Introduction
Woe, says the writer of Ecclesiastes, is the one who, because he walks alone, has no one to help him when he falls. “If two walk together and one falls,” however, he explains, “the other will pick him up” (Ecclesiastes 4:9). Certainly, this was so in the experience of Job. While we often foreground—and not wrongly so—the faithfulness of Job (that is, his refusal to budge in the face of extreme adversity), we do not talk as much about the great support he got from being in company with good friends, even if many of their arguments were built on wrong premises. It is not to say that Job’s faithfulness was contingent on his friends’ company—in any case, he shunned the company of his wife, when she proposed a stupid remedy: “Curse God and die” (Job 2:9)—but that being in the company of friends at that crucial moment of his life was beneficial in ways that mayn’t be too obvious.
Job’s friends, their erroneous doctrine regardless, did make very profound statements. It was Eliphaz who taught us how God catches the wise in their craftiness and how we ought not despise the discipline of the Lord, for “Blessed is the man whom God corrects” (Job 5:17). For those who would simplify the ways of God, Zophar has a speech at the ready: “Can you fathom the mysteries of God? Can you probe the limits of the Almighty?” (Job 11:7). Bildad reminded Job that God does not pervert justice; neither does the Almighty pervert what is right (Job 8:3). The main problem with these three gentlemen, to my mind, was their flawed theory of suffering as the inevitable lot of the evil man; and, consequently, that Job’s claim to innocence was not only deceptive but sinful.
There was a fifth person in this company, of whom we hear nothing until the thirty-second chapter: the young Elihu the Buzite. How old he was we know not, but we do know that he was the youngest in the company. Which is why he offered to Job’s other friends the courtesy of speaking first. He was keeping with an admonishment that Paul was yet to give in Romans 13:7: “Render to all what is due them”, whether respect, fear or honour. For Elihu, since Eliphaz, Bildad and Zophar were older, they would have the words of wisdom appropriate for Job and his situation. “Age”, said he to himself, “should speak; advanced years should teach wisdom” (Job 32:7).
But he had to revise this assumption before long. After their ranting, Elihu was forced to reconsider whether they were indeed deserving of the courtesy he had accorded them. Elihu, too, was such a profound orator. Look how beautifully he explains the fact that God speaks in Job 33:14-18. In fact, his opening is too beautiful to summarize:
“I thought, ‘Age should speak; advanced years should teach wisdom…’ But it is the spirit in a man, the breath of the Almighty, that gives him understanding. It is not only the old who are wise, not only the aged who understand what is right” (Job 32:7-9).
We shall attempt today to enrol in the school of Elihu, particularly in the course on “Great Men and Wisdom.” We will try to understand who these great men are, why they are by default considered wise, but why they are not always so. Most importantly, we will try to stretch Elihu’s argument a little farther than he had intended, in order to arrive at the conclusion of why the pursuit of Christlikeness is the safest thing a Christian can commit to.
Who is a Great Man?
First, then, who are these great men? “Great men” as used by Elihu can easily be rendered as “people in authority”, and who, as a result of this, have (or are by default accorded) the power/ right to give orders or make decisions. They are perceived experts. The source of their greatness, and hence their authority, could be their social status: they may be wealthy, they may be presidents, professors (and maybe with several publications), or they may be married. Or they may just be old, as we see in the case of Job and his friends. Great men could also include people who are adept in something. Naaman and Abner were seen as great men because of their military exploits (2 Kings 5:1; 2 Sam. 3:38). Spiritual authority also counts here. Men of God, by virtue of their position in the kingdom of God are great men in the sense that they are people of authority. But most importantly, greatness is relative; it is constructed differently across time and space. It is therefore a doing of Sisyphus’ work to attempt to list all the sources from which people attain the title “great men.” What can be agreed on, however, regardless of the varied constructions of greatness, is that once people attain perceived greatness, they attract unusual respect, especially from people who have not as yet attained such statuses. These great men then become authorities, sometimes role models, and people tend to hang on their every word.
A Great Man’s Wisdom
Elihu was not disputing the wisdom of these so-called great men. Nor was he telling us to totally disregard great men. He was acknowledging two interlinked points. First, that great men are in some cases wise. And, second (although implicitly, and ensuing from the first point), that this basic assumption of correlating greatness and wisdom subtly (i.e., sometimes without our realizing it) lies behind many of our actions and inactions. In academia, for example, the credibility of a research paper tends to be judged, among other things, by who is cited and who is not. Write an illuminating paper on Greek philosophy, reveal very deep insights, but don’t cite Plato, Socrates or Aristotle. It is unlikely that your work will go anywhere. There’s an exception, of course. If you’re perceived to be a greater authority than these seminal philosophers, you’ll be afforded the allowance. But take another example: the Russia-Ukraine saga. It is not singers, but international relations experts who are constantly being interviewed by media houses to analyse the situation. Why do we usually prefer certain (well-known and sometimes very expensive brands of) electronic appliances to other (obscure and sometimes cheaper) ones? Why, in development theory, do Western conceptions of development tend to be generally privileged over development concepts from Third-World countries?
Great Men Are Not Always Wise
Thus, Elihu agrees that it is not totally unjustifiable to expect wisdom from great men. Yet, his caveat is with regards with the frequency: great men are not always wise; and hence, it would be folly to overstretch this assumption. Why so? Well, first, because God makes men fools. As repulsive as this may sound, it is not inconsistent with the Scriptures. The God who has deprived the ostrich of wisdom and given her no understanding (Job 39:17) also closes the minds of people to understanding (Job 17:4), silences the lips of trusted advisers and takes away the discernment of elders (Job 12:20). Jesus, after his disciples returned from their soulwinning exploits, thanked the Father for hiding certain truths from the wise and learned, but revealing them to children (Matt. 11:25).
This means that God does not only make “wise” men fools, but hides wisdom among those we mayn’t consider great/ wise. Look at the irony of Jesus’ triumphant entry into Jerusalem. The crowds and children cheered; the chief priests and teachers of the law jeered. Jesus’ rebuttal? “Out of the lips of children and infants, you have ordained praise” (Matt. 21:16). This was a reflection of a greater irony, namely that Jesus’ ministry tended to be accepted by the riffraff (i.e., so-seen from the point of view of the Pharisees and teachers of the law), rather than those who (because of their supposed superior knowledge of the Scriptures), should have accepted Jesus all the more readily. Arguing along these lines, Paul reminds us that if the rulers of this world were wise (indeed, they were wise according to the standards of this earth, but not according to the wisdom of God), they would not have crucified Jesus (1 Cor. 1:7,8). God used their foolishness to establish his wisdom. Solomon also understood that great men are not always wise. Otherwise, why does he ask the sluggard—a full human being (nonetheless), created in the very image of God, and therefore, the crown of God’s creation—to go and learn hard work and wisdom from the ant (Prov. 6:6-8)?
But, second, great men are not always wise because contrary to what we’re accustomed to assume, greatness in itself does not make a person wise. Wisdom is not attained through greatness (at least in its worldly conception). I mean that we often feel, especially when we need something, that the one who already has it is best qualified to help us get it too. If it is the ambition of a secondary school student to practice as a medical doctor, for example, it is more likely that they take the advice of an established medical doctor rather than, say, their colleague. But this assumption is sometimes too wrong. Although indeed, everyone can share their experiences on how they attained something, not everyone, in my opinion, has the wisdom to decode the exact circumstances leading to that achievement. Besides, if great men are honest, they would admit that it is not always the case that it is possible to put a finger on a specific factor leading to greatness. Perhaps, this is better explained in a story. Recently, a gentleman who was applying to the graduate program I am currently enrolled in asked me what made my application stand out, and, hence, led to my selection. Tricky question. There were many things to highlight. Publications, maybe? Some important points I made in my motivation letter? My CV? I responded that I did not know. I was not on the admissions committee. What if I was selected in part because of a need to achieve a gender/ geographical/ disciplinary balance? What if I was offered admission only because the more qualified applicants rejected the offer of admission? What if it was purely a matter of grace? Or a combination of some or all these factors? Without having authoritative information from the admissions committee, I could easily have stated a completely wrong factor (in the worst case) or overemphasized/ understated a factor (at best). And needless to say, this could have had terrible ramifications, given that this person regarded me as an authority—a great man. This happens too often in real life and in different ways.
To expand the preceding point, let me add the point on the limitedness of our powers of perception as human beings. I have argued elsewhere (although speaking specifically about how we share testimonies in church) for example, about how we can easily mistake correlation for causation. We see through a film darkly, Paul says (1 Cor. 13:12). There are no exceptions. A Samuel, with years of experience of walking with God, can make the genuine mistake of attempting to anoint Eliab, instead of David, as king of Israel (1 Samuel 16:6). This shows that the fact that someone is in authority, in itself, contrary to popular opinion, does not make them mistake-proof, even on matters regarding their bailiwick. This our tendency, therefore, of putting people in advisory positions because of some level of greatness they have attained needs to be balanced with vigilance and the understanding that great men are not always wise.
The problem with this topic of great men and wisdom is that not only do we often attribute to great men an inflated sense of authority. Often, these great men present themselves as deserving of such authority, when they would have done better to question the grounds on which they’re accorded this authority. Sometimes, great men arrogantly accept the assumption that their achievements are self-evident of their wisdom. It is this maddening arrogance that one finds lurking behind Western theories of development, in which the West, assuming a monopoly over development, bestows on itself the authority to prescribe development models for so-called Third-World countries. What is more annoying is that these models are often silent on the fact that Western development has been made possible to a large extent by the West’s exploitation of other civilizations, primarily through the slave trade and (neo)colonialism. To these so-called experts of development, therefore, Elihu’s course is vital: “great men are not always wise.”
But let me add a third point to support Elihu’s claim. We have made the point that greatness is usually socially constructed. But worldly greatness is different from God’s kind of greatness. It is helpful to remember that similar to the point that God makes men fools, and that greatness in itself doesn’t denote wisdom, greatness (i.e., worldly greatness) is possible to achieve despite being a fool. If a man is a fool but becomes rich tomorrow, he is not necessarily none the wiser. That a fool is very old does not necessarily make him qualified to advise the young. That a fool is very rich does not mean he qualifies to advise the poor. Foolish kings (Ecclesiastes 4:13-15), rich fools (such as Nabal, whose own wife testified about this; and the famous rich fool whose soul was demanded by God), and foolish teachers (i.e., the Pharisees, whom Jesus rebuked in Matthew 23), regardless of their status, are still fools. He dabbles in greater folly who takes their word without sifting because they are in positions of authority.
A final support for Elihu’s argument. Great men are not always wise because great men can be wise as touching some issues. A pastor may be able to give great advice when it comes to making ministerial choices. But this does not mean that he can give equally sound advice regarding career choices. My pastor has often shared an interesting story about how he encouraged his in-law to build a storey-building on a foundation that would not have supported it. He realized later that although he was an expert when it came to the Christian foundation, the growth pillars and maturity beams, he was not as knowledgeable when it came to actual building systems. And since knowledge is required for understanding, and consequently wisdom, he could not at that point offer the required wisdom for the situation at hand. So Elihu could also have meant that although the other friends of Job were older and could probably display wisdom in many other fields, in the matter of Job’s adversity, they were not displaying the expected wisdom.
Implications
So, what do all these mean in very practical terms? First, no matter how great (we think) a person is, subjecting their words/ actions to rigorous testing should not be considered out of place. In fact, great people should be at the forefront of creating this space for others. The Bereans are excellent models. Despite the reputation of Paul, they subjected his words to the litmus paper of the Scriptures (Acts 17:11). To accept the soundness of something because it is done or said by a person in authority is danger. Some situations may actually demand thanking great men for their advice, but deciding to do differently than they prescribe. This lesson would have been handy for the young prophet from Judah (1 Kings 13). We must always crosscheck, always probe, always turn things over, always discern, always judge, and most importantly, always test based on the truth of the Scriptures rather than lazily swallowing everything offered by great men (1 Thess. 5:21; 1 John 4:1). Conversely, great men (especially as far as Christianity is concerned) should give the opportunity for others to test what they’re saying. There are those who want all they say to be accepted wholly, who tolerate no dissent, treat disagreement as disloyalty (to whom should the Christian’s loyalty be to? Men?), who will accept no attempt at nuancing their arguments (unless by an apparently greater person), and who, if you try to reason with, will try to inferiorize your arguments by emphasizing how much they have achieved more than you. Certainly, they have not enrolled in Elihu’s academy as yet.
The second implication touches the manner in which we tend to deify human beings, specifically men of God. As Paul has told us, respect, fear and honour should be accorded those who deserve them (Rom. 13:7). But deity, and hence infallibility is God’s alone. This should be common sense, and yet one is surprised at the tendency among certain Christians to accept absurd teachings/ prescriptions just because a certain great man of God said it. The possibility that the great man of God could be wrong is totally dismissed, not once considered. If you try to argue, they raise the rhetorical shield, “Touch not my anointed” (Psalm 105:15). But we know that a Peter can act hypocritically (Gal. 2:11-13); that Paul, who received much mercy although he persecuted the church, and who tells us that love keeps no record of wrong (1 Cor. 13:5) can hand over Alexander to Satan (1 Tim. 1:20) and ask that the Lord repay him (2 Tim. 4:14). As we have seen, a Samuel can attempt to anoint Eliab, rather than David. An Abraham can lie to Abimelech and Pharaoh. Should we respect them? Definitely! Should we imitate them fully? Should we agree with them (and their actions) completely? Should we justify ostensibly wrong actions just because they were done by great men? I know of no greater folly. Apostles, prophets, evangelists, pastors are teachers, truly, are men of God, but they are still men, nonetheless. Selective imitation of great men, heroes of our faith inclusive, is imperative. To begin from the premise that every godly person in the Scripture is totally copiable is dangerous.
Finally, to think that wisdom is only to be found among certain circles alone is wrong. Sometimes, it is from the ant, not the lion, that we can learn wisdom. Peter walked with Jesus in the flesh; Paul did not. Yet, it took Paul (the latecomer, as it is usually said among the Akans) to rebuke Peter for the latter’s hypocrisy. Who said the more experienced man of God cannot learn anything from a younger minister? It behoves us to develop an attitude of respect for people in categories we don’t usually associate greatness with.
My conclusion? Relentless pursuit of Christlikeness is the safest thing a Christian can do. Christlikeness is not only the beau ideal of life, not only the highest pinnacle of glory achievable by man. It is also the safest thing to do with/ in life. The wisdom of Christ, as a great man—indeed the greatest man—is totally trustable. While of other great men, we may say that “great men are not always wise”, I believe Elihu would hasten to tell us that this argument does not apply to he who is the power and wisdom of God (1 Cor. 1:24) and in whom are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge (Col. 2:3). Consequently, the wisdom of all other great men should keep being subjected to the superior wisdom of Christ.