The foolish woman is clamorous; she is stupid, and knoweth nothing.
Proverbs 9 stages a contest. Two women call out in the same city, and both aim at the same passers-by. Verse 13 introduces the second hostess. Which invitation will you accept?
The opening chapters of Proverbs put several women before the reader. They have much in common:
Three things are common to them all — they each have something to say; they each have something to offer; they each make an appeal to those who are simple. So it becomes a question for each one of us: to whom shall I listen? At whose table shall I feed? In which company shall I move? Each one extends an invitation to enter her dwelling and to share in everything found there.
Another writer reads the chapter as a picture of two forces at work in every life:
I read Proverbs 9 because it sets before us the two great principles at work all around us — wisdom and folly. Every one of us is more or less under the power of one or the other. Folly is the path that pleases the flesh, where people gratify and indulge their natural desires. It is the path of self-will and disobedience. The foolish woman is the personification of it.
The verse spends three short phrases on her, and each one strips something away. Older translations call her "clamorous" and "simple." That is the wording the commentators use.
She is clamorous, her words noisy and empty. She is simple, in the sense of ignorant: true knowledge is foreign to her. She sits in lazy self-indulgence at the door of her house. Or she sits on a seat in some prominent place in the city, calling to those who pass by. She has no interest in maintaining a respectable household, but the opposite.
The word translated "foolish" also sets her apart from the other tempting woman in these chapters:
The text uses two words for the strange woman: one means "foreigner," the other means "profane." The word translated here as "foolish" means "stupid." So profanity marks the one woman, and stupidity marks the foolish woman.
Set beside Wisdom, who builds and spreads a table, folly's noise covers a bare cupboard:
Wisdom pleads for Jehovah and therefore in the true interests of man, no less than for the divine glory. The foolish woman cares only about indulging sinful pleasure, whatever the consequences... Not that wisdom is "clamorous" as folly is; but she does cry out and lift her voice, for understanding is hers... What house had she built? No pillars had she hewn out. She had neither beasts to kill, nor had she mingled wine, nor furnished her table.
Still, she makes claims for herself, and she can look impressive:
Whatever her pretensions to wisdom may be, this is God's account of her. There may be a great appearance of understanding about her, and great ability to search out mysterious things and bring secrets to light. But she is without the knowledge of God. Her very wisdom is her folly. She has cast off God, so she thinks to make up for it by clothing herself with the glory of the world and by gratifying her lusts.
Her call goes out to people who are keeping to the road:
The foolish woman in particular addresses her call to those who pass by, who go straight on their ways. What malicious pleasure to lead such people astray!
The two invitations do not land the same way on the human heart:
The appeal of wisdom needs grace to make it welcome. Her rival's invitation suits the dark heart of man exactly as he is. He enjoys what is forbidden, what he can only snatch by cunning. He distrusts a free gift, and cannot understand the greatest good as a matter of grace.
Commentators differ on what she stands for. Davison sees "a world system where divine wisdom is unknown, and where men are at open enmity with God." Boyd sees "the corrupt religious system around us."
- Loud — Her first mark is volume. Her words are noisy and empty, and noise is what she has instead of substance.
- Empty — She built no house, hewed no pillars, killed no beasts, mingled no wine. She calls people to a table she never furnished.
- Ignorant — She can look full of understanding, yet she does not know God. Her wisdom is itself her folly.
- Targeted — She calls to people keeping straight on their way, and takes malicious pleasure in turning them aside.
- Chosen — Both women call the same "simple" passer-by. So the chapter comes down to one question: whose voice will you follow, and at whose table will you eat?
And she sitteth at the entry of her house, on a seat in the high places of the city,
Wisdom has built her house, set her table and sent out her invitation. Now a rival takes up position on the same street. She calls the same passers-by with almost the same words.
The folly of this woman is not low intelligence. It is indifference to God, and one commentator names who keeps it alive.
We must not think that this folly means a weak mind. It is the absence of care or thought, of heart or conscience, toward God — and Satan encourages it in darkened man. "The fool says in his heart, 'There is no God,'" and so he neither seeks nor calls on Him.
She does not walk, work, or build. She sits — and she picks a spot where everyone can see her.
She sits in lazy self-indulgence at the door of her house, or on a seat in some prominent place in the city. From there she calls to those who pass by (vv. 14-15). She has no interest in maintaining a reputable household, but the opposite.
Her seat is a throne. That decides what happens to anyone who accepts her invitation.
These are the appeals of evil and of good. But genuine love acts differently. It does not invite us to selfish enjoyment. Wisdom prepares, and sends out to invite to blessing. The "clamorous woman" sits "on a throne, at the door of her house," and makes the one who comes the slave of her own lusts.
Set the two women side by side. One has real resources to give. The other has nothing behind her call.
Wisdom is not "clamorous" as folly is. But she does cry out and lift up her voice. Understanding is hers, and she has immense value to pass on from God and for Him, and no less to man. She does not sit on a seat or throne at the door of her house. Even more than folly, she stands at the top of the high places by the way — a cheerful giver who knows the ample resources for all who come. Not so the foolish woman. What house had she built? She had cut out no pillars. She had no animals to kill, no wine mixed, no table furnished.
There is a kind of wisdom she can still offer. One writer names it from the letter of James.
While this woman appeals to the simple ones, she has not true wisdom to offer them... What then has this foolish woman to offer? Is it wisdom to the simple ones whom she calls? If so, it can only be the wisdom which James in his letter warns us to avoid. "This is not the wisdom that comes down from above, but is earthly, unspiritual, demonic," James 3:15.
She aims her invitation at people who are already walking the right road. That choice of target is the sinister part.
Clamorous, simple, and ignorant! Who would listen to her? But she will allure those who are not entirely careless. She calls those who pass by, going straight on their ways. Not the indifferent. She can let them pass on. They go on to judgment without her aid. She appeals to those who seek a plain path.
Wisdom sent helpers out through the city. Folly has none, so she does her own calling.
Wisdom had her servant girls to send out, and she cried out herself, because she was eager to win people for the LORD and to bring His warning; and she sought the highest places of the city. Folly had no such servants, and none of wisdom's generous provision either... Yet both are pictured making their appeal in strikingly similar words — but how opposite their wish and aim! "Whoever is simple, let him turn in here" (vv. 4 and 16). And notice that the foolish woman in particular calls to those who pass by, who go straight on their ways. What malicious pleasure to lead such people astray!
One writer reads this woman as a picture of the world itself.
We believe this "foolish woman" describes a world system where God's wisdom is unknown, and where people are openly hostile to God.
So what keeps a traveller safe?
If travellers who go straight on their ways want to keep going that way, they will need to close their ears to this woman's appeal. So they refuse to have fellowship with the unfruitful works of darkness.
- Seated. Folly builds nothing and prepares nothing. She takes a seat in full view and lets the traffic come to her.
- Copied. Her words nearly match wisdom's invitation. But behind them is no house, no pillar, no table set — only earthly, unspiritual, demonic wisdom.
- Targeted. She ignores the careless. She calls the person already walking straight, because leading them astray is her pleasure.
- Enthroned. Her seat is a throne: whoever turns in does not become her guest but her slave.
- Passed. The one defence is not debate but movement — keep going straight on, and close your ears.
to call passers-by who go right on their ways
Proverbs 9 sets two invitations side by side, and both women call from the same street corner. Folly sits in public and calls out to travellers who are already walking straight — what does she want, and what can she give them?
She has picked a spot where the whole city walks past, and she stays in it.
She sits in lazy self-indulgence at the door of her house, or on a seat in some public place in the city. From there she calls to those who pass by. She has no interest in keeping a respectable home — the opposite is true.
So why does she call at all? Not for the good of the people she calls.
This is not the activity of love which seeks the good of those who are ignorant of good. She is loud, sitting in the high places, at the door of her house. She seeks to turn aside those who go straight on their way. She lures those who have no understanding into the paths of deceit and sin. And they do not know that her guests are the victims of death.
Her words are nearly identical to Wisdom's — the same address to the simple, the same high place in the city. What she lacks is anything to serve.
What house had she built? She had cut out no pillars. She had no animals to kill, she had mixed no wine, and she had set no table. Wisdom did all this with a heart that delights in good and in doing good, where the need was great, the dangers endless, and the evil beyond measure.
Wisdom sends out helpers with her call. Folly has none, though the two calls sound alike.
Wisdom had her servant girls to send out, and she called out herself. She was in earnest to win people for Jehovah and to give His warning, and she sought the highest places of the city. Folly had no such servants... Yet both make their appeal in words that sound very much alike. How opposite their wish and aim!
The phrase "who are going straight on their way" is the sharp point of the verse. She is not fishing among the already lost.
Clamorous, simple, and ignorant! Who would listen to her? But she will lure those who are not completely careless. She calls passers-by who go right on their ways. Not the indifferent. She can let them pass on. They go on to judgment without her aid. She appeals to those who seek a plain path.
Her choice of target is malice, not need.
It is worth noting that the foolish woman in particular sends her call to those who pass by, who go straight on their way. What malicious pleasure to lead such people astray!
If she calls people off a good road, she must be offering something better. She is not.
We note here that while this woman appeals to the simple ones, she has not true wisdom to offer them... "This wisdom does not come down from above, but is earthly, unspiritual, demonic" (James 3:15). Notice again, this woman calls to those who go straight on their way... What does she offer? "Stolen waters and the bread of secrecy." She may say they are "sweet... and pleasant." But anyone who takes up her invitation will find that her sweets turn bitter.
A free gift is the problem for a heart that prefers what it has to steal.
But wisdom's appeal needs grace before a man will welcome it. Her rival's invitation suits the dark heart of man just as he is. He enjoys what is forbidden, what he can only grab by trickery or cunning. He distrusts what is given free of charge, and cannot understand the greatest good as a gift of grace.
Since her method is a voice, the defence is the ear.
Do those travellers who go straight on their way want to keep going straight on their way? Then they will need to close their ears to this woman's appeal. That means they refuse to have fellowship with the unfruitful works of darkness.
- Seat. Folly does not come looking for you. She sits in public on the busiest road, and your own route brings you past her door.
- Copy. Her call sounds almost like Wisdom's. But she built no house, cut no pillars, killed no animals, mixed no wine. The invitation is real; the table is empty.
- Target. She lets the indifferent walk by; they reach judgment without her help. She aims at the person now walking a plain path.
- Bait. She serves stolen water and secret bread. It tastes sweet only because it is forbidden. The human heart trusts a stolen pleasure more than a free gift.
- Ear. The traveller who keeps going straight is the one who refuses to listen. Those who turned in never knew that her guests are victims of death.
Whoso is simple, let him turn in hither. And to him that is void of understanding she saith,
Twice in Proverbs 9 a voice cries out to the same people with the same words — once from Wisdom, once from the foolish woman. So how do you tell a saving call from a deadly one when the words are the same?
This verse repeats the words of verse 4. One writer weighs both the likeness and the people it is aimed at.
Yet both make their appeal in words that closely resemble each other, though their wish and aim are opposite! "Whoever is simple, let him turn in here!" (vv. 4 and 16). Note that the foolish woman in particular aims her call at those who pass by, who go straight on their way. What malicious pleasure to lead such astray!
The people already careless are not her concern. She is after the ones still walking a straight line.
Loud, simple, and ignorant! Who would listen to her? But she will lure those who are not completely careless. Not the indifferent. She can let them pass on. They go on to judgment without her aid. She appeals to those who seek a plain path.
Wisdom's call rests on a table already laid. Behind this call there is nothing at all.
What house had she built? No pillars had she hewn out. She had no animals to kill. She had mixed no wine and set no table. Wisdom did all that, with a heart that delights in good and in doing good where need is great, dangers endless, and evil beyond measure.
The two invitations also differ in who benefits. One gives; the other takes.
These are the appeals of evil and of good. But genuine love acts differently: it does not invite us to selfish enjoyment. Wisdom prepares, and sends out to invite people to blessing. The loud woman sits on a throne at the door of her house, and makes whoever comes to her the slave of her own lusts.
Her next line promises stolen water and secret bread. It appeals more than Wisdom's open generosity does, and the reason lies in the hearer.
All was open, sound, holy, and unselfish on wisdom's part. How sinister the speech of the foolish woman! "Stolen water is sweet, and bread eaten in secret is pleasant." But wisdom's appeal needs grace before a man will welcome it. Her rival's invitation suits the dark heart of man just as he is. He enjoys what is forbidden, and what can only be snatched by trickery or cunning. He is suspicious of what is given freely. He cannot understand the greatest good coming as a matter of grace.
She calls the simple, but she has no wisdom to give them — only a counterfeit.
We note here that while this woman appeals to the simple ones, she has not true wisdom to offer them. What does she have to offer? If it is wisdom at all, it can only be the wisdom that James in his letter warns us to avoid: "This is not the wisdom that comes down from above, but is earthly, unspiritual, demonic," James 3:15. She calls people to stolen water and bread eaten in secret. She may say they are "sweet… and pleasant," but whoever yields to her invitation will prove that her sweets are bitter-sweets.
Whatever she claims for herself, God's account of her is blunt.
This is the foolish woman — loud, simple, and ignorant. Whatever her claims to wisdom may be, this is God's account of her. She may look full of understanding. She may be very able to search out mysteries and bring secrets to light. But she does not know God. Her very wisdom is her folly. Having cast off God, she thinks to make up for it by dressing herself in the glory of the world and by indulging her lusts.
Two verses later the chapter pulls the curtain back on her house.
How solemn when the curtain is drawn back enough to let us see the dread reality! "But he does not know that the dead are there, that her guests are in the depths of Sheol." So chapter 9 ends with a darker view than the Old Testament usually gives. It shows what happens to those who listen to the foolish woman and follow her tempting words. What a contrast with leaving off folly and going on the way of intelligence!
- Same call. Folly uses Wisdom's own words. The invitation sounds the same; the wish and aim behind it are opposite.
- Same target. She lets the indifferent pass — they reach judgment without her help. She calls those walking straight on their way.
- Empty table. Wisdom built a house, set a table and mixed the wine. Folly prepared nothing, and makes whoever comes the slave of her lusts.
- Ready appetite. Her offer of stolen water fits the human heart as it is. Man enjoys what is forbidden and distrusts what is free. So Wisdom's call needs grace to be welcome.
- Same door, different room. What she serves as sweet turns bitter, and the guests reclining in her house are already among the dead.
Stolen waters are sweet, and the bread of secrecy is pleasant.
Folly is pictured here as a woman calling from her doorway, and this line is her whole sales pitch. Two questions follow: who is speaking, and why does her offer work on people who were walking straight ahead?
The Bible records these words, but it does not recommend them. One writer notes how often people repeat the line as though God said it:
How often we hear people claim that the Bible says, "Stolen water is sweet"! The truth is far from that: Scripture says a wicked woman said it.
And her "folly" is not a weak mind:
We must not think that the folly here means a weak mind. It is the absence of care or thought, of heart or conscience, toward God — and Satan encourages this in people who are in the dark.
Wisdom's invitation earlier in the chapter is open and generous. Folly offers stolen water. The strange thing is which offer the human heart prefers:
Everything on wisdom's side was open, sound, holy, and unselfish. How sinister the speech of the foolish woman! "Stolen water is sweet, and bread eaten in secret is pleasant." Wisdom's appeal needs grace before anyone finds it attractive. Her rival's invitation fits the dark heart of man exactly as he is. He enjoys what is forbidden, and what can only be snatched by trickery. He distrusts what is given free, and cannot understand the greatest good as a gift of grace.
Another writer sees the same instinct in the sin of Amnon, a king's son who took what was forbidden him:
The fence around what he wanted was low enough to be jumped, and that may have encouraged him. A rule broken through has a charm of its own.
She does not call to everyone. She picks her hearers:
Loud, simple, and ignorant! Who would listen to her? Yet she draws in those who are not completely careless. She calls to passers-by who go straight on their way. Not the indifferent. She can let them walk on. They go on to judgment without her help. She appeals to those who want a plain path.
The pull of the forbidden is not only about obvious vice. One writer applies the verse to priests who worshipped with fire God had not commanded:
Man has always shown himself unwilling to walk the narrow path of strict obedience to the plain word of God. The side path has always seemed to hold charms the poor human heart cannot resist. "Stolen water is sweet, and bread eaten in secret is pleasant."
Her line is followed by a verse she never quotes:
She may call them "sweet … and pleasant," but anyone who gives in to her invitation will find that her sweets are bitter-sweets… Keeping company with the system this foolish woman pictures brings death to both body and soul. This world carries on with the secret things of darkness and the pleasures of sin for a season, but death and destruction wait for it.
The guest never hears the price list at the door:
Of course, this is an appeal only to sinful flesh. Those who love folly accept it without realizing that "the dead are there, that her guests are in the depths of hell." Sadly, how many wake up too late!
- Quoted, not endorsed. The Bible records this line as a wicked woman's sales pitch, not as God's verdict. It reports her words to expose them.
- Sweetness is the bait. The claim is true only about the taste. She says nothing about the dead in her house or the guests in the depths.
- Folly is not stupidity. The fault is the absence of care, heart or conscience toward God. A clever person can be her guest.
- Stolen beats free. The heart enjoys what is forbidden and distrusts what is free. That is why wisdom's open table needs grace before anyone finds it appealing.
- She aims at the steady. Those already careless walk to judgment without her help. She calls to the one going straight on his way. The same pull draws people off the plain word of God into the side path.
But he knoweth not that the dead are there; [that] her guests are in the depths of Sheol.
Chapter 9 ends by pulling back a curtain: the guest at Folly's table cannot see who else is in the room. Everything turns on one phrase — "he does not know" — and on knowing where a road ends before walking it.
One writer notes how rare such a sight is in the Old Testament. He sets it beside the picture of wisdom in the chapter before:
How solemn when the curtain is drawn back enough to let us see the dread reality! "But he does not know that the dead (or departed, the shades) are there, that her guests are in the depths of Sheol." In the chapter before, the language about wisdom rose into a living and glorious person — an incomparable object of delight to Jehovah, with no less incomparable delight of love going out to the sons of men. In the same way, chapter 9 ends with a view of the fate that falls on those who lend their ear and follow the tempting words of the foolish woman. It is more awful than anything usual in the Old Testament. What a contrast with leaving off folly and going in the way of intelligence!
Folly's invitation is not attractive by accident. It fits what the human heart already prefers. The same heart distrusts anything offered for nothing.
All was open, sound, holy and unselfish on wisdom's part. How sinister the speech of the foolish woman! "Stolen water is sweet, and bread eaten in secret is pleasant." But wisdom's appeal needs grace before a person will welcome it. Her rival's invitation suits the dark heart of man exactly as he is. He enjoys what is forbidden, what he can only snatch by cunning. He suspects a free gift. He cannot understand the greatest good as a matter of grace.
Folly advertises the taste. She says nothing about the end.
She may say they are "sweet… and pleasant." But whoever gives in to her invitation will find that her sweets are bitter-sweets… This world goes on with the secret things of darkness and the pleasures of sin for a season. But death and destruction await it at the end.
One writer sums the foolish woman up in a phrase: she is "the world with its lusts" (Arno Clemens Gaebelein).
She does not call to everyone. Her target is the traveller walking straight on his way, and that changes who is in danger.
Loud, simple and ignorant! Who would listen to her? But she will lure those who are not entirely careless. She calls to travellers who go straight on their ways. Not the indifferent — she can let them pass on; they go on to judgment without her help. She appeals to those who are looking for a plain path… She encourages people to indulge their sinful desires. Her victim "does not know that the dead are there, that her guests are in the depths of Sheol."
The same lure works in religion too. One writer applies verse 17 to self-will in worship: "Man has always shown himself unwilling to walk in the narrow path of strict adherence to the plain word of God. The by-path has always seemed to hold irresistible charm for the poor human heart" (C. H. Mackintosh).
Sheol is the Old Testament word for the place of the dead. Kelly calls those in it "the departed, the shades." One writer argues that the word cannot mean only a burial plot:
Then we have such expressions as the "depths of sheol" (Prov. 9:18), "the lowest sheol" (Ps. 86:13; Deut. 32:22) — the last passage says God's wrath burns to it — "though they dig into sheol" (Amos 9:2), which show that the grave cannot be the whole matter there. So even in sheol (Ps. 139:8) there is no escape from the presence of God: "If I make my bed in Sheol, you are there!" Can that be nothing at all?
The verse names guests, so the question is whose table you sit at. One writer puts it to the reader:
Where will you spend eternity? It must be with the one whose "guests are in the depths of Sheol," or with God, who now again invites you to be His guest in heavenly glory. Again He calls; will you again refuse?
- Ignorance — The whole tragedy is in one phrase: he does not know. The menu is on show; the guest list is not.
- Appetite — What is stolen and secret appeals to the heart as it is. The same heart distrusts a free gift. Grace has to make wisdom's invitation welcome.
- Aim — She calls to people already walking straight ahead, not to the careless. The steady traveller is the target.
- Depth — "The depths of Sheol" reaches past the grave. Even there God is present. This is no picture of nothing at all.
- Choice — Two voices, two houses, two guest lists. You will be someone's guest. The verse tells you who is already seated at the wrong table.