Walking With Christ

Ecclesiastes 10:2  A wise man’s heart inclines him to the right, but a fool’s heart to the left.(ESV)

Yesterday’s warning was about the danger of small folly.  Dead flies can make costly ointment stink.  A little folly can outweigh wisdom and honor.  Small compromises aren’t harmless just because they’re small.  But Solomon doesn’t stop with the damage folly can cause.  He presses deeper.  He turns our attention toward the direction of the heart.

A wise man’s heart inclines him one way.  A fool’s heart inclines him another.  That word matters.

Inclination isn’t usually sudden.  It’s a leaning.  It’s a bend.  It’s the quiet direction of the inner life before the outward action becomes visible.  The hand reaches after the heart has already leaned.  The mouth speaks after the heart has already turned.  The decision appears in the moment, but the direction was often forming long before anyone else could see it.

That’s why small folly deserves attention.

A careless word may not be only a careless word.  It may reveal a heart growing comfortable with harshness.  A small compromise may not be only a small compromise.  It may reveal a heart learning to excuse disobedience.  A hidden resentment may not be only a passing frustration.  It may reveal a heart beginning to love bitterness more than peace.

Before we turn this verse into modern politics, we need to slow down.  Solomon wasn’t talking about Republicans and Democrats.  He was speaking with the language of wisdom.  The right hand was commonly understood as the place of strength, honor, and favor.  The point isn’t party allegiance.  The point is heart direction.

Wisdom has a direction.  Folly does too.  The wise heart isn’t perfect, but it is teachable.  It leans toward correction.  It leans toward humility.  It leans toward restraint.  It leans toward obedience.  It doesn’t love being corrected, but it’s willing to be corrected.  The foolish heart leans away.  It resists correction.  It defends itself too quickly.  It excuses what should be confessed.  It treats warnings like attacks.  It wants the appearance of wisdom without the surrender wisdom requires.  That’s where the real danger sits.

The dead fly in the ointment may be small, but it may also be honest.  It may show us something about what’s been allowed into the jar.  It may reveal a place where the heart has started leaning in the wrong direction.  That shouldn’t lead us to despair.  It should lead us to examine ourselves honestly before God.

Where has my heart been leaning?  Toward wisdom, or toward folly?  Toward humility, or toward pride?  Toward peace, or toward resentment?  Toward obedience, or toward excuse-making?  Toward Christ, or toward myself?

The wise person doesn’t wait until the whole life turns before paying attention to the lean.  They bring the heart before God while the drift is still small.