Proverbs 20:25

The Folly of the Open Mouth: Proverbs 20:25

Introduction: Words as Worlds

We live in an age that treats words like styrofoam packing peanuts. They are used to fill space, they are lightweight, and they are thrown away without a second thought. Our culture is drowning in a sea of rash, thoughtless, and disposable speech. From the rage-fueled comment section to the vapid promises of politicians, words have been detached from reality, from consequence, and from honor. But the Christian worldview begins with the Word. God spoke, and worlds came into being. His Word is not only descriptive; it is creative, it is binding, it is covenantal. And because we are made in His image, our words have a derivative, but very real, weight. Our words create worlds of their own, worlds of trust or suspicion, of order or chaos, of integrity or ruin.

The book of Proverbs is intensely concerned with the use of the tongue. The fool is almost always identified by what comes out of his mouth. He is a babbler, a slanderer, a flatterer, and as we see in our text today, a rash promiser. He uses his mouth to set traps, and as is so often the case with the fool, he is the first one to step in them. He does not understand that words are not just sounds we make; they are commitments. They are bonds. And when those commitments are made before God, they are sacred.

Proverbs 20:25 is a sharp, pointed stick, poking at our modern flippancy. It warns us about the danger of sanctified impulsiveness, the peril of making a spiritual promise on an emotional high, only to find ourselves in a bind when the bill comes due and the feelings have fled. This is the folly of consecrating first and calculating second. It is the spiritual equivalent of jumping out of a plane and then starting to read the instructions for the parachute.


The Text

It is a trap for a man to say rashly, “It is holy!”
And after the vows to make inquiry.
(Proverbs 20:25 LSB)

The Self-Made Snare (v. 25a)

The proverb begins by identifying the danger. It is not an external threat, but a self-inflicted one.

"It is a trap for a man to say rashly, 'It is holy!'" (Proverbs 20:25a)

The word for "trap" here is one that can refer to a snare for catching birds. The image is of a man, blithely walking along, who uses his own mouth to construct an intricate snare right in his own path, and then with his eyes wide open, he steps right into it. The source of the danger is not the vow itself, but the manner in which it is made: "rashly." This is speech that is hasty, unconsidered, and impulsive. It is a promise born from a momentary surge of emotion, not a settled conviction of the will.

And what is the content of this rash speech? "It is holy!" This is the language of consecration. In the Old Testament, to declare something "holy" (qodesh) was to separate it from common use and dedicate it exclusively to God. This could be an object, an animal for sacrifice, or a portion of one's wealth (as in Leviticus 27). This was a solemn, binding transaction. Once something was declared holy, it belonged to God. You could not take it back. To do so was to commit sacrilege, to steal from God Himself.

So the picture here is of a man in a moment of religious fervor. Perhaps he has just heard a stirring sermon, or witnessed a great act of God, or survived a near-disaster. In the heat of the moment, he stands up and makes a grand pledge. "Lord, I'll give half my income to the building fund!" or "I vow to serve as a missionary in the most dangerous part of the world!" or "I consecrate this piece of land to the church!" The promise sounds pious. It sounds holy. But it was made rashly. It was an explosion of the mouth, not a fruit of careful deliberation. And in that moment, the trap is set. The jaws of the snare are open.


The Backward Calculation (v. 25b)

The second line of the proverb reveals the fool's fatal error in methodology. It shows us why the rash vow is a trap.

"And after the vows to make inquiry." (Proverbs 20:25b)

Here is the punchline. The man makes the vow, the solemn promise is spoken, the consecration is made, and then he begins to think. He starts to "make inquiry." He pulls out his calculator. He checks his bank account. He talks to his wife. He looks at a map. He begins to count the cost after he has already committed to pay the price. And this is precisely backward. Wisdom counts the cost first, and then builds the tower. Folly builds half a tower, runs out of bricks, and then sits in the rubble of his own shame and embarrassment (Luke 14:28-30).

When the inquiry begins, the man discovers the true implications of his rash words. That promise to give half his income now means he cannot pay his mortgage. That vow to go to the mission field now conflicts with his responsibility to care for his aging parents. The land he consecrated was the one he was planning to sell to fund his retirement. The trap springs shut. Now he has two terrible options. He can either break his solemn vow to God, proving himself to be a liar and a covenant-breaker, bringing dishonor to the name of the Lord. Or, he can keep his vow to his own great hurt and the potential ruin of his household, all because he spoke before he thought.

This is a direct assault on the kind of thoughtless, emotionalistic piety that so often masquerades as great faith. True faith is not a blind leap. It is a reasoned trust. God does not honor promises we make that override prior duties He has already assigned us. He does not want you to promise Him your house if it means your wife and children are homeless. That is not holiness; that is sanctified foolishness. The inquiry must come before the vow. Deliberation must precede dedication.


Covenant Words in a Styrofoam Age

The principle here extends far beyond formal vows of consecration. It applies to all our solemn promises. It applies to the marriage bed, the church membership roll, and the business contract. Our God is a God who keeps His word. He swore an oath to Abraham. He made a covenant with Israel. He fulfilled every promise in the person of His Son. The entire universe holds together by the word of His power (Hebrews 1:3). As His people, our words are to reflect His character. Our "yes" should be "yes" and our "no," "no" (Matthew 5:37).

But we have made our words cheap. We enter into marriage vows before God and witnesses, promising to love, honor, and cherish "till death do us part," and then we make inquiry later when things get difficult. We find a loophole. We decide the cost is too high. We join a church, vowing to support it with our prayers, our presence, our gifts, and our service, and then we make inquiry later when the sermon offends us or a better program springs up down the street.

This proverb teaches us that our words have consequences. A rash vow is a trap because it binds us to a course of action we have not properly considered. It puts our integrity on the line. As Psalm 15 says, the man who dwells on God's holy hill is one who "swears to his own hurt and does not change." This is the man of integrity. He makes his vows carefully, soberly, and with much inquiry beforehand. But once the vow is made, he keeps it, even when it becomes costly. The fool does the opposite. He makes the vow lightly and then, when it becomes costly, he looks for a way out.


The Vow-Keeper and the Vow-Breakers

When we hold this proverb up as a mirror, we all see the fool staring back at us. Who among us has not spoken rashly? Who has not made a promise, great or small, only to regret it later? Who has not, in a moment of weakness or fear, broken their word? We are a race of vow-breakers. We promised God our allegiance in the garden and broke that vow before the sun went down. We are trapped, not just by one rash vow, but by a lifetime of covenant-breaking. Our mouths have condemned us.

But into this mess of our broken promises comes the great Vow-Keeper. Jesus Christ is the man who made the ultimate vow and kept it perfectly. In the eternal council of the Trinity, the Son vowed to the Father that He would redeem a people for Himself. He knew the full cost of that vow. He made a full inquiry. He knew it would mean incarnation, humiliation, rejection, suffering, and a bloody cross. He knew it would mean bearing the full, unmitigated wrath of God against the sins of His people, our rash words included.

And when the time came, in the Garden of Gethsemane, when the cost was no longer theoretical but was a cup of wrath trembling in His hand, He did not look for a way out. He did not make a new inquiry. He said, "Not my will, but yours, be done" (Luke 22:42). He swore to His own hurt, the ultimate hurt, and He did not change. He kept His vow to the Father, and by keeping it, He purchased forgiveness for all of our broken vows.

Because Christ is the perfect Vow-Keeper, there is grace for us vow-breakers. When we are caught in the trap of our own rash words, the way out is not to break the promise, but to repent of the rashness. We confess our folly to God. We ask for wisdom. And we lean on the grace of the one who was faithful for us. He frees us from the trap of our sin, and He empowers us to become people of our word. He calls us to a life of sober, deliberate, and joyful commitment, not in our own strength, but in the strength of the one whose "yes" to us is sealed in His own blood.