic harm his laziness brings to his own soul. He has no faith to give him courage to overcome difficulties, whether real or imagined. If Satan (the lion) is in our way, the believer may count on the power of God to overcome this. But the slothful man gives up before he ever tries.
Kelly points to an enemy much closer than the street:
Again, the sluggard who likes to lie in bed says in his foolish imagination, A lion is outside. I shall be killed in the streets! He is blind to the worst enemy that besets his room and holds his soul in chains.
One writer sets three answers side by side. Only the last one reckons with God:
It is not the place of faith, nor its path, to deny that God's people meet difficulties. That would be the height of folly, since the difficulties are real. To deny them would be only recklessness, fanaticism, or fleshly enthusiasm. It is always good for people to know what they are doing, and not to rush blindly into a path they are not prepared for. An unbelieving sluggard may say, "There is a lion in the road!" A blind enthusiast may say, "There is no such thing." The true man of faith will say, "Though there were a thousand lions in the road, God can soon dispose of them."
The trouble with a good excuse is what it leaves out:
A difficulty may be real. But if you are on the path of God's will, it becomes an obstacle only through unbelief of heart. For faith counts on God and does what He wills, and difficulties are nothing before Him. Unbelief can always find excuses, and excuses that look well founded too. They have only this one great defect: they leave God out.
His fear does not match the facts. Safety belongs to the road he refuses to take:
Satan flourishes where the path of obedience is left. There is no lion in the path of obedience. It is the slothful man who says, There is a lion outside! I shall be killed in the streets! No one was ever killed in the street. He may have been attacked while he was on the path of disobedience. But as Bunyan pictures it in his story, the lions are chained so that they cannot reach the path of obedience. In God's path Satan can never attack. The path of obedience is the path of safety. Leave that path, and the lion is there.
When a Christian who was once eager starts finding new dangers, something inside has cooled:
Perhaps one of the earliest outward marks of inward decline in a Christian is the readiness to excuse oneself from devotedness and diligence in the Lord's service. He talks of difficulties nobody had heard of before, and he fears dangers too. So his plain neglect is both explained and excused… The human mind can easily imagine or invent obstacles to unselfish, God-honouring service. Give in to that, instead of holding to the truth at all costs, and a place of ease is soon found.
The answer to the lion is not more nerve. It is love with its eyes on Christ:
You cannot go out in the power of that love and see "a lion in the road" — no, for you see Christ beyond.
- The lion is manufactured. The sluggard imagines danger where there is none, because there is a duty he is dodging.
- The lion is misplaced. He fears the street and ignores the enemy in his own room, and the harm his laziness does to his own soul.
- The lion is not denied. Faith admits real difficulties, then says God can dispose of a thousand of them.
- The lion is on the road he refuses. There is no lion on the path of obedience — but leave that path, and the lion is there.
- The lion vanishes behind Christ. Excuses look sound but leave God out; love that sees Christ beyond the road cannot see a lion in it.
[As] the door turneth upon its hinges, so the sluggard upon his bed.
Proverbs 26:14 draws a man who moves all day and gets nowhere. The question is not whether the sluggard stirs — he does — but whether the turning ever takes him past the edge of his bed.
The hinge in this proverb is not a modern metal one.
The only hinges that have come down to us from ancient times are pivots sticking out above and below the door. The door turned on these. In old houses that still stand, with stone doors, the hinges are stone projections at the top and bottom of the doors.
The pivot lets the door move without going anywhere.
"As a door turns on its hinges, so does a sluggard on his bed." If this deserves strong blame in ordinary life, how much more in the things of God! The door swings, but only in the same place. So the sluggard never gets free from selfish, self-centred habit. He never acts in faith for God. The believer too must take care not to hide his light under a bed.
The sluggard's sin is not violence or dishonesty. It is smaller and duller than that.
And what could be more graphic of the sluggard on his bed of ease than the door turning on its hinges! The believer has his new nature from Him, apart from whom no sparrow falls, and who counts the very hairs of his own head. The sluggard gives in to the do-nothing spirit of self-pleasing in its lowest form.
Rest is not the problem. Rest in place of work is.
Ish-bosheth, the son of Saul, seems to have been a lazy man. At any rate he was resting in the middle of the day. And when he was lying on his bed at noon, two men rushed on him and assassinated him. If he had been up doing some useful work as a king's son, he might have lived longer. Sloth is a great enemy. The sluggard lies at his ease, turning first one way and then another like a door on its hinges. Where is the light? There is none shining. The lamp is cold and dead. The bed has put it out.
This proverb also fits a life that still looks active from the outside.
Perhaps one of the earliest outward marks of inward decline in a Christian is this. He is quick to excuse himself from devotion and diligence in the Lord's service. He speaks of difficulties nobody heard of before. He fears dangers too… A drowsy state has taken hold of them. Their spiritual movements are little more than mechanical, "as a door turns on its hinges." They grow as lazy about the welfare of their souls as a sleeping man.
Left alone, this condition does not stay mild.
Here is the truth. We stop enjoying the love of God to us in Christ. Christ Himself is no longer the Object and Hope of our hearts. Meditation on the word of God becomes tiresome, and private prayer fades… Then we begin to be slothful Christians. How serious is this state! For "slothfulness casts into a deep sleep, and an idle person will suffer hunger." Notice that it is a deep sleep — so deep that ordinary means fail completely to wake them.
The way out is not a mood but a decision, and it has a price attached.
Take this as a basic principle of your inner life. The Scriptures urge you toward practical virtues, and you gain them only at the cost of constant self-denial and labour. It is the diligent soul that is "made fat," as an older translation puts it. To make progress in the divine life, you must be ready to give up a good deal of ease, pleasure and worldly advantage.
So what keeps a believer moving?
Purpose, prayer, and progress go together; but let the believer only become purposeless and prayerless, then paralysis will soon creep over the spiritual system.
- Hinge. The ancient door turned on a pivot fixed top and bottom. It moved all day and went nowhere. That is the sluggard.
- Bed. The bed holds him, and it puts out his lamp. Sloth is not just wasted energy; comfort has killed the light.
- Excuse. The swing begins with excuses. Difficulties nobody mentioned before appear, and service turns mechanical.
- Sleep. It starts when Christ stops being the heart's object. It ends in a sleep that ordinary warnings cannot break.
- Purpose. Self-denial breaks the pivot. Purpose, prayer and progress travel together; drop them and paralysis creeps in.
The sluggard burieth his hand in the dish it wearieth him to bring it again to his mouth.
The proverb shows a man at his meal with food already in reach, beaten by the short distance from the bowl to his own mouth. Is this really about eating, or about a soul that has all it needs and still starves?
This is not a man at work but a man at his meal, and even that defeats him. One writer follows the hand into the dish, then asks who could ever count on such a man.
Another vivid likeness is of the sluggard when he rises to take his meals. In his listlessness he buries his hand, not in his bosom but in a dish; and he is weary of even lifting it to his mouth. From such a person, who could look for gratitude to God or kindness to a suffering fellow man?
The problem is not a shortage of food but unwillingness. That moves the proverb from the table to the Bible left unopened.
It is clear this is not meant merely literally, but who can doubt its spiritual meaning? Food is available for him: he knows it, and reaches out his hand, but only to trifle with it. He does not even have the energy to eat it. How well this describes the way many treat the food of the Word of God! They complacently think they know all about it, and have no concern about digesting it!
William Kelly sets the sluggard against the person who fears God, and follows him past the meal to his end.
The faith that fears Jehovah is earnest. The sluggard, by contrast, is so absorbed in himself that he will not so much as raise his hand from the dish to his mouth. So he lives, dies, and perishes.
Nobody announces that they have stopped caring. First comes a reason: a hardship never mentioned before, or a danger just discovered. One writer names what lies underneath such excuses.
Perhaps one of the earliest outward marks of inward decline in a Christian is the readiness to excuse yourself from devotion and diligence in the Lord's service. People speak of difficulties they never mentioned before, and of dangers they fear, so their plain neglect is both explained and excused… We can lose the authority of the Word on our conscience — the Word that says it has been granted to us, for the sake of Christ, not only to believe in Him but also to suffer for His sake. Then we easily think of our present advantage and personal ease in this passing scene. We drift away from wisdom's ways of pleasantness and peace, and become weak and helpless in divine things… Such people have not only left their first love. They turn away from those who stand for God's truth at all costs. A drowsy state has taken hold of them, so that their spiritual movements are little more than mechanical.
The hand does not stop halfway all at once. Another writer draws the same man as a young Christian, and shows how ordinary the slide looks from the inside.
I went to the house of young Mr. Slothful. His Bible was completely hidden by many other books, with thick dust over its back and sides. His regular habits of daily prayer were quite broken down… Young Mr. Slothful had been indulging in a little more sleep in the mornings, a little slackening off with the usual duties, a little more self-ease in everything. And now spiritual poverty has come upon him like a robber… First he simply left off the regular habit for once. Then he did the same thing again, and again, and each gap between the times was shorter, until now the well-ordered Christian life has become a disorderly wilderness of evil weeds.
The cure is not more food but the effort to take it. One writer points back to Israel in the desert. Bread — manna — lay on the ground each morning, and they had to gather it before sunrise.
The Israelite in the desert had to rise early to get the manna while it was still morning, or go hungry. Christians must show the same diligence in feeding their souls. They are not allowed to eat the bread of idleness and prosper in their souls at the same time.
- Provision. The dish is full and within reach; this man's trouble is never a shortage of food, and neither is ours.
- Paralysis. The hand goes in and stops. He knows the Word, reaches for it, trifles with it, and never digests it.
- Excuse. Before the hand stalls, the mouth explains. New dangers appear, and ease passes for wisdom.
- Poverty. A little more sleep, a little more self-ease, each gap shorter than the last. The well-ordered life becomes a field of weeds, and the sluggard so lives, dies, and perishes.
- Diligence. Israel gathered manna before sunrise; no one eats the bread of idleness and prospers in soul at the same time.
A sluggard is wiser in his own eyes than seven [men] that answer discreetly.
Proverbs 26 gathers a small gallery of the lazy man — inventing lions in the street, rolling on his bed like a door on its hinges, too tired to lift food to his mouth — and this verse is where the series ends. The surprise is that the man who does least thinks most highly of his own judgment.
One writer treats verses 12 to 16 as a single unit and shows the mood running through it:
"Do you see a man who is wise in his own eyes? There is more hope for a fool than for him." A fool may openly fight against God. But the sluggard takes a proud, scornful attitude. He counts himself wiser than everybody else, and so he cares nothing for what is good and precious. He can tell you how everything ought to be done, but he does nothing himself. A man like this is less likely to be converted than a fool is.
The self-flattery is not a side effect of laziness. It protects the laziness. A man who already knows everything has no reason to try.
The sluggard, like the fool, is certainly wise in his own eyes. He even counts himself wiser than seven men who answer with discretion. He is so satisfied with himself that he avoids any effort to learn. Learning is all very well for other men, but he does not need it! He is a genius, and can afford his never-failing nap. So self-conceit flatters those who dislike work. They want a position that belongs only to those who do not dodge hard work — and hard work is a healthy discipline for man as he is. But their conceit usually ends in their own ruin, and in trouble for those close to them.
The verse does not weigh the sluggard against one rival opinion. It sets him against a whole body of sound judgment — and he still comes out on top, in his own estimate.
Seven men may be careful, sensible and honourable, and may give a united judgment on a matter. But the sluggard rejects their judgment with contempt. His only basis is his own self-centred opinion. He thinks wisdom belongs to him alone. May we who are Christians be careful that we do not in any measure resemble such egotists.
The same writer sees this self-satisfaction take a religious form:
How easily we can see a fat, lazy, comfortable religion here. It turns God's grace into loose living. There is no effort of soul, no earnest feeding on the Word of God — only self-satisfied boasting: "I am rich, I have prospered, and I need nothing." … The boaster is not a worker: how much better to work, and not boast!
The wise man is the reverse: he does not trust his own eyes. One writer adds that even asking for advice can be a dodge:
There is nothing a man dislikes more than thinking badly of himself, unless it is believing good of God. Truly the way of a fool is right in his own eyes. The wise man distrusts himself and listens to counsel. He does not cheat God and his conscience by asking advice from the weak and easy-going. He asks the godly.
Humility of this kind is the Spirit's work, and it shows in how a person treats those who can help:
The humble are glad when someone helps them in their difficulties. They do not run down those who see more clearly than they do… The proud spirit of independence may aim high, but there are still leaders and guides among God's people. No one can ignore or slight them without loss to himself. The Holy Spirit does not lead to self-conceit, but to genuine humility and a warm value for fellowship.
The same laziness has a spiritual form. One writer names its cost:
It is the diligent soul that is "richly supplied." You must be ready to give up a good deal of ease, pleasure and worldly advantage to make progress in the divine life. The spiritual sluggard avoids all this for the sake of his own comfort. But his laziness has a result: the works of the flesh choke the fruit of the Spirit in him.
- The link. Laziness and self-conceit are one thing. The sluggard is so pleased with himself that he sees no need to learn.
- The insulation. Conceit is the wall that keeps effort out. He can tell everyone how to do the job, and does nothing himself.
- The scale. He is not outvoted by one adviser but by seven sound ones, and rejects them all on the sole basis of his own opinion.
- The reversal. The wise man distrusts himself and listens. He seeks counsel from the godly, not from the easy-going who will agree with him.
- The test. The Spirit never produces self-conceit. He produces humility and a real value for the help of others. Measure yourself there.