The way of an eagle in the heavens, the way of a serpent upon a rock, the way of a ship in the midst of the sea, and the way of a man with a maid.
Agur, the writer of this chapter, ends his list of wonders with what he cannot explain. He names four movements he can watch but never trace. Each one leaves no track behind it. The fourth — the way of a man with a virgin — moves the mystery from the natural world into the human heart.
The verse sits inside a pattern that runs through the whole chapter.
Proverbs 30 has a heading, "The words of Agur, the son of Jakeh." There are six sets of four things... four things that are impossible to understand (30:18-19)...
Agur's own account of himself shows where his wisdom comes from.
Human education had not given him wisdom in divine things. Nor did he have the knowledge of the holy: this was not a matter of human intuition either. Yet, in what follows, the wisdom of Agur's words is most remarkable. But it is higher than human. It is a revelation from God, who uses this instrument to declare things of the greatest value for the blessing of souls.
Air, rock and sea are three different worlds, yet the same thing baffles the observer in each.
All of these have one thing in common: there is no set pattern, and their movements are unpredictable. Is not all of this a reflection of the way of mankind during his short time of testing here? "The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately sick; who can understand it?"
Nothing under the eagle holds it up, and nothing in its flight tells you where it is going next.
The first sphere is mysterious and wonderful. It gives the eagle no visible support, yet the eagle soars high into the heavens. It dives and climbs, spirals and floats, in a way that awakens the wonder of every interested observer. Yet all the while the eagle may be watching for a victim, on which he falls with sudden swiftness from the sky. What a picture of the judgment of God, ready to fall on the world, by whatever means it may please Him.
The same flight has been read in another direction — as a picture of truth that comes from above rather than judgment falling from above.
It is just "the way of the eagle in the air" of which the writer of Proverbs speaks once more, as one of the "things too wonderful for him" (Prov. 30:19). It is the soaring character of truth in John that is pointed out to us here: truth that penetrates regions quite outside human knowledge.
The serpent leaves nothing behind on the rock, yet the way it moves still tells you what it is.
The rock is solid, a type of Christ as the eternal God, the stable Rock of Ages. The serpent of course makes no impression on the rock, yet the rock displays its twisting, aimless, unreasoning character. What is all Satan's activity compared to the blessed Rock of Ages? How tragic too that crowds of people follow the same crooked course, as though lost in a hopeless maze. All the while, salvation in Christ is near them, if only they would receive Him.
A ship in open water seems to be pushed everywhere and to arrive nowhere.
The sea is the very picture of instability, a type of the nations in constant unrest and turmoil. He is thinking of a small sailing ship. The waves toss it in every direction, and you can hardly see it making progress toward a definite end. Do we not also marvel today at Israel? The angry nations toss and threaten her, yet she still rises above the waves, upheld as though by an invisible hand. Yet only the coming of the Lord Jesus will quiet the waves and bring Israel's ship to shore.
The fourth wonder is the one every generation still tries to solve.
Even "the way of a man with a virgin" is beyond Agur's knowledge. Psychologists may try to explain the motives and reasoning behind men's actions, but at best these are only guesses. Man does not know his own heart well enough to give an honest explanation of his actions. Only God knows exactly the thoughts, motives and reasonings of man that lie behind his strange ways. When a man's heart is involved, it is useless to expect cool, calculating wisdom to dictate his actions... How much better to leave these things as matters of wonder, which human wisdom cannot explain.
Beneath the human picture lies a greater love that also refuses analysis.
Can human reason understand His marvellous ways of love and grace? He gave Himself for so unworthy an object. He nourishes and cherishes her with tenderest concern. He sanctifies and cleanses her by the washing of water with the Word, so that He may present her to Himself (Eph. 5:25-29). We shall never fathom all that this involves, but it will hold our wondering adoration for eternity.
- Confession. Agur admits he never learned wisdom; what follows is a revelation from God, not the fruit of education.
- Pattern. The chapter groups its sayings in six sets of four; this verse holds the four that no one can understand.
- No track. Air, rock and sea keep no mark. There is no set pattern, and the movements are unpredictable.
- Mirror. Man's own way is the same: the eagle's sudden drop, the serpent's aimless twisting, the ship's tossing, and a heart no one can understand.
- Wonder. What wisdom cannot explain calls for adoration, not analysis — above all the love of Christ for His bride, which will hold us for eternity.
Such is the way of an adulterous woman she eateth, and wipeth her mouth, and saith, I have done no wickedness.
This proverb closes a riddle. The verses before it list wonders no one can explain, and then comes a woman who sins, cleans up, and says she has done nothing.
Chapter 30 works in groups of four sayings.
Verse 20 closes the group of things too wonderful to explain. One writer names the lesson of each group:
If verses 15 to 17 showed us no satisfaction, and verses 18 to 20 no explanation, then these verses teach the clear lesson of no rest.
The woman comes last in that group. Her sin leaves no trace behind it, and she is counting on that.
She treats sin the way a person treats a meal: appetite, then a napkin, then business as usual.
A corrupt nature is so corrupt that it is insensible to its corruption. It will satisfy its own desires ("eat"), wipe away the evidence of it, and justify itself. Indeed, man can go to the grossest excesses of evil, and still insist there is nothing really wrong in what he does. And yet only an honest confession of his guilt would make him a candidate for the forgiving grace of God. But Israel has been an unfaithful wife, and the false church is of course glaringly guilty of this corruption.
So she stands for more than one sin. She pictures a nature that cannot feel its own state, and God's people when they are unfaithful to Him and will not admit it.
The shocking part of the verse is not the sin but the sentence that follows it. Nothing is confessed; life simply carries on.
Often, without knowing it, people go to meet God with their sin still on them. Many walk through this life toward God and His judgment, and fear nothing. What does such ease say, except that the conscience is not awakened — it is even hardened — in spite of the agony of Jesus, in spite of the sufferings of Jesus, and in spite of the cup He had to drink because of sin?
This deadness can also be learned. Hearing the truth often is no protection:
There is another kind of hard conscience, and it is too common in our land, which is favoured with the truth of the gospel. Some people have often heard the truth, and have as often played with it. They stop feeling its thunder, like workmen who go deaf because hammers ring on iron around them all day.
One writer sees this verse acted out at the cross. Joseph, betrayed by his own brothers, is the earlier picture:
The presence of Joseph only serves to reveal the evil of his brothers, just as the cross becomes the occasion to expose the depth of corruption in the heart of man. The leaders of Israel hand over the true Passover Lamb to death. Then they sit down calmly to eat the Passover meal. They are an evil and adulterous generation, like the adulterous woman of Proverbs, of whom it is written, "she eats and wipes her mouth and says, 'I have done no wrong.'"
Proverbs itself gives the way out. One writer sets it against the way people talk about sin today:
"Whoever conceals his transgressions will not prosper, but he who confesses and forsakes them will obtain mercy." Every attempt to cover up sin fails. How much of this goes on today — not just the covering of single sins, but the denial of sin itself. Modern theology uses clever arguments that try to make sin into something else. It speaks of sin as a mere defect, as if it were a taint in the blood — an inherited and therefore unavoidable weakness, something man is not responsible for.
The two coverings are not the same:
Man thinks of a covering as concealment. God's covering is atonement.
- Eats — sin here is an appetite fed: casual, routine, then done with.
- Wipes — the napkin hides the evidence. Commentators see a corrupt nature justifying itself.
- Denies — she claims innocence. Such a conscience is not awake; it can face God's judgment and fear nothing.
- Repeats — hardness can be learned. Those who hear the truth and play with it grow deaf, like workmen beside ringing hammers.
- Confesses — the way out runs the other direction. Man covers sin to hide it; God covers it by atonement.