13 I have also seen this example of wisdom under the sun, and it seemed great to me. 14 There was a little city with few people in it. A great king came against it and besieged it, building great siegeworks against it. 15 Now there was found in it a poor wise man, and he by his wisdom delivered the city. Yet no one remembered that poor man. 16 So I said, “Wisdom is better than might; yet the poor man’s wisdom is despised, and his words are not heeded.”
17 The quiet words of the wise are more to be heeded
than the shouting of a ruler among fools.
18 Wisdom is better than weapons of war,
but one bungler destroys much good. (NRSVUE)
I’m glad Ecclesiastes is in the Bible. Its presence in Holy Scripture has helped me stay a Christian. Rather than being in sync with the spirit of the age—including that which permeates popular evangelicalism, the Preacher of Ecclesiastes challenges it.
Most of my ministry over the last ten years has been to the deconstructing, deconverting, and post-evangelicals. “Post-Evangelicals center on justice and accountability. They challenge hypocrisy and abuses in the church while distancing themselves from evangelical identity, though they hold to core doctrinal beliefs.”[1] I identify with these groups, although I’m not much for labels as, more often than not, they’re excuses to cancel rather than descriptors that promote accuracy, curiosity, and conversation.
In numbering myself with the doubters and disillusioned, I know well the temptation toward cynicism. Followers of Jesus who struggle with cynicism demand a faith that takes observation and experience seriously, detest lies and hypocrisy, and refuse to settle for any version of Christianity that doesn’t make plenty of space for questions and lament. Cynics run aground, however, in despairing that there aren’t many sincere and good-hearted people who also care about these goals. The danger is that, over time, cynics become increasingly intoxicated with their own goodness, and their hearts grow hard and cold. They get stuck because they’re too fixated on “bunglers” (more on these below and next week), or those who have used, betrayed, or wounded them. All this fixation on lesser voices unworthy of their attention keeps them from fixing their eyes on the teaching and example of Jesus, and living fully and joyfully for Him alone.
Yes, I’m talking about myself. But I’m also speaking for a myriad of others, and maybe I’m speaking for you. In any event, whether it’s for you or someone you love, I’d like to draw six lessons and encouragements from the passage above:
- Just because a nation, institution, or individual has power and money, and enjoys the reputation that goes with both, doesn’t mean it or they are wise. We see this in the foolish rhetoric or actions of the “great” kings and would-be kings of our day. But we also see it in places of employment when decisions are made by those making six and seven-figure salaries that show total disregard for those who are actually doing the work. We see it in churches and Christian ministries when leaders play to the crowds, ditching the methods of Jesus in pursuit of some objective. Or when they use deceptive optics to chase dollars.
- Just because you have little influence or money doesn’t mean you aren’t wise or that you can’t love or help people in great ways. Mother Teresa famously said, “Do small things with great love.” If you follow her advice, however, you’re going to have to make peace with being unnoticed and unsung. That is, in seeing, showing compassion, and engaging like Jesus, you’re going to have to be ok with serving in forgotten and insignificant places. More importantly—and surely this is the best place to start, you’re going to have to once again look to Jesus as your role model and inspiration. He’s the one who came to serve, not be served; who didn’t have a place to lay his head; who was the son of a carpenter from an obscure town.
- Good and great things you’ve done or have been part of will, more often than not, be forgotten. As painful as this is, it’s more about the nature of life and the rapidity of change than a personal slight. Still, it hurts, and I’ve often had to look outside this reality and the book of Ecclesiastes to a promise in Hebrews: “God is not unjust; he will not forget your work and the love you have shown him as you have helped his people and continue to help them.”[2]
- Wisdom will always trump power, whether the social influencers pass it on or the crowds listen. For sure, this offsets some of the obscurity, irrelevance, or injustice we experience related to the above; however, it also begs important questions: Why do I do what I do? Is it to get noticed by the influencers, crowds, or some other tribe? Or is it primarily out of love for God and neighbor? Who is King of my thoughts and dreams? Jesus or some “King” I don’t like, person who has wounded me, or someone else?
- Wisdom is found in the quiet, not the shouting. Our Creator says, “Be still and know that I am God.” Wisdom often starts in retreating to a quiet place, in turning off the noise for a time. Or think of Pilot when Jesus was brought before him. He missed the wisdom of the moment because he capitulated to the voice of the angry mob rather than the private, discreet wisdom of his wife. As one scholar noted, “noise is no substitute for astute judgment.”[3]
- One “bungler” can undo a lot of good in a short period. (18) This is both sad and unjust, but it’s also how life often works. Because this verse is so apropos to our times, we’ll unpack it further next week. But for now, and taken together with the points mentioned above, even this tragic reality doesn’t diminish the beauty of wisdom, the status of the poor in God’s eyes, or the value of quiet, unsung, heroic acts of service.
Finally, when I’ve found myself stuck in a cynical place, Dan Allender’s counsel has helped me immensely over the last 20 years:
“Clearly the disillusioned and best leaders are those who have nothing left to prove because they have known both failure and success. Failure teaches us to not fear the contempt of others. Success teaches us not to trust the applause of others. When contempt and applause no longer move your heart to hide or strive, then you are ready to ask the question, “What will please you, God?”[4]
[1] Christianity Today, “A Splintered Generation” by Skyler R. Flowers and Michael Graham, May/June 2025, 38.
[2] Hebrews 6:10, NIV.
[3] Iain Provan, NIV Application Commentary: Ecclesiastes/Song of Songs (Zondervan, 2001), 192.
[4] Dan Allender, Leading with a Limp (Colorado Springs: Waterbrook, 2006), 135.