Protected by Wisdom (The Protection of Proverbs #2)

I have to start by telling you that you are ignorant.

I realize there’s probably an imaginary handbook of public speaking where rule 8.6 says don’t insult your audience. But I’m not insulting you.

If you’re working from the standard dictionary definition — lacking knowledge or awareness, uneducated, unsophisticated — then yes, I can see why that might sting.

But what you may not realize is that the root of ignorant is the same root as ignore.

And you know what “ignore” means: to refuse to take notice of something, to disregard it intentionally. So when you ignore something, you are being intentionally ignorant of it — so that you can give your attention to something better.

Sometimes Ignorance Is Exactly Right

Imagine you’re at work — or at school, and yes kids, I know you just got out, but stay with me, this is only a mental exercise.

Two coworkers or classmates start up the world’s most boring conversation right next to your desk. Fishing lures. Comic books. The relative merits of different concrete mixes. Whatever the single dullest possible topic is — that’s what they’re discussing, loudly, while you’re trying to work.

It’s boring and distracting. You have a deadline. So what do you have to do? Ignore them. You have to be deliberately ignorant that the conversation is even happening.

There are times when ignorance is a genuinely good thing — because if you weren’t ignorant of certain things at certain moments, your brain would overload. There is so much stimuli constantly arriving from around you and within you that your brain cannot possibly process all of it. So it intentionally ignores a great deal.

For example: right now your brain was ignoring the fact that your shirt tag is scratching your back. I’ve just ruined that for you, and you’ll notice it for the rest of this message. You were probably ignoring the sound of the fans running, or the air conditioner, until I mentioned it. If you’re at home, maybe you’re ignoring the washing machine so you can focus on this. If you’re out walking or biking and listening, you’re ignoring a great deal in order to concentrate — though please stay safe out there.

You are constantly ignoring things. And ignoring the right things leads somewhere good.

What Solomon Wants You to Ignore

That’s exactly what we’re going to see in Proverbs today. Solomon wants you to ignore certain things — things this world very much does not want you to ignore — so that you can stop ignoring wisdom and give it your full attention.

Because refusing to be ignorant of wisdom’s ways will protect you. We’re going to see that it protects you from simple-mindedness, from destruction, and — most importantly — from yourself.

And to get this across, Solomon is going to mock us. He’s going to use poetry. He’s going to employ personification. It is quite a chapter. But he does all of it to seize our attention so we won’t ignore him.

Where We’ve Been

Last week we kicked off this short series with Proverbs 1:1–7, which lays out why Solomon wrote the book at all. If you missed it, read those verses this week.

Then we jumped over to chapter 2 and worked through the whole chapter, seeing in the first half how wisdom protects us — from a ruined life, ruined relationships, and a ruined reputation.

Today we go back to the end of chapter 1 and dig deeper.

In Proverbs 1:20–33, wisdom cries aloud in the street. She raises her voice in the markets, calls out at the head of the noisy streets, and speaks at the entrance of the city gates: How long, O simple ones, will you love being simple? How long will scoffers delight in their scoffing and fools hate knowledge?

She promises that if they turn at her reproof, she will pour out her spirit to them and make her words known. But because she called and they refused, because she stretched out her hand and no one heeded, because they ignored all her counsel and would have none of her correction — she says she will laugh at their calamity and mock when terror strikes them like a storm, when distress and anguish arrive like a whirlwind.

Then they will call on her, and she will not answer. They will seek her diligently and not find her — because they hated knowledge and did not choose the fear of the Lord, would have none of her counsel, and despised all her reproof. Therefore they will eat the fruit of their own way and have their fill of their own devices. The simple are killed by their turning away, and the complacency of fools destroys them.

But whoever listens to her will dwell secure and will be at ease, without dread of disaster.

Why He Tells It as a Story

We humans love story. How else do you explain the sheer explosion of streaming services? It started with one, and now there are half a dozen major subscription platforms, plus everything the broadcast networks are doing, plus all the free ad-supported channels. Why? Because we love getting lost in a story.

Solomon knows this. Which is why he doesn’t open like a seminary professor: Open your textbooks. Today we discuss wisdom. There are four components.

Instead he builds a character — a woman named Wisdom, the embodiment of it. And notice what she does: she yells. She screams. She cries out.

And notice where he puts her: a busy market.

I don’t know precisely what an ancient market sounded like, but I imagine vendors at their booths calling out to draw customers, buyers haggling over prices, animals being sold — the bleating of sheep, the braying of donkeys, the clucking of chickens. Constant noise and cacophony.

And she walks into that and tries to shout over the top of it.

We don’t have markets like that anymore, but I love that he chose such a loud place — because we live in an extraordinarily noisy world. We have podcasts and playlists and news and social feeds and games and a constant stream of notifications. If Solomon were writing today, I don’t think he’d need to change much. He could put Wisdom in the street crying out, and we wouldn’t hear a word, because we’d be looking down at our phones with earbuds in.

And we’d miss her saying three things.

One: Protection from Simple-Mindedness

There’s a difference between living simply and living with simple-mindedness.

Living simply means being content with what you have — not needing a great deal of stuff to find joy. And there’s a real freedom in it: less stuff, more time, more joy. That’s a good way to live.

That is not what this passage is describing.

Look at verse 22: How long, O simple ones, will you love being simple? How long will scoffers delight in their scoffing and fools hate knowledge?

Some people read that and think three different groups are being addressed — the simple, the scoffers, and the fools. But Hebrew poetry uses parallelism: saying one thing, then saying the same thing again in a slightly different way. It adds layers and texture.

So Solomon is defining the simple in that second half. They are scoffers. They are fools.

Which means we are not talking about people who lack knowledge because nobody ever taught them. We’re talking about people who scoff at the very idea of learning. This is not an education problem. It’s a heart problem.

Look at verse 29: they hated knowledge and did not choose the fear of the Lord. They would have none of her counsel and despised all her reproof.

This isn’t someone who’s merely uneducated. This is someone deliberately ignoring available wisdom. It’s a choice.

It’s like a soldier heading into hand-to-hand combat and refusing armor because he’s tough and brave. We’d look at that and say — no, that’s not bravery, that’s foolishness. It’s the football player insisting he doesn’t need a helmet. Yes, you’re hard-headed. You’re also going to get a concussion.

“The Effects Are Fun”

I worked as a lifeguard through three years of high school and two years of college, and in college I was an assistant manager.

My freshman year there was a girl on staff heading into her senior year of high school. She was one of the most popular students in her class — well-liked, plenty of friends, admired by the guys.

That summer a group of us lifeguards decided to spend an evening together. We piled into a car, and someone pulled out a beer.

Most of us were underage, and I said so. I wasn’t a drinker, so I passed.

Then she took it — which surprised me, given what I knew about her and the family she came from. She took a sip, and immediately grimaced. You could see plainly that she hated the taste.

So I said, “What are you doing?”

And she said, “That’s disgusting.”

“Then why are you drinking it?”

“Because the effects are fun.”

Over the course of her senior year, chasing those effects, one of the effects was that she repeatedly became involved with the boyfriends of her own friends.

As we saw last week, wisdom warns that this kind of thing ruins relationships — and you can imagine what it did to hers. And when it happened with a half-dozen different boys, it ruined her reputation as well. She went from one of the most popular people in her school to one of the most disliked.

But this was never a knowledge problem. She was a straight-A student from a well-respected family. She knew she was underage. She knew that what she was doing to her friends was wrong.

She damaged her own life because the world told her that pleasure and fun were found down that road — and she found ruin instead.

That is simple-mindedness: knowing exactly what the consequences are and proceeding anyway. Scoffing at the knowledge. Rejecting it.

And that’s precisely what Wisdom is shouting about. I want to protect you from that.

Two: Protection from Destruction

I’ll admit this next part gets strange, so stay with me.

Verse 25 says that because they ignored all her counsel and would have none of her reproof, she will laugh at their calamity and mock when terror strikes.

It’s one thing to say “I told you so.” It’s another to say “you’ve ruined everything and I love it.” That sounds downright cruel. What is going on?

Remember that Solomon created this woman. She’s a literary figure — there was no actual woman named Wisdom. He’s using her to seize our attention and drive something home.

And what he’s driving home is that living the way of the simple-minded leads to destruction.

So many of us assume it won’t happen to us. Sure, that happens to other people. Not to me. And Solomon shocks his readers by saying: no, hang on — it will happen to you. And when it does, Wisdom will laugh.

You Don’t Need the Experience

You’ve probably heard that experience is the best teacher. A friend told me this week that it’s actually evaluated experience that teaches best — and there’s real wisdom in that.

But I think Solomon would go further: you don’t have to acquire the experience at all. You don’t have to put certain substances into your body to know what it does. You don’t have to engage in certain behaviors to understand where they lead. You can gain the knowledge beforehand and conclude, “That is not good.”

When I was in seventh grade, my English teacher told us about a man in his hometown who worked at the local gas station back when they were full-service.

One day a semi pulled up. The attendant filled the tank, the driver went inside to pay and grab some food, and came back out. The attendant tapped the trailer to signal he was clear — and as the truck began pulling away, he slid his foot under the tire and let it roll over.

In case you didn’t know — I had to look it up — an empty eighteen-wheeler weighs around thirty-five thousand pounds. That’s seventeen and a half tons. That will destroy a foot.

And it did. He never used that foot again.

His manager came running out and asked why on earth he had done it.

He said: “I always wanted to know what it would feel like.”

You do not need that experience in order to know. There are many things you can understand in advance and simply conclude: that isn’t wise. I’d better not.

“I Don’t Understand How This Happened”

Notice that in the passage, it’s when calamity arrives that people finally turn to Wisdom — and that’s the moment she mocks.

I can’t tell you how often I’ve sat with someone as they poured out their story, freely admitting the mistakes they’d made along the way — and then finished with, “I don’t understand how this happened,” or “I don’t know why God is doing this to me.”

I don’t say this out loud, but part of me wants to answer: you’re in debt because you kept overspending. That isn’t a mystery. Certain acts have certain consequences.

And yet we want to live doing whatever we please, ignoring wisdom entirely — and then, when the destruction arrives, ask why this is happening.

Solomon is warning us ahead of time. You don’t have to live through it to understand it. You can take the wisdom now, and it will protect you.

Three: Protection from Yourself

Before I go further, let me acknowledge something important.

Some of the pain in your life exists because of destructive decisions other people made. What Solomon addresses here is destruction that arrives through our own choices — but I want to say clearly that some of what you carry is not your fault.

It is not your fault that your father was absent. It is not your fault that someone verbally abused you. It is not your fault that he or she cheated on you. Some of your pain is the result of other people’s sin. We live in a sin-soaked world, and like bumper cars we keep crashing into one another and damaging each other’s lives. I’m genuinely sorry.

But what Solomon is addressing is you not repeating those same mistakes.

Just because someone said cruel and unfair things about you does not give you permission to return it. That isn’t wise. Just because he or she cheated on you does not give you permission to do the same. That isn’t wise either.

Wisdom is walking the streets trying to protect these people, because she knows most of the destruction will arrive through their own decisions to step into sin. It’ll be fun. Just click there. Just buy that. Just drink this. Everything will be great.

And Wisdom is saying: don’t. I want to protect you from yourself.

Which is why verse 33 promises that whoever listens to her will dwell secure and be at ease, without dread of disaster.

When you walk in the way of wisdom, it grounds you. It centers you. It brings you to a place of peace. And when you’re dwelling securely and living at ease, you’re simply less enticed by the things that would wreck you.

The Inner Monologue

Let’s be honest — we live with ourselves constantly. We hear that inner monologue all day long. If you just watch this. If you just eat that. If you just do this, it’ll be great.

So how do you fight the selfishness that keeps steering you toward the simple-mindedness that will destroy you?

This will sound strange, but: you have to ignore yourself.

Now don’t mishear that. Ignoring yourself does not mean skipping meals to get thin. It doesn’t mean skipping sleep to get more done. It doesn’t mean forgoing rest to earn more money. Ignoring yourself is not permission to mistreat yourself — God gave you that body and you need to care for it.

What I mean is that you need to treat that inner monologue — the one steering you toward selfishness and simple-mindedness — exactly like that boring coworker having a dull conversation next to your desk. Something to be tuned out so you can attend to what matters more.

Gospel White Noise

Does anyone here sleep with a sound machine, or at least a fan?

My brother’s family all have their own. When we stayed with them over spring break we were in my nephew’s room, so I figured I’d try it. I turned it on — and slept an hour or two past my normal time. I walked out the next morning genuinely startled. I had never slept so hard in my life.

Why do people use those machines? Because it drowns out everything else. I didn’t hear that my brother’s kids were doing school at home that week. I didn’t hear anyone getting ready. I didn’t hear breakfast. The sound machine pushed all of it away, and I slept like a rock.

What I’m trying to learn in my own life is to let the gospel be my sound machine. To let Jesus create the white noise that helps me ignore the voice pushing me toward all those simple-minded things.

So I turn up the volume on Jesus. I listen to gospel-centered music. I get into the Scriptures. I read good books. I go to my growth group. I meet with people one on one so we can encourage each other toward Christ.

Because I’m telling you, my inner monologue is loud. It constantly wants ice cream. It constantly wants one more episode.

It’s a little embarrassing to say while standing up here, but I lost track of time last night and didn’t get to bed until one in the morning, because I was listening to a book while working on a puzzle. Everything in me wanted to keep doing the fun thing.

And none of those things are evil. But I don’t need ice cream every single night, and I should have gone to bed at eleven. There is always this inner selfishness — so somehow we have to turn up the volume on Jesus and let the gospel become the white noise that lets us push everything else away.

Paul gets at this in Colossians 3:2 when he says to set your mind on things above, not on earthly things.

Put your mind on Jesus seated on the throne. Put your heart on the sovereignty of God and his love for you. Set everything about you on the cross and the resurrection. Because when you keep that at the front of your heart and mind, it generates exactly the white noise you need to ignore the voice saying this will be great, click on that, listen to this.

So What Do You Need to Do?

If you’re not a follower of Jesus, the first step is simply to give your life to Christ.

Jesus died on a cross for your sin because he loves you. Your sin keeps you separated from a perfect, holy God — and it isn’t your fault in the sense that you didn’t choose to be born into it. But it is your default state.

And Jesus loved you so much that he left his throne in heaven, came to earth, took on a human body, and lived the only perfect life ever lived — and then died on a cross in our place. Because he was sinless, he did not deserve that death. He owed nothing. So in going anyway, he absorbed the penalty that belonged to us.

And now Jesus stands there like Wisdom in the street, hand outstretched, saying: come. I love you. Will you take his hand? Will you confess your sin and make him the Lord of your life? He gave it all for you.

And If You Already Follow Him

Many of you are here because you already follow Jesus and want to grow. So the question I put to myself I’ll put to you:

What is amplifying the noise of your inner monologue? Where are you failing to keep Jesus at the forefront?

What needs to change? What you listen to? What you watch? How you spend your time? Do you need to set the newspaper aside for a while so you can get into the Scriptures? Delete an app so you can give that time to a book or a relationship?

I don’t know what it is for you. But what is the Holy Spirit saying needs to go, because it isn’t helping you walk in the way of wisdom?

Please don’t mishear me — I’m not calling for legalism. This has nothing to do with your salvation. It has nothing to do with impressing God, and nothing to do with impressing other people so you appear more spiritual. This is about God loving you and wanting a relationship with you. It’s just that our sin keeps crowding in, raising the volume on things we ought to ignore and making us ignorant of what matters far more.

So what do you need to bring into your life to become that gospel white noise — the sound machine that lets everything else fade so you can see and hear Jesus?

Because when you turn the volume up on Jesus, you discover that he is Wisdom personified. And as the gospel becomes that white noise, you find that Jesus himself is the one protecting you from your simple-mindedness, from destruction, and from yourself.

Father, you wrote these words through Solomon’s pen long ago, and this wisdom has guided and protected people generation after generation. We want to be part of that company. Open our ears and our minds. Do what only you can do. For anyone not yet following you, let this be part of their journey toward finding and following Jesus. And for those who have walked with you a long while, remind us how essential your wisdom is. We have a world constantly telling us how to think and how to live, and your ways are often very different. Help us today to stop ignoring wisdom — and to ignore instead the things around us and within us that pull us away from you. In Jesus’s name, amen.