Wisdom, Folly, and Thin Skin Text: Ecclesiastes 7:19-22
Introduction: The Real Strong Man
We live in an age that is obsessed with power. Our political discourse, our cultural battles, our corporate maneuvering, it is all a frantic scramble for leverage, for influence, for the kind of power that can make other people do what you want them to do. The world thinks strength is found in a clenched fist, a loud voice, a big army, or a majority vote. The world believes that ten influential men in the city council or in the board room are the very definition of strength. They are the movers and the shakers. They are the ones who make things happen.
But the Preacher, Solomon, this man who had more worldly power than any of us could ever imagine, pulls back the curtain to show us where true strength lies. He has been on a long journey, as we have seen, exploring every avenue of life "under the sun." He has chased pleasure, accumulated wealth, undertaken massive building projects, and pursued wisdom. And in his inspired, repentant old age, he gives us the unvarnished truth. Worldly power is a chasing after the wind. True, lasting, formidable strength is found in something else entirely. It is found in wisdom.
But this is not a sentimental, greeting card wisdom. This is a robust, masculine, hard-headed wisdom that is rooted in the fear of the Lord. And this wisdom, as we will see in our text today, is intensely practical. It is not just for philosophers in their ivory towers; it is for husbands and wives, masters and servants, parents and children. It teaches us how to evaluate true strength, how to understand our own profound weakness, and how to navigate a world full of sinners, a world full of words, without being undone by either. The wisdom presented here is a fortress, a high tower. And the man who possesses it is stronger than ten men who only possess the brittle authority of this world.
The Text
Wisdom strengthens a wise man more than ten men with power who are in a city. Indeed, there is not a righteous man on earth who continually does good and who never sins. Also, do not give your heart to all words which are spoken, so that you will not hear your slave cursing you. For your heart also knows that you likewise have many times cursed others.
(Ecclesiastes 7:19-22 LSB)
The Citadel of Wisdom (v. 19)
The Preacher begins with a startling comparison, a proverb that turns the world's values on their head.
"Wisdom strengthens a wise man more than ten men with power who are in a city." (Ecclesiastes 7:19)
Think about what this means. Take the ten most influential men in a city, the rulers, the wealthy merchants, the generals. They have armies, treasuries, political clout. They can pass laws, build walls, and command legions. And Solomon says that one man, armed with true wisdom, is stronger than all of them combined. This is not hyperbole; it is a statement of spiritual reality. We see this illustrated elsewhere in Scripture. A poor wise man saved a city from a great king, though no one remembered him (Ecclesiastes 9:13-18). A wise woman saved the city of Abel by persuading the people to toss the head of a rebel over the wall, ending Joab's siege (2 Samuel 20:16-22). Wisdom is not just cleverness; it is the skill of godly living, the ability to see things as God sees them and to act accordingly.
Where does this strength come from? The ten rulers have external power. Their power is in their position, their wealth, their ability to coerce. But the wise man's strength is internal. It is the strength of character, of discernment, of knowing when to speak and when to be silent, when to act and when to wait. It is the strength that comes from being anchored to the throne of God, not to the shifting sands of public opinion. The ten rulers are constantly worried about polls, about rivals, about their portfolios. The wise man fears God, and therefore has nothing else to fear. His strength is not in his circumstances, but in his God. True wisdom is Christ, "in whom are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge" (Col. 2:3). The Christian who is walking in the wisdom of God is therefore stronger than the most powerful pagan cabal, because he is tapped into the ultimate source of all power and authority.
The Great Leveler (v. 20)
Now, lest we get puffed up with this idea of our great wisdom and strength, Solomon immediately brings us back down to earth with a dose of theological reality. This is the foundation upon which all true wisdom must be built.
"Indeed, there is not a righteous man on earth who continually does good and who never sins." (Ecclesiastes 7:20)
This is the great leveler. This is the doctrine of total depravity, stated plainly. No one bats a thousand. No one is perfect. The Apostle Paul quotes this very stream of Old Testament thought in Romans 3 when he says, "There is none righteous, no, not one." This is not just saying that we all make mistakes. It is a fundamental statement about our nature. Even the "good" that we do is tainted with mixed motives and imperfections. The best of men are but men at best.
Why is this a part of wisdom? Because a wise man knows his own limitations. He knows his own frailties. He is not surprised by his own sin, though he is grieved by it. This knowledge keeps him humble. The ten rulers in the city are likely operating under the delusion of their own righteousness. They think they deserve their power. They create laws for others that they themselves do not keep. But the wise man knows that he is a sinner, saved by grace alone. This protects him from pride, from presumption, and from the kind of self-righteous folly that brings powerful men down.
Furthermore, this understanding radically alters how we deal with others. If you know that you are a sinner, you will be far more gracious when you encounter the sins of others. This verse is the necessary setup for the practical advice that follows. You cannot apply verses 21 and 22 if you have not first come to grips with verse 20. If you think you are fundamentally okay, then the sins of others against you will seem like an outrageous injustice. But if you know you are a great sinner, then the sins of others against you are just par for the course in a fallen world. It changes everything.
A Cure for Thin Skin (v. 21)
Here is the practical application of this theological truth. This is where the rubber of wisdom meets the road of everyday life.
"Also, do not give your heart to all words which are spoken, so that you will not hear your slave cursing you." (Genesis 7:21)
The phrase "give your heart to" means to pay close attention, to take it seriously, to let it sink in. Solomon is giving us a piece of profound practical advice: stop being so sensitive. Stop listening in on every conversation. Don't be the kind of person who is constantly trying to find out what other people are saying about you. In our modern world, this is the sin of constantly checking your social media mentions, of reading all the comments, of obsessing over what the trolls are saying. Solomon says, "Don't do it." Why? Because if you go looking for trouble, you will find it. If you press your ear to the wall, you are going to hear something you don't like.
He uses the example of a slave cursing his master. This was a common reality. People complain. People vent. People say things in frustration that they might not say to your face. The wise man knows this and makes allowances for it. He is not so insecure that he needs to police the private mutterings of everyone under him. He has a thick skin because his identity is not wrapped up in the approval of others. He is secure in God.
The foolish man, on the other hand, is thin-skinned. He is perpetually offended. He is always on the lookout for slights and insults. And because he is looking for them, he finds them everywhere. He "gives his heart" to every stray word, and as a result, his heart is in a constant state of turmoil, bitterness, and resentment. This is not strength; it is profound weakness. Wisdom strengthens a man by teaching him what to ignore.
The Mirror of the Heart (v. 22)
Solomon concludes this thought by turning the camera around. Before you get on your high horse about what your servant said, take a look in the mirror.
"For your heart also knows that you likewise have many times cursed others." (Ecclesiastes 7:22)
This is the knockout punch. Your own conscience, your own heart, testifies against you. You know perfectly well that you have done the same thing. You have complained about your boss. You have vented about a frustrating neighbor. You have "cursed" others, whether under your breath or in conversation with a sympathetic friend. You are not innocent. You are guilty of the very thing that you are tempted to get so worked up about when it is done to you.
This is the golden rule in its negative application. Do not judge, lest you be judged. For with the judgment you pronounce you will be judged, and with the measure you use it will be measured to you (Matt. 7:1-2). The standard you want to apply to your servant's loose talk is the very standard that God would be justified in applying to you. Are you sure you want that? The wise man understands the economy of grace. He knows he needs it in truckloads, and so he is eager to extend it in shovelfuls.
This is not to say that we should be indifferent to slander or that there is never a time to confront sin. But Solomon is dealing with the ordinary, run-of-the-mill grumbling and foolish talk that is endemic to a fallen world. Wisdom teaches us to be graciously realistic. It is realistic about the sinfulness of all men (v. 20), and it is realistic about our own sinfulness in particular (v. 22). This realism is what produces a gracious and stable man, a man who is not easily offended, a man who is slow to anger because he knows he lives in a glass house and has no business throwing stones.
Conclusion: The Strong Man of the Gospel
This passage gives us a portrait of true strength, and it is the opposite of what the world esteems. The world's strong man is proud, easily offended, and keeps a meticulous record of wrongs. The Bible's wise man is humble, thick-skinned, and quick to forgive, because he knows his own desperate need for forgiveness.
And of course, all of this points us to the Lord Jesus Christ, the truly wise and truly strong man. He was stronger than all the rulers of His day, both Roman and Jewish. He was the one man on earth who did continually do good and who never sinned. And yet, how did He respond to the words spoken against Him? "When they hurled their insults at him, he did not retaliate; when he suffered, he made no threats. Instead, he entrusted himself to him who judges justly" (1 Peter 2:23).
Men did not just curse Him under their breath; they screamed for His crucifixion. And what was His response? "Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do" (Luke 23:34). He did not "give his heart" to their curses; He gave His heart for their salvation.
This is the wisdom that strengthens us. It is the wisdom of the cross. We are all sinners. We have all cursed others. We have all cursed God with our disobedience. And the good news of the gospel is that Christ took all of those curses upon Himself on the tree. He became a curse for us, so that we might become the righteousness of God in Him (Gal. 3:13). When we grasp this, when we truly understand the grace that has been shown to us, it makes us strong. It frees us from the petty tyranny of other people's opinions. It frees us from the need to vindicate ourselves. It strengthens us to overlook an offense, to absorb a slight, and to live at peace in a world of sinners, knowing that our standing is not determined by the words of men, but by the finished work of Christ.