Talking too much (and not enough) --the fool at the gate

“For a fool wisdom is an inaccessible fortress;

at the city gate he does not open his mouth…”

--Proverbs 24:7

Because I was thinking about talking too much in my last mediation, this verse about the fool not opening his mouth seemed an appropriate follow-up.

Here is a little vision of my reading process:

When I read this the first time, I thought: the first clause (before the semi-colon) is perfectly obvious: the “fool” knows of the kingdom of wisdom but cannot find any way to enter it. The gates are locked, the draw bridge is pulled up, the walls are too high, and maybe there is a shark infested moat surrounding it.

But then, there is that part after the semi-colon about being at the city gate and not opening his mouth. As I read it initially, I thought it was a sign of the fool’s untapped wisdom:  he doesn’t open his mouth.  For a fool that could be a good thing. He doesn’t have any wisdom to offer, so he keeps his mouth shut.

I don’t know if my mind was wandering, but I was treating each part as a separate, almost unrelated, statement.  It was as if I had wandered out of the metaphor the author was creating (a fortress) and into the streets leading up to a common city where people gathered at the gate to talk and share news and greet one another—to begin the business of the day.  And in my imagination, there was this fool with his clothed mouth, experiencing the benefits of restraint. No wisdom to share, nothing to say. Just listening and learning.

But then, realizing that this didn’t seem to make sense, I looked back and realized that the city gate comes within the context of the metaphor of the fortress of Wisdom. And then I realized that the reason the fool cannot access the kingdom is because he will not open his mouth; he won’t ask to be let in. He’s too foolish to ask for access. It perfectly dramatizes the depths of his foolishness:  this is a person who doesn’t even know enough to ask for help.

The second part of the statement develops the first.  Now, to most people this may seem rather obvious in itself, but for me (a librarian and writer) it is a lesson I am always having to relearn.

At moments like this, I wonder if anyone else reads like me; as carelessly, as foolishly.  And I wonder if my carless reading comes from lack of focus, from being unable to shut down all those voice in my head and just attend to the moment (the word on the page).  This sounds like an odd struggle for a writer to have, getting lost midway through a short sentence. I wonder if it is related to talking too much?  To those voices in my head that are constantly trying to interpret and decipher and dissect each and every situation, experience as if I were constantly trying to discover some hidden coded truth, constantly trying to prove myself, to justify my existence?  

And so –I will write one more thought –nay two-- then then hold my tongue; reading this passage I come away with 2 lessons:

1. There is wisdom to be found in remaining silent, or as Proverbs says:

If the fool holds his tongue, he may pass for wise. (17:28)

2. And there is wisdom in speaking out. When you are standing at Wisdom’s gate, don’t be afraid to open your mouth and reveal you are a fool in need of assistance.  It’s the only way you will be able to ask for help.

3. (okay –one more) And where better might we find the gates of the Kingdom of Wisdom, than in God’s word. So, when you are reading The Bible, don’t be a fool, humble your heart, open your mouth and ask for help.  In fact, the author is right there standing at the gate, waiting for you.  Just say the word and He will open the gate and let you in.

Talking too much

“…whoever talks too much is lost…”

--Proverbs 13:36

I hear chastisement in this proverb.  In my heart, I hear a voice saying: that is me.  I am someone who talks too much. Sometimes it is even out loud.  I think it has something to do with nerves, anxiety, self-consciousness. I am so concerned about appearances, about what people will think of me, that I can’t stop talking, can’t stop chattering away –in an attempt to distract people, to hide in a cloud of jokes and cleverness the truth of who and what I am.  Creating a kind of smoke screen of words and noise, I hide not only from others, but also from myself.

Sometimes the “talking too much” is me trying to cover up a mistake I’ve made, or a pettiness I’ve done –trying to talk my way out of responsibility for it.  And other times it is me trying to justify something I want to do; trying to talk myself into it, even when I know it would be wrong –or should I say, especially when I know it will be wrong.  But in either case it is a sign that I I am lost—I have lost my way.  That seems like a pretty nice little piece of psychological insight to come from the pen of some ancient primitive scribe (or king).

But something else that interested me in this proverb was its more mundane truth.  There is –I think—an observable phenomenon being described here, a physiological and psychological truth observed and recorded. When people get lost, take a wrong turn on the road, take the wrong exit on the freeway, or just turn down the wrong hallway in an unfamiliar building, they begin to “talk too much.” One of the first things that happens when we realize we are lost, is that justifying voice in our head kicks in and starts running on overdrive.  That is a perfect description of the sensation of panic that sets in when we realize we are lost.  The voice in our head begins to ‘talk too much,” and that begins to cloud our thinking.  If we let it, that talk will keep us lost, even lead us further astray.  And until we are able to calm ourselves down, to quiet that talk, we can’t look at our situation logically, can’t figure out how to do something as simple as retrace our steps and get ourselves un-lost.

There is a lot of wisdom in this book of Proverbs.  Books like this are too easily ignored or dismissed as not intended for reading straight through.  But what I am finding is that there is a richness in every part of scripture –in all its many literary forms—a richness that rewards reading (and rereading). A richness that roots itself in the soul, and rewards not only with wisdom, and insight, but with a joy and a beautiful flowering calm that stills the voices of anxiety, of uncertainty, of confusion and bears fruit in peace and quiet and the security that is faith.