The Price of Wisdom - Glenn Conjurske

The Price of Wisdom

by Glenn Conjurske

“Wisdom is the principal thing. Therefore get wisdom, and with all thy getting get understanding.” (Prov. 4:7). The first thing which we take note of here concerning wisdom is its great value. It is the principal thing. “Exalt her, and she shall promote thee: she shall bring thee to honour, when thou dost embrace her. She shall give to thine head an ornament of grace: a crown of glory shall she deliver to thee.” (Verses 8 & 9). “Forsake her not, and she shall preserve thee: love her, and she shall keep thee.” (Vs. 6).

The great value which this scripture sets upon wisdom plainly enough implies that it is not something which is easy to obtain. Rarely does anything of value come easily. The German proverb truly says, “Gold lies deep in the mountain, dirt on the highway.” I am well aware that Scripture says, “If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God, that giveth to all men liberally, and upbraideth not, and it shall be given him.” (James 1:5). But does this any way imply that wisdom is easy to obtain? Not so—-not in the least. Scripture also affirms that God “giveth us all things richly to enjoy,” and yet demands that we obtain our daily bread by the sweat of our face—-praying all the while, “Give us this day our daily bread.” Those who suppose that they are to obtain wisdom merely by prayer are not wise, and it is not likely they ever shall be. “With all thy getting get wisdom.” This surely does not indicate any glib or easy process.

No, there is a price to pay for wisdom, and its price is commensurate with its worth. “With all thy getting get wisdom.” This cannot refer to an easy act (or prayer) which is done and finished. “All thy getting” must mean something long-continued, and earnest and arduous. Thus much I take to be self-evident.

Neither is this the only scripture which speaks of the price of wisdom. In Proverbs 2:2-6 we read, “So that thou incline thine ear unto wisdom, and apply thine heart to understanding. Yea, if thou criest after knowledge, and liftest up thy voice for understanding, if thou seekest her as silver, and searchest for her as for hid treasures, then shalt thou understand the fear of the Lord, and find the knowledge of God. For the Lord giveth wisdom: out of his mouth cometh knowledge and understanding.” Observe, the Lord giveth wisdom, yet we must put forth the most earnest endeavors to obtain it, as this passage unquestionably teaches.

First, “incline thine ear unto wisdom.” That is, listen to the voice of wisdom. “Incline thine ear.” Put thine ear where wisdom is, and keep it open there. But here at the outset we are set upon an arduous undertaking, for who among us knows where wisdom is? If we but knew that, the rest would be easy. What an easy thing simply to incline our ear to wisdom—-IF we knew where wisdom dwelt. But most of us know no such thing. How many of us spend half our lives inclining our ears to everything but wisdom, ere we learn where wisdom is. He who knows where to find wisdom is half wise already.

But next, “apply thine heart to understanding.” There are two things which stand in the way of the acquisition of wisdom. The first is pride, of which I shall say but little here. The second is lukewarmness, or apathy. Pride and lukewarmness are twin sisters, as the reader may see by consulting the passage on lukewarmness in Revelation 3. The humble are capable of finding wisdom: the proud are not. But my subject here is lukewarmness. “Apply thine heart to understanding.” Those whose hearts are taken up with the pursuit of pleasures and possessions will find but little of wisdom. Those who seek places of prestige or influence are in the wrong way to find wisdom. Those who love wisdom will find her out. They apply their hearts to the pursuit of her. “Wisdom,” they perceive, “is the principal thing,” and therefore they make it their business to find her. Let others have money—-pleasures—-comforts—-ease. Let me have wisdom. “With all thy getting get understanding.” Now the plain fact is, most of the people on earth, and most of the folks in the church of God, have never yet come to this. They do not apply their hearts to wisdom. They do not pursue it as the principal thing. They do not get it with all their getting. And for that reason they shall never possess much of it.

But further, “if thou criest after knowledge, and liftest up thy voice for understanding.” We may surely find prayer in this, for to whom shall we lift up our voice for understanding, if not to God? “If any of you lack wisdom, let him ask of God.” But observe, this is no glib or lukewarm praying. This is not writing “wisdom” on a “prayer list,” and reading it to God. To cry after knowledge, and lift up our voice for understanding, must surely mean earnest and fervent prayer. This, in short, is the praying of a man whose heart is engaged in the pursuit of wisdom.

And I must point out again how thoroughly humility is woven into the very fabric of a true pursuit of wisdom. This crying after knowledge—-this lifting up of our voice for understanding—-this is the heart-cry of a man who feels his deficiency. The self-sufficient have little occasion to thus cry for wisdom. They read Neo-evangelical books, which reek of worldliness and intellectual pride, and think they are finding wisdom. They study at intellectual, unspiritual colleges, till they become intellectual and unspiritual themselves, and think this is wisdom. If there were more of earnest and humble crying to God for wisdom, men would be directed into a different path. A painful and lonely path, perhaps. A difficult path, no doubt. But a path in which they might find true wisdom.

But I do not believe that prayer alone will give a man wisdom, any more than prayer alone will give him his daily bread—-unless God has shut him up in a position where he can do nothing but pray. The man who has a broken leg and a broken arm may pray for his daily bread, and forbear working. The rest of us are bound to work, though we ought to pray also. We ought to cry to God for wisdom, and we ought to get it with all our getting, for it will not be gotten any other way.

Thus, “if thou seekest her as silver, and searchest for her as for hid treasures.” This is plain and practical. We know how men seek for silver—-rising early, working late, working hard, scheming, planning, advertising, competing, investing, venturing, risking, and sacrificing. Time and health and pleasure and family and conscience and morals are all sacrificed in the pursuit of money.

Now the man who would obtain wisdom must seek it as other men seek silver. Not that he should sacrifice conscience or morals in the pursuit of it, but he will have to sacrifice a good many other things. He will surely have to spend his time in the pursuit of it, and no doubt money also.

But I proceed. “If thou seekest her as silver, and searchest for her as for hid treasures.” This again implies the difficulty of obtaining wisdom. Nuggets of gold do not lie on the highway. This treasure is hid. It is “deep in the mountain,” and the mountain is—-where? As a plain matter of fact, most of us spend half our lives digging in the wrong mountain. We read the wrong kind of books. We pursue the wrong subjects. We follow the wrong teachers. We pursue the wrong kind of knowledge. We study at the wrong kind of schools. True wisdom is hid. The devil is a liar and a deceiver, who for six millenniums has filled the world with error under the name of truth. For two millenniums he has labored to fill the church with darkness, under the name of light. Many of the best of men have been largely in the dark. A thousand forms of error pose as light and truth on every hand, and somewhere in the midst of all of this clamor is the hid treasure of truth and wisdom. Few enough actually apply their hearts to seek her. Among those who do, few seek in the right places. The most of men incline their ears to those things which are highly esteemed among men, and which are therefore abomination with God (Luke 16:15). How often as a boy in high school was it drilled into my mind to “get a good education,” so that I could get a good job, and make good money. But such an “education,” for such a purpose, is at the farthest remove from wisdom.

Equally far from wisdom is the whole course which will gain the approval and acceptance of the builders, and wipe off the reproach of Christ. “Our faculty has credentials that will turn heads,” said an advertisement in a prominent Fundamentalist journal a number of years ago. Ah, yes. Yet it remains a certainty that those “credentials” will not turn God’s head, though they may well turn his stomach—-for “that which is highly esteemed among men IS abomination with God.” “In that hour Jesus rejoiced in spirit, and said, I thank thee, O Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that thou hast HID these things from the wise and prudent, and hast revealed them unto babes: even so, Father, for so it seemed good in thy sight.” (Luke 10:21). Now if the wisdom of God is hid from the wise and prudent, it is surely not hid where most folks expect to find it. And this again brings us to the difficulty of finding wisdom. We must search for it as for hid treasure, for that is exactly what it is.

And how do men search for hid treasure? I do not speak of boys who have been reading pirate stories, who may dig a two-foot hole in the back yard, and then leave off. No, I speak of men—-of men who are in earnest in the pursuit of hid treasure. I speak of men who are sure of the actual existence of that treasure, and determined to find it. How do they search for hid treasure? With a good deal more of toil and earnestness than they spend in seeking silver. I have spoken above of the time and toil which men expend in their ordinary pursuit of money, but hid treasure is another thing. The toils and hardships which men will endure in the search for hid treasure far exceed their ordinary labors for silver, for the hid treasure is regarded as far exceeding in value any amount of money which we might gain by our ordinary labors.

How, then, do men search for hid treasure? Most of us have never searched for hid treasure. We have never known anyone else engaged in the search for it, for most men have never believed in its actual existence. Yet the pages of history give us a glimpse or two of men engaged in the actual pursuit of hid treasure, in the phenomenon known as the “gold rush.” The treasure, they know, is there, though hidden deep in the mountains, and two thousand miles away. But such trifles cannot stop them, and away they go, thousands of them, leaving home and family and friends and all behind them, to traverse on horse or foot thousands of miles of mountains and plains and deserts—-to cross numberless rivers without bridges—-to sleep under the stars—-to press forward through heat and cold and rain and snow—-only to get to the place where they might begin to search for the hid treasure.

How many search for wisdom after this fashion? How many men will forsake all and cross a continent to find the place where they might incline their ear to the words of wisdom? The fact is, most men expect to buy wisdom at an easier rate than this. They will not spend their money to buy solid books, though they will spend it for every earthly comfort. They will not spend their time to study solid books, though they will spend it for everything else which the earth can offer. Yet the scripture says, “IF thou seekest her as silver, and searchest for her as for hid treasures.” Those who think to obtain wisdom on easier terms will never possess much of it.

But I have often enough been accused of being an idealist, and of setting the standard so high as to discourage people. I plead guilty to both charges. I set the standard where the Bible sets it, and this discourages the lukewarm and the lazy. My idealism I have learned from the Bible. From the Bible I have learned to abhor the lukewarmness and compromise which have low ideals, and an easy road to them. Paul’s standard was nothing short of “the measure of the stature of the fulness of Christ.” He pressed toward the mark, for the prize of the high calling of God. It is none of my business to lower the mark, to suit the tastes of lukewarmness. It is God who sets the standard high, and if the road be hard, I cannot help it. It is God who says, “IF thou seekest her as silver, and searchest for her as for hid treasures, then shalt thou . . . find”—-—what? Not the highest rung on the ladder of wisdom, but the lowest. “Then shalt thou understand the fear of the Lord, and find the knowledge of God.” “The fear of the Lord,” Solomon tells us, is but “the beginning of wisdom.” (Prov. 9:10). If the lowest round must be sought thus, so much the more the higher rounds. There are, of course, many degrees of wisdom, but ease and apathy are not the road to any of them.

All this is the price which must be paid to obtain wisdom, but there is another price to pay to possess it. The wisest man on the earth had his mouth always full of these words, “vanity of vanities, and vexation of spirit.” It was the wisest man on the earth who wrote, “For in much wisdom is much grief, and he that increaseth knowledge increaseth sorrow.” (Eccl. 1:18). Though commonly spoken in sarcasm, it is the very truth that “Ignorance is bliss.” The man who has little understanding may laugh his merry way through life, singing “Everything is beautiful, in its own way.” The man who has wisdom can only say, “All is vanity, and vexation of spirit.” His songs are turned to sighs, and his laughter to tears. He looks about him and finds everything out of its course. Where he saw no wrong before, he now sees but little right. He sees that “judgement doth never go forth.” He sees that “Might makes right.” He sees that men call evil good, and good evil. He sees pride called humility, and humility pride. He sees darkness hailed as light, systematized ignorance acclaimed as superior knowledge, and folly pursued as wisdom. He sees old errors revived as new wisdom, and the enamored multitudes gaping after them.

By all of this his spirit is stirred to the depths, and he labors to set things right—-only to discover that he cannot. He learns that “That which is crooked cannot be made straight, and that which is wanting cannot be numbered.” (Eccl. 1:15). He soon learns that reason does not reign among men, but passion—-that right does not reign, but interest—-and therefore the crooked cannot be made straight. He gets only reproach for his pains, for he labors to set right what others cannot—-or will not—-see to be wrong. He labors to convince them that it is wrong, but they cannot see it, and he is called “croaker,” “negativist,” “censorious,” “judgemental,” and a host of other hard names. This is the price of wisdom.

But if he cannot set anything else right, he must yet get right himself. He honestly adheres to that which he knows to be the truth, but he shall have no thanks for it. He is soon regarded as an extremist and a radical. His friends that were are friends no more. They cannot understand him.

He then begins to sigh for the days of his ignorance. How he envies the man who has no understanding, who sees nothing but good in the church, who knows nothing of the tears and sorrows of the man who sees things as they are. How keenly he feels the loss of his friends, and the loneliness which belongs to the man whose friends cannot understand him, and who is shunned and distrusted by those whom he loves the most. Then it is that he begins to sigh with the weeping prophet, “Woe is me, my mother, that thou hast borne me a man of strife and a man of contention to the whole earth!” (Jer. 15:10). Such is the price of wisdom.

But here we may well start back, and ask, Why should we pay so high a price to obtain that which will cost us so much to possess? We might guess in the first place that that which costs so much must be of surpassing worth. “Happy is the man that findeth wisdom, and the man that getteth understanding. For the merchandise of it is better than the merchandise of silver, and the gain thereof than fine gold. She is more precious than rubies, and all the things thou canst desire are not to be compared unto her. Length of days is in her right hand, and in her left hand riches and honour. She is a tree of life to them that lay hold upon her, and happy is every one that retaineth her.” (Prov. 3:13-18). But this may seem to stand directly against what we have read in Ecclesiastes. Here it is “happy . . . happy,” and there, “much grief” and an increase of “sorrow”—-and both of these as the result of wisdom. And yet it is the same God who penned both passages, and the same man also, for Solomon wrote them both. Both are certainly the truth, though we may be at a loss to explain how they can be.

But I may suggest a few things which may serve to reconcile the two. The term “happy” in Proverbs 3 does not necessarily have anything to do with the feelings or emotions, but is the equivalent of the word “fortunate.” If his wisdom sets him at variance with all the world and half the church, yet it sets him at one with God, and thus he is fortunate indeed. This may be applied to a man who has grief enough in his feelings.

Yet if men will insist upon understanding “happy” in the emotional sense, it is also certainly true that wisdom will save a man from a thousand griefs which the unwise must bear. It is wisdom which will preserve health, wisdom which will secure a good marriage, wisdom which will raise good children, wisdom which will stay out of quarrels, and out of debt, wisdom which saves money instead of wasting it, wisdom which puts out the small fire before it becomes a great one. And all of this surely contributes to happiness, in the common sense of the word. Yet a man may secure all of this, and yet find much grief in much wisdom, for those reasons already recited above.

But beyond any and all of personal considerations, it is wisdom which gives a man the capacity to do the work of God. Not that this will always readily appear. It may well be that the man who has much the less of wisdom will find much greater acceptance with the people—-but he will not do them nearly so much good. It is wisdom which gives a man the capacity to do good. It is wisdom which makes him a profitable physician, though his prescriptions may be unpopular enough. The true prophet of God is seldom popular, yet he it is who does the good.

But suppose that we cannot say what is the worth of wisdom. Suppose it has no great attraction to us, and that we actually prefer the bliss of ignorance. Yet by faith we ought to rise up and get wisdom with all our getting, for it is God who advises us so to do, and by faith we apprehend that the way of God must be better than our own. Though the price to obtain wisdom is high, and the price to possess it higher still, yet by faith we know that wisdom is worth the price.

Glenn Conjurske