Wisdom in a World of Splinters: Text: Ecclesiastes 10:8-11
Introduction: The Curse is a Splinter
The Preacher in Ecclesiastes has been taking us on a tour of life "under the sun." This is his phrase for the world as it appears to us, the world in its fallenness, the world of toil and repetition and apparent futility. He has shown us that from a certain vantage point, it is all vanity, a chasing after the wind. But this is not the despair of a nihilist. This is the clear-eyed realism of a man who fears God. Only the man who fears God can truly understand the nature of the curse. Everyone else is simply baffled by it, or they pretend it is not there, or they try to invent some political scheme to finally iron out all the wrinkles in the fabric of a fallen world.
But the curse is not a wrinkle; it is a tear. It is not a smudge; it is a deep stain. When Adam sinned, God did not just punish Adam; He subjected the entire creation to futility. He introduced friction into the system. Thorns and thistles grew, but not just in the fields. Thorns and thistles grew in the very nature of work itself. Before the fall, Adam's work in the Garden was pure, unadulterated, glorious dominion. After the fall, work became toil. It became sweaty. And as our text today makes abundantly clear, it became dangerous.
We moderns like to think we have insulated ourselves from these dangers. We have hard hats and steel-toed boots and OSHA regulations. But the Preacher is getting at something more fundamental. He is describing the basic physics of a fallen world. In this world, when you dig a hole, you might fall in it. When you work with stone, it might crush you. When you swing an axe, it might slip. This is not because the universe is malevolent, but because it is cursed. It is groaning. And if we are to live wisely in this world, we must understand its nature. We must recognize that we are walking through a workshop where there are sharp edges everywhere. Wisdom is not about finding a way to a world with no sharp edges. Wisdom is learning how to work, and live, and thrive in a world full of them, without getting cut to ribbons.
The Text
He who digs a pit may fall into it, and a serpent may bite him who breaks through a wall. He who quarries stones may be hurt by them, and he who splits logs may be endangered by them. If the axe is dull and he does not sharpen its edge, then he must exert more strength. Wisdom has the advantage of giving success. If the serpent bites before being charmed, there is no advantage for the charmer.
(Ecclesiastes 10:8-11 LSB)
The Physics of Folly (v. 8-9)
The Preacher begins with a series of four proverbs that illustrate a single, foundational point. This is the way wisdom literature often works; it gives you a handful of examples so you can see the underlying principle.
"He who digs a pit may fall into it, and a serpent may bite him who breaks through a wall. He who quarries stones may be hurt by them, and he who splits logs may be endangered by them." (Ecclesiastes 10:8-9)
Notice the mundane nature of these activities. Digging pits, tearing down old walls, quarrying stone, splitting logs. This is just basic, blue-collar work. This is construction and demolition. This is what it takes to build a civilization. And every single one of these ordinary activities is fraught with peril. The world is not a padded room. It is full of gravity, snakes, heavy objects, and the basic laws of physics, all operating under the curse.
Now, there is a layer here that points to poetic justice. The man who digs a pit for his neighbor is often the one who tumbles in. Haman builds a gallows for Mordecai and ends up swinging on it himself. This is certainly true, and Proverbs is full of this kind of warning. But the Preacher's point here in Ecclesiastes is broader. He is not just talking about the dangers of malice, but the dangers of existence. Even if you are digging a pit for a perfectly legitimate reason, say, for a well or a foundation, you can still slip. The danger is inherent in the task itself.
Breaking through a wall might be part of a renovation project, but old walls are where critters like to live. You swing your sledgehammer, and you disturb a viper. Quarrying stone is necessary for building, but stone is heavy and unforgiving. Splitting logs is necessary for fire and warmth, but a misplaced wedge or a flying splinter can be treacherous. The point is this: the raw materials of creation, since the fall, are not entirely friendly. They resist us. They push back. Paul tells us in Romans 8 that the creation was subjected to futility and is groaning in the pains of childbirth. These verses in Ecclesiastes are what those groans sound like on a construction site.
This is a direct assault on all utopian thinking. The utopian believes that if we just get the system right, if we pass the right laws, if we elect the right people, we can eliminate all the risk. We can sand down all the rough edges of the world. The Bible says that is nonsense. The roughness is in the grain of the wood. The danger is in the nature of the stone. You cannot legislate away the law of gravity. You cannot form a committee to negotiate with serpents. This is God's world, and He has set the terms. A fool is someone who ignores these terms and acts as though he is invincible. A wise man respects the danger.
The Wisdom of the Axe (v. 10)
After establishing the reality of the danger, the Preacher moves to the solution. And the solution is not to stop working. The solution is wisdom.
"If the axe is dull and he does not sharpen its edge, then he must exert more strength. Wisdom has the advantage of giving success." (Ecclesiastes 10:10)
This is a brilliant, practical illustration. You are out splitting logs, a dangerous activity as we just learned. You have two options. You can take your dull axe and just keep banging away at the wood. This is the brute force approach. You will have to swing much harder, you will get tired faster, and because you are exhausted and flailing, the chances of an accident go way up. You are fighting not only the wood, but your own tool. This is folly. It is working hard, but not smart.
The other option is to stop, take out your whetstone, and spend ten minutes sharpening the blade. This might feel like you are wasting time. The pile of unsplit logs is not getting any smaller while you are sharpening. But that sharpened edge makes all the subsequent work more effective, more efficient, and safer. You will split more wood with less effort. That is wisdom. Wisdom is the sharpened edge.
The Preacher then generalizes the principle: "Wisdom has the advantage of giving success." The Hebrew word for success here has the sense of making something advantageous or profitable. Wisdom is what gives you leverage in a fallen world. It is the skill of applying the right knowledge at the right time. Folly is just putting your head down and trying to bull your way through the curse. Wisdom is taking the time to sharpen the axe.
This applies to everything. In our studies, do we just read and re-read with a dull mind, or do we stop and learn how to outline, how to take notes, how to think? In our relationships, do we just keep having the same argument with more volume, or do we stop and sharpen the axe of humility and ask for forgiveness? In our work, do we just keep doing things the way they have always been done, or do we take the time to think, to plan, to innovate? The fool is always busy, always sweating, and always complaining about how hard the wood is. The wise man knows the wood is hard, so he makes sure his axe is sharp.
The Serpent and the Charmer (v. 11)
The final verse gives us another picture of the relationship between wisdom, timing, and the dangers of the world.
"If the serpent bites before being charmed, there is no advantage for the charmer." (Genesis 10:11)
A serpent charmer's skill is only useful before the snake strikes. After the venom is in your veins, the flute music is not going to do you much good. Wisdom, like snake charming, is a preventative skill. It is about foresight. It is about seeing the danger coming and acting before it is too late. The fool lives in the moment, reacting to one crisis after another. The wise man lives in the present, but with his eyes on the future. He sees the serpent coiling, and he starts playing the tune.
This verse brings all the previous thoughts together. The world is full of serpents in the walls and pits in the ground (v. 8). These dangers require skill and foresight to navigate. Just as the wood-chopper needs a sharp axe, the snake handler needs his charm. But the skill is useless if it is not applied at the right time. Wisdom is not just knowing what to do; it is knowing when to do it. Sharpening the axe after you have exhausted yourself is pointless. Charming the snake after it has bitten is tragic.
This is why Scripture commands us to seek wisdom early. "Remember now your Creator in the days of your youth" (Eccl. 12:1). Don't wait until the serpent of regret has struck. Don't wait until a life of folly has left you broken and exhausted, and then decide to sharpen the axe. The advantage of wisdom is for success, for navigating the dangers of this life. And the time to acquire it is now.
The Gospel Axe
As with all of Ecclesiastes, we must lift our eyes from "under the sun" to see the ultimate reality. These proverbs are not just practical tips for workplace safety. They are parables of our spiritual condition.
We are all born into a fallen world, not just as workers, but as sinners. And the curse of sin is far more dangerous than any splinter or serpent. The curse of the law is a pit we have all dug with our own hands, and we have all fallen in. It is a wall we have broken through, only to be struck by that ancient serpent, the devil. The wages of sin is a stone that will crush us. Our own folly is a dull axe. We try to hack our way to righteousness through our own efforts, and all we do is exhaust ourselves and make a mess of things. We are bitten, we are broken, we are weary.
Into this dangerous workshop comes the Lord Jesus Christ. He is the ultimate master craftsman. He is Wisdom incarnate. He did not come with a dull axe. He is the very Word of God, sharper than any two-edged sword. He came to deal with the curse at its root.
On the cross, He fell into the pit of death for us. He was crushed by the stone of God's wrath that we deserved. He was struck by the serpent, but in being struck, He crushed the serpent's head (Gen. 3:15). He took the full, unmitigated danger of our fallen condition upon Himself.
And what He offers us is not a set of safety regulations, but a new heart. He gives us His wisdom. The Holy Spirit is the one who sharpens the axe of our minds and hearts. He teaches us to see the dangers of sin and temptation before they strike. He is the true charmer who gives us the wisdom to flee youthful lusts and to resist the devil.
Therefore, the Christian life is not one of brute, moralistic force. It is not about trying harder with a dull axe. It is about resting in the finished work of Christ and walking in the wisdom He provides. It is about stopping each morning, through prayer and the Word, to sharpen the axe before we go out to chop the wood of our daily tasks. The world is still a dangerous place. The curse is still operative. But in Christ, we have the wisdom that has the advantage, not just for success in this life, but for eternal life in the world to come.