Wine Inebriation: Representation of Judah’s Cultural Trauma in Proverbs 23:29–35

Abstract

Regarding Judah’s exilic realities and forced migration experience, this article proposes that the sage responsible for this poem functioned as a carrier group in articulating a narrative of collective trauma. The paper begins by summarizing key components of cultural trauma theory as developed by Jeffrey C. Alexander. It also situates the shared socio-historical context of the final textual forms of Jeremiah and Proverbs within the exilic/post-exilic realities of the Judahite community. It next traces the trope of wine inebriation across several Jeremiah texts, focusing especially on Jeremiah 25:15–29 to show how this motif is integrally woven into the book’s overarching themes of indictment, judgment, and exile. A conventional wisdom reading of Proverbs 23:29–35 yields a moralistic warning about the self-destructive cycle of wine intoxication of the fools in the book of Proverbs. But a cultural trauma hermeneutic of the poem—when paired with intertextual echoes of Jeremiah 25:15–29—opens the poem to a deeper reading. Within this framework, the sapiential poem emerges as a creative, dramatic and theologically rich act of trauma storytelling, depicting foolish Judah’s metaphorical intoxication as an embodiment of exilic indictment, woes and suffering, yet gesturing toward the possibility of healing and restoration through wisdom reflection and re-narration of their past.

1. Introduction

The motif of wine and drunkenness among the leaders and people of Judah recurs throughout the book of Jeremiah. What is particularly striking is the way in which wine debauchery is repeatedly associated with Judah’s moral failure and its consequent forced migration to Babylon. This convergence of drunkenness and exile necessarily entails trauma and suffering. Accordingly, this study poses the following research question: insofar as Proverbs 23:29–35, even at a surface-level reading, already exhibits a convergence of wine inebriation, moral failure, and suffering, may this poem be read as a cultural trauma text?

This article will show how Proverbs 23:29–35 is a culturally embedded meaning-making poem that reflects Judah’s traumatic experience of exile. Foundational to this analysis is the literary method of intertextuality—the interpretive practice of reading two or more texts in dialogue. By definition, intertextual reading involves both diachronic and synchronic approaches. This study adopts a more modest, synchronic intertextual approach—one that functions as a hermeneutical aid rather than a historical claim. It assumes that the meaning of a text is never produced in isolation but within a broader literary and interpretive context, which includes what lies behind, within, and in front of the text. The analysis seeks to correlate two seemingly disparate but interrelated texts (Carroll 1993), bringing them into conversation through a shared lens of cultural trauma and within the same post-exilic socio-historical milieu.

Moreover, this reading does not negate the canonical-exegetical interpretation of the poem as a sapiential warning against drunkenness. Hermeneutically, it proposes a layered reading in which the text’s sapiential instruction is held together with its symbolic and cultural-trauma dimensions. By situating the poem within a wider intertextual and post-exilic horizon, this approach opens space for a richer and more generative interpretation without undermining its exegetical integrity. The pages that follow demonstrate how, in poetic form, the sage in Proverbs 23:29–35 reveals the essential features of collective trauma—its nature, its victims, its causes and consequences, and the assignment of responsibility. This essay thus offers a cultural trauma-sensitive reading of the poem, foregrounding how the trauma motif intersects with Proverbs’ broader conduct–consequence theology, a hallmark of wisdom tradition.

The essay begins by establishing the theoretical framework of cultural trauma studies, which serves as the trauma hermeneutic guiding the poem’s interpretation. The second section situates the final form of the Book of Proverbs within the post-exilic socio-historical context of ancient Judah, supporting the reading of Proverbs 23:29–35 as a trauma text, wherein the sage functions as a representative of the trauma-bearing community (the “carrier group”). The third section examines the conceptual trope of drunkenness both as reason for and consequence of drinking YHWH’s cup of wrath; drawing upon the intertextual resonance with Jeremiah 25:15–29, where wine inebriation symbolically enacts divine judgment and exilic suffering. Building on this intertextual link between YHWH’s wine cup and Judah’s forced migration, the final section argues that the wine inebriation in Proverbs 23:29–35 serves as the sage’s dramatic and poetic representation of cultural trauma, marked by communal disorientation and indictment. At the same time, through the lens of wisdom reflection, the poem implicitly communicates the possibility of communal sobriety and restoration in the aftermath of trauma.

2. Contemporary Studies on Cultural Trauma

The reading of Proverbs 23:29–35 is informed and theorized through Jeffrey C. Alexander’s framework of cultural trauma. In Cultural Trauma and Collective Identity, Alexander defines cultural trauma as an event that “occurs when members of a collectivity feel they have been subjected to a horrendous event that leaves indelible marks upon their group consciousness, marking their memories forever and changing their future identity in fundamental and irrevocable ways” (Alexander 2004). Unpacking this definition reveals several essential components of cultural trauma hermeneutics. These elements serve as the analytical lens through which we interpret how Proverbs 23:29–35 may function as a poetic and theological representation of Judah’s collective trauma in the wake of exile.

First, central to this concept is the distinction between the historical event itself and its representation as traumatic. Such representation, understood as an interpretive and meaning-making process, may emerge during the event, shortly thereafter, or more commonly at a temporal distance from the event itself. Alexander writes,

First and foremost, we maintain that events do not, in and of themselves, create collective trauma. Events are not inherently traumatic. Trauma is a socially mediated attribution. The attribution may be made in real time, as an event unfolds; it may also be made before the event occurs, as an adumbration, or after the event has concluded, as a post-hoc reconstruction.

(Alexander 2004)

Second, the psychological-cognitive process of forming this collective traumatic representation is what constitutes “experiencing trauma.” This experience is not limited to firsthand suffering but is imaginatively constructed, symbolically represented, and socially propagated by a so-called carrier group. Accordingly, the process of “experiencing cultural trauma” includes several core components essential to constructing a compelling master narrative: (1) the nature of the collective injury; (2) the identity of the victim group; (3) the attribution of responsibility; and (4) the material and symbolic consequences of the trauma. Trauma narratives, therefore, are not objective reports; they are often subjective, interest-driven, fragmented, and disassociated recollections of social suffering—whether historically accurate, authentic or imagined. Moreover, such collective pain shapes and is shaped by a group’s shared memory, cultural identity, and evolving process of meaning-making, often leaving behind a lasting discomfort in the collective memory (Alexander 2004).

Third, those responsible for articulating the representation of cultural trauma are known as the “carrier group”—a collective that typically holds social influence and institutional standing, thereby enhancing the persuasive power of their interpretive framing. These groups play a pivotal role in shaping how a community remembers, interprets, and responds to collective suffering. As Jeffrey C. Alexander explains, “Carrier groups are the collective agents of the trauma process. Carrier groups have both ideal and material interests in sense-making. They are the think tank situated in a particular place in the social structure. They have discursive talents for articulating their claims—for what might be called ‘meaning making’ for the greater public” (Alexander 2004, p. 11). Simply put, carrier groups do not merely describe trauma as they construct its meaning in ways that influences broader public consciousness.

3. Post-Exilic Setting of Proverbs and the Sage as Carrier Group

It is commonplace in contemporary biblical scholarship to locate the socio-historical context of much of the Hebrew Bible within the exilic and post-exilic periods. Increasingly, scholars recognize the profound impact of the fall of Jerusalem, including the Babylonian invasion, the ensuing diaspora, displacement and its long aftermath—on the material, theological, and communal life of the post-exilic Judahite community. These events, though profoundly traumatic, were formative in the shaping, transmission, and theological content of Israel’s sacred texts (Stulman 2014; Middlemas 2007).

Many scholars argue that the book of Proverbs shares a similar compositional and dating trajectory with other biblical texts shaped during the exilic and post-exilic periods (cf. Boström 1990, for a dissenting view). While the dating of Proverbs 23:29–35 remains underexplored, it is plausible, though difficult to prove, that some aphorisms and individual poems originated in the pre-exilic period. However, the final form of the book, as preserved in the Masoretic Text, is widely understood to reflect the concerns of a post-exilic Second Temple audience. Daniel Smith-Christopher argues that Proverbs should be read as wisdom literature for a displaced and minority community, shaped by the trauma of exile. He writes, “this literature is the ‘wisdom’ of the minority group that particularly focuses on lessons in ‘how to survive’” (Smith-Christopher 1997, 2002). This approach invites us to consider not only what the text means, but also how it functions for the community that preserved it, and for those it sought to shape. It highlights the polysemous and layered character of Proverbs within its socio-historical context.

Ronald Clements, writing prior to and independent from Daniel Smith-Christopher, also argues for a post-exilic social setting of wisdom literature in general, and the book of Proverbs in particular. Drawing on Victor Turner’s concept of liminality which was developed in the study of rites of passage, Clements proposes a compelling theoretical model for understanding the life situation reflected in Proverbs. His framework positions the post-exilic Judahite community at a threshold of national transition, marked by the collapse of central institutions and the resulting social and psychological dislocation. This model aligns closely with cultural trauma theory, highlighting a period of profound insecurity and ethical reflection, which Proverbs may be seen to address. Clements writes,

It is also our argument that it was at this time [post-exilic era] that wisdom came to make its most meaningful and lasting contribution to Israel’s intellectual life. The reason for this is not difficult to find, for it was in this period that Israel was forced to make the transition from being a nation-state to becoming a scattered diaspora among many nations. Whereas Israelite religion had originally reflected Israel’s national identity, the newly emerging religion of Judaism was of necessity forced to be more international in character.

(Clements 1992)

The next logical question concerns the identity of the sages responsible for the oral transmission, compilation, and redaction of Proverbs 23:29–35 during the post-exilic period. While scholars remain unable to pinpoint their historical identities, it is still reasonable to inquire into the social provenance and voice behind the text. Katharine Dell argues that Proverbs reflects two key social settings: the royal/educational sphere and the family context. She writes,

I concluded, therefore, in relation to social context in Proverbs as a whole, that one could subdivide the book of Proverbs into two sets of clearly different social contexts: the more overtly educational context, with possible courtly/kingly links and more emphasis on the written stage of the material (in relation to the texts just mentioned); and the family/folk/tribal context, with a more general ethical character and oral nature, in 10:1–22:16; 24:23–34; 25–29 and 30:15–33.

(Dell 2006)

The educational and courtly background of Proverbs 23:29–35 as part of the larger unit Proverbs 22:17–24:22 aligns with scholarly consensus that this section shares a literary relationship with the Egyptian Instructions of Amenemope. The sage behind the Instructions of Amenemope is believed to have been a royal court scribe, indicating a context of elite scribal training and social status (Dell 2006).

Given that post-exilic Judah no longer had a national king or royal court under Persian rule, the question arises: what kind of scribes were responsible for the production and transmission of wisdom texts? While the evidence is limited, Lester Grabbe suggests that authoritative writings were likely produced by the priesthood, who also served as interpreters of Scripture. Over time, however, scribes, though not necessarily priests, emerged as recognized authorities in scriptural matters (Grabbe 2013). Grabbe further identifies three types of scribes in the post-Babylonian period: Those directly involved in temple cultic life; those who assisted Persian administration, and those who may have had some temple affiliation but were primarily responsible for producing and copying religious literature, such as Qoheleth or Ben Sira (Grabbe 2021).

For example, Rebekah Welton situates the wine prohibition within Israel’s cultic context, suggesting the involvement of the cultic priests (Welton 2020). While Welton frames the scribe within a temple setting, the poem’s literary alignment with the Egyptian Instructions of Amenemope more plausibly places scribe in a courtly and pedagogical context, consistent with Grabbe’s third category of scribe—those responsible for producing and copying religious literature. That said, the poem itself remains generic and unspecific, making it unnecessary to dogmatically fix its scribal origin or setting.

Consequently, since the poem belongs to Israel’s wisdom tradition, its scribe understood as a “sage” can be viewed as a representative of the carrier group responsible for its composition and transmission. Following Smith-Christopher (2002), we may further surmise that the so-called “wisdom warriors” were historical figures who actively integrated wisdom traditions into cultural trauma sense-making. The convergence of liminality, cultural trauma, and wisdom offers a compelling interpretive lens, as the post-exilic Judahite community sought to understand the meaning of the destruction, exile, and displacement (Perdue 1981).

4. The Trope of Drunkenness, Moral Failure and YHWH’s Cup of Wrath in Prophetic Tradition

A detailed exegesis of all related prophetic texts is beyond the scope of this essay, so a brief thematic overview will suffice. In the Hebrew Bible, wine and drinking carry both positive and negative connotations, but drunkenness often symbolizes not only literal excess but also spiritual and moral disorientation—particularly among rulers, priests, and prophets (e.g., Isa 5:11–12; 28:7–8; Jer 13:12–14). Notably, the Hebrew homonyms škr (drunkenness) and šqr (deceit) are often woven together into a single literary indictment of Judah’s corrupt leaders and wayward people (Bautch 2017).

Among the many biblical texts on wine inebriation, Jeremiah 25:15–29 stands out for its extended narrative on drunkenness. While some debate whether the prophet literally enacted this symbolic action by visiting the nations (Erzberger 2015), I follow Robert Carroll in reading it as a literary construction (Carroll 1986). Nevertheless, its use of wine and drunkenness is grounded in Israel’s socio-historical reality. The text mirrors cultural trauma dynamics, using drunkenness as a symbolic framework to process the experience of exile and displacement. The passage unfolds in three parts: (1) YHWH’s instruction for Jeremiah to make the nations drink the cup of wrath (vv. 15–16); (2) Jeremiah’s performance (vv. 17–26); and (3) YHWH’s explanation of the act (vv. 27–29).

Overall, from Jeremiah 25:15–29 and others emerge a striking conceptual metaphor of YHWH as winemaker summarized below:

First, YHWH is portrayed as the active divine agent. The cup of wine and the drunkenness it induces is depicted as being prepared by YHWH’s own hand. Elsewhere, YHWH is portrayed as the vintner who cultivates the vineyard and produces the wine (cf. Isa 5:1–6). Observe the following, emphasis added.

For in the hand of the Lord there is a cup

with foaming wine, well mixed,

he will pour a draught from it,

and all the wicked of the earth

shall drain it down to the dregs.

(Psa. 75:8)

Rouse yourself, rouse yourself!

Stand up, O Jerusalem,

you who have drunk at the hand of the LORD

the cup of his wrath,

who have drunk to the dregs

the cup of staggering.

(Isa. 51:17)

Furthermore, Jack Lundbom situates the act of wine drinking within a banquet setting, highlighting its international scope and YHWH’s role as host. He notes, “Jeremiah here reports a vision in which he saw YHWH hosting a banquet for the nations, and where he was appointed the server of wine” (Lundbom 2004). This banquet is further identified as a wedding celebration through references to “bride and groom” and “sounds of joy and gladness” (Jer 25:10–11).

Second, the cup of wine serves as a potent metaphor for YHWH’s wrath and judgment (cf. Ps 75:7–8; Isa 51:17). Jeremiah 25:16 declares, “They shall drink and stagger and go out of their minds because of the sword that I am sending among them” (see also vv. 27, 29). The imagery of wine coupled with the sword intensifies the portrayal of divine retribution. This is no ordinary banquet—it is a grim parody of hospitality. Rather than offering joy, the wine induces sickness, madness, and destruction. The traditional image of a gracious host is inverted, underscoring the severity of the judgment that awaits the nations.

To intensify the portrayal of divine chastisement, Babylon, Judah’s enemy is explicitly labeled as the golden cup in YHWH’s hand in Jeremiah 51:7:

Babylon was a golden cup in the Lord’s hand,

making all the earth drunken;

the nations drank of her wine,

and so the nations went mad.

To be sure, this pejorative view of the cup and wine drinking is prevalent in the prominent prophetic texts quoted above and in others: Psa 75:7–8; Isa 5:11–12; 28:7–8; 51:17–23; Jer 13:12–14; 25:15–29; 48:26 (Moab); and 49:12–13 (Edom). Similarly, the wrath or judgment of YHWH is metaphorically described as drinking poisoned water or a bitter drink that intoxicates as in Jer 8:14; 9:15; 23:15; Lam 4:21 (Edom); Ezek 23:31–33; and Hab 2:15–16 (McKane 1980). This divine judgment has both immediate and eschatological implications.

Third, the cup of wine symbolizing YHWH’s wrath is poured out on both Judah and the surrounding nations (cf. Ps 75:8; Jer 25:15). In Jeremiah 25:17–26, the list begins with Judah and proceeds to Egypt, Philistia, Edom, Moab, Ammon, and ends with the “kings of the north”—possibly including Babylon itself (v. 26) (Holt 2011). Similarly, Isaiah 51:22–23 indicates that once Jerusalem has drained the cup, it will be handed to her tormentors. This wide scope underscores that the metaphor of the wine cup consistently depicts divine punishment and destruction across nations, emphasizing YHWH’s moral governance over all peoples.

Fourth, though wine is usually desirable, this cup is both repulsive and unavoidable. Those forced to drink it resist yet cannot escape it.

And if they refuse to accept the cup from your hand to drink,

then you shall say to them:

Thus says the Lord of hosts: You must drink!

(Jer 25:28)

For thus says the Lord: If those who do not deserve to drink

the cup still has to drink it, shall you be the one to go unpunished?

You shall not go unpunished; you must drink it.

(Jer 49:12)

Finally, like the judgments of sword, famine, and pestilence, this cup of wine produces visible and bodily effects—staggering, trembling, collapse, and death (cf. Isa 51:17, 22; Jer 25:27). It causes vomiting and falling, leaving people unable to rise. As with exile, this dissipation brings public shame, guilt, and ruin, making them objects of horror and scorn (Jer 25:18). The physical effects of intoxication, coupled with the socio-psychological disgrace, serve as potent metaphors for Judah’s Babylonian punishment and the trauma it inflicted.

5. Representation of Cultural Trauma of Exile in Proverbs 23:29–35

In Proverbs, wine-induced drunkenness characterizes fools driven by greed, lack of restraint, and pleasure-seeking. This behavior leads to poverty (Prov 21:17), impaired judgment (26:9–10; 31:4–5), laziness (23:21), and conflict (20:1). For exiled Judahites, while the loss of national and religious identity left them powerless, yet they responded with remarkable creativity in interpreting their experience. The sage uses the familiar cultural motif of wine—not merely as a warning against excess, but as a poetic means of articulating Judah’s collective trauma. Drunkenness becomes a metaphor for the confusion, loss and struggle of exile.

The poem demonstrates remarkable literary ingenuity, skillfully weaving together diverse forms and genres into a unified composition (Whybray 1972). This formal hybridity mirrors the nature of cultural trauma, which seeks to reinterpret and reframe disparate memories and experiences into a coherent narrative. Trauma narratives aim to “suggest new meaningful and causal relationships between previously unrelated events, structures, perceptions, and actions” (Alexander 2004). Structurally, the poem comprises six questions (v. 29), an answer (v. 30), a negative admonition (v. 31), followed by explanatory motive clauses detailing the effects of drinking (vv. 32–34), and concludes with a speech by the addict waking from a stupor, only to seek another drink (v. 35; Van Leeuwen 1994). A wisdom-based analysis reveals a chiastic structure that aligns with the conduct–consequence logic at the heart of Proverbs’ theology (Barton 2014; Koch 1983; Hatton 2008).

A Consequence (v. 29)

B Conduct/Cause (vv. 30–31)

A’  Consequence (vv. 32–35)

While the poem can be read linearly, a cultural trauma reading reveals a circular structure—like a closed loop with no fixed beginning or end. The drunkard moves from sorrow to the seductive allure of wine, spiraling into dissipation and deeper misery, only to return to the same starting point. Each cycle intensifies, reflecting a deepening downward spiral of addiction and traumatic experience. The sage transforms trauma into moral instruction, urging wisdom and discernment to avoid repeating the folly that led to exile (cf. Prov 17:10; 26:11).

5.1. Echoes of Cultural Trauma of Exile

Proverbs 23:29–35 opens with a series of six rhetorical questions (v. 29), each using the Hebrew preposition lamed attached to interrogative pronouns (“Who has…?”). This poetic and satirical structure is designed not only to provoke introspection in the foolish drunkard but also to instruct others indirectly.

While the poem does not employ the explicit trauma lexeme ḥālāl as studied by David Garber Jr. (Garber 2011), it presents a rich collocation of six distinct terms for distress, pain, and suffering, initiated by two onomatopoetic interjections: “Woe!” (ʾôy) and “Alas!” These expressions evoke a tone of lament and disorientation. The ʾôy motif is prominent in prophetic indictments against Judah (e.g., Jer 4:13, 31; 6:4; 13:27; 30:7; Lam 5:16) and has been associated with the prophet’s despair over exile (Hildebrandt 2020). Notably, Isaiah 5:11–12 explicitly identifies drunkenness as woe-worthy. According to Gerstenberger (1962), woe-oracles announce impending doom upon evildoers and stem from a popular ethos that aligns with wisdom literature in tone, moral authority, and worldview. Thus, while rooted in prophetic speech, the sage of Proverbs appropriates the woe formula for sapiential aims—transforming a language of judgment into a didactic warning.

Additionally, the second lexeme in Proverbs 23:29—translated “Alas” (hapax legomenon) is understood in modern versions (NRSV, ESV) as an interjection expressing pain, sorrow, or unease. The third term, “strife,” conveys social or relational discord, echoing themes of alienation seen elsewhere (cf. Jer 15:10). The fourth lexeme, “complaints” (śiaḥ), denotes deep psychological grievance—a recurring term in laments and wisdom texts like Psalms and Job. The fifth expression often rendered “wounds without cause,” is commonly read as undeserved suffering; yet, interpreting it as “avoidable wounds” better fits the wisdom tradition’s emphasis on prudent avoidance of unnecessary harm. Finally, “redness of eyes” suggests a somatic symptom potentially linked to intoxication, chronic weeping, or emotional exhaustion—thus grounding psychological and moral failure in visible, bodily effects.

At first glance, the list of pains in Proverbs 23:29 may seem trivial—merely subjective or mundane symptoms of drunkenness. Yet a cultural trauma-sensitive reading invites us to interpret them through what Jeffrey Alexander calls the “nature of pain.” These rhetorical questions, emotionally charged and vividly descriptive, offer a stark portrayal of an individual’s deteriorated condition. In a single verse, physical, emotional, social, and psychological dimensions of Judah’s exilic and trauma converge. The repeated interrogative “Who…?” may reflect internalized dialogue—a search for meaning amid catastrophe—and signals an emerging self-awareness. By naming the sufferer’s condition through personal pronouns, the text prompts the community to confront, own, and re-narrate its suffering. This alignment of interrogative structure with collective pain forms a deep inquiry into identity, echoing the very heart of cultural trauma discourse.

To be sure, in Proverbs 31:6–7, the sage appears to offer a compassionate concession to those described as “perishing” or “in bitter distress,” encouraging them to drink wine. Notably, their desperate condition—marked by poverty and anguish—is presented as the very rationale for drinking. See below:

Give strong drink to one who is perishing,

and wine to those in bitter distress.

let them drink and forget their poverty,

and remember their misery no more.

While such advice may seem troubling from a wisdom-ethical perspective, a cultural trauma reading renders it more intelligible. Within this framework, wine becomes a coping mechanism: a means of dissociative numbing, temporary amnesia, and fleeting relief from pain and suffering.

5.2. Victims of Cultural Trauma

The following verses serve as the direct rejoinder to the questions of ‘who…?’ in verse 29. The answer is the drunkard fools who “linger late over wine” and “who keep trying mixed wines.”

Those who linger late over wine,

those who keep trying mixed wines.

Do not look at wine when it is red,

when it sparkles in the cup

and goes down smoothly.

(Prov. 23:30–31)

The sage employs substantive plural participles to describe those habitually engaged in the behaviors of “lingering” and “continually seeking” (v. 30; lit. “those who go in search”). Each participle is preceded by the Hebrew preposition lamed, signaling their function as direct answers to the six rhetorical questions posed in verse 29. This grammatical construction not only identifies the archetype of the persistent drinker but also links the questions to a broader typology of foolish behavior, central to wisdom discourse.

Wine drinking was a quotidian social activity, particularly among the elite—royalty and kings. Johnny Miles (2004) argues that the drunkard in this passage represents a royal figure, possibly King Solomon. Under this literary construal, “king” serves more as a symbolic title than a historical identity. Similar to the “I” in royal psalms, the drunken king may serve a dual function—both as an individual and as a representative of Israel’s collective identity. Yet kings and rulers are repeatedly warned against intoxication, as it impairs their discernment and compromises their capacity to uphold justice and righteousness—a condition aptly described as “moral blindness.” See below:

It is not for kings, O Lemuel,

it is not for kings to drink wine,

or for rulers to desire strong drink;

lest they drink and forget what has been decreed,

and pervert the rights of all the afflicted.

(Prov. 31:4–5)

Now, is it accidental that the same language of drinking and wine intoxication resulting in unjust judgments is used in prophetic material as indictment against Judah’s rulers, prophets, and priests? Consider below:

These also reel with wine

and stagger with strong drink;

the priest and the prophet reel with strong drink;

they are confused with wine;

they stagger with strong drink;

they err in vision;

they stumble in giving judgment.

(Isa. 28:7)

Due to the licentious drinking of rulers, priests, and prophets, their discernment was severely impaired. They could no longer distinguish between true and false realities, genuine and deceptive gods, or authentic and counterfeit prophecies (cf. Jer 5:21, 30–31; 10:8, 14). Their moral blindness compromised their ability to uphold justice, practice righteousness, and remain loyal to YHWH (Jer 5:28). The intoxicated prophets failed in their prophetic vocation to call the people to repent from idolatry and injustice. Instead, they became “peace prophets,” offering false assurances and thereby provoking divine judgment through foreign invasion (Jer 5:25–29; 7:8–10; 8:10–11; 14:13).

Moreover, the use of participial grammar in this poem signals habitual rather than occasional drinking, indicating a pattern of excess that reflects addiction and a lack of self-restraint (cf. Prov 23:20–21). As Michael Fox notes, “This epigram mocks the folly of drunkenness and lampoons the drunkard by quoting him the morning after, when he longs for more wine even while suffering a hangover” (Fox 2009, p. 740). Such binge drinking starkly contrasts with the moral vision of Proverbs, which consistently advocates for moderation and self-control (Prov 21:17; 25:28; cf. Eccl 10:17; Sir 31:25–31). This motif of repeated indulgence parallels the persistent rebellion of priests and leaders in Jeremiah. Just as drunkenness defines the fool, rebellion becomes a defining trait of Judah. Despite repeated prophetic calls, the people refuse to return to YHWH (Jer 5:7–9, 23–25; 6:22–30; 9:12–14; 16:10–12). Both texts thus converge in depicting deeply ingrained, self-destructive behaviors resistant to correction.

Furthermore, in fostering solidarity with trauma victims, carrier groups may “expand the circle of the ‘we’ and create the possibility for repairing societies to prevent the trauma from happening again” (Alexander 2016). Accordingly, this expansion involves positioning “the trauma victims in relation to the wider audience” (Alexander 2004)—connecting their experience with broader communities who can empathize with or recognize aspects of the trauma. In our poem, the use of plural participles and lack of specific identifiers suggest an intentional openness, inviting both Judahites and foreign nations into its interpretive frame. This aligns well with the international ethos of Proverbs and the universal scope of YHWH’s judgment symbolized by the wine cup in Jeremiah 25. Though rooted in Judah’s cultural memory, the poem’s portrayal of “drunkards” transcends ethnic boundaries, identifying them not by descent but by moral condition.

Simply put, the victims of trauma can be understood as figures, whether leaders or representatives of a community, from Judah or from other nations, whose persistent moral transgressions and ensuing experience of Yahweh’s judgment through exile, war, and displacement are vividly portrayed through the image of the wine cup, symbolizing both physical and symbolic dimensions of suffering and trauma.

5.3. Material Causes and Consequences of Cultural Trauma

The search for causality and consequence lies at the heart of the meaning-making process. In cultural trauma however, causality is “symbolic and aesthetic, not sequential or developmental, but ‘value-added’” (Alexander 2004). The sage’s portrayal of lust and addiction to wine serves as such a symbolic interpretation—a value-added account of the cause of Babylonian exile. The wine’s red color, sparkling appearance, and smooth texture function as sensory allurement (Prov 23:31). This allure operates on two levels: physically, by arousing desire through the wine’s sensual appeal; and symbolically, by representing the seduction of foreign gods and misplaced reliance on imperial powers like Egypt and Assyria for security. The red wine—like these deceptive powers—seems enticing and harmless but ultimately conceals destruction beneath allurement.

Exegetically, the term “mixed wine” in this context refers not simply to wine but to a diluted or flavored beverage, common in the ancient Near East, often watered down or enhanced with spices, honey, or raisins (Walsh 2018). As such, intoxication was relatively rare due to the wine’s low alcohol content (Ferguson 1970). In Proverbs 9:2, 5, Lady Wisdom offers mixed wine (msk) too but assumed to be enjoyed in moderation due to its positive association with wisdom. Therefore, the extreme intoxication described in Proverbs 23:30 implies not ordinary consumption but excessive, habitual overindulgence of even this diluted wine.

In contrast to Lady Wisdom’s mixed wine—untainted and emblematic of moderation (Prov 9:2, 5)—the “mixed wine” (mimsāk) in Proverbs 23:30, viewed through a trauma-sensitive and value-added lens, symbolizes Judah’s syncretistic tendency to blend YHWH worship with allegiance to foreign deities. In Israel’s cultic imagination, mixing often connotes impurity and confusion (cf. Lev 19:19; Deut 22:9–11). This interpretive frame finds narrative resonance in texts where idolatry and wine-induced debauchery converge, such as Exod 32:1–8, Num 25:1–5, Deut 32:37–38, Hos 4:11–12, 17–19, and Joel 1:5–7. Intoxication and unfaithfulness are intertwined in Israel’s moral and theological memory.

Moreover, wine offerings which likely involved both ritual use and active consumption by worshippers were integral to pagan religious practices, as reflected in Jeremiah (cf. Jer 7:18; 19:13; 32:29). In Jeremiah 44:1–30, the prophet recounts how Judeans exiled in Egypt were enticed by the Queen of Heaven, to whom they willingly presented incense and drink offerings (vv. 17, 19, 25). Excessive wine consumption may also have featured in funerary banquets such as the beit marzeah (Jer 16:5), where intoxication was thought to alter perception, enable contact with the dead or the divine, and serve as a medium for revelatory experience (McGovern 2003; George 2020). Carroll offers an insightful description of this ritual practice:

The mourning rites include the funeral meats, the heavy drinking, the shaving of the hair, the cutting of the body and other communal practices whereby the living proclaimed their solidarity with the dead and the spirits of the ancestors. The funeral forms of self-laceration and oblivion induced by alcoholic beverages are forbidden here because they are tacit acknowledgments of the gods and spirits of other cults.

(Carroll 1986)

Additionally, the sea imagery in Prov 23:34 is wisdom’s succinct portrayal for staggering, reeling, and wobbling in drunkenness. This tossing back and forth is picturesque of Judah’s vacillation between YHWH and foreign gods and between foreign nations for alliance and help including Egypt (Jer. 2:18a; 37:5), Assyria (2:18b, 2:36), and Babylon (2:18b) in their pre-exilic history. Consider this:

How can you say, “I am not defiled;

I have not gone after the Baals”?

Look at your way in the valley;

know what you have done:

a restive young camel interlacing her tracks,

a wild ass at home in the wilderness

in her heat sniffing the wind!

Who can restrain her lust?

None who seek her need weary themselves;

in her month they will find her.

(Jer 2:23–24)

Judah is likened to a lust-driven she-ass, relentlessly chasing foreign lords. The drunkard’s gaze in Proverbs 23:31, fixated on wine, symbolizes Judah’s adulterous longing for foreign deities and political alliances. As with wine, these encounters initially appear alluring and satisfying but they are seductive promises that ultimately deceive.

Wine inebriation’s final consequence is likened to a serpent’s bite: “At the last (‘aharit), it bites like a snake and stings like an adder” (Prov 23:32). In Israelite tradition, serpents symbolize deception and destruction. Tova Forti comments about the snake:

the snake has been the enemy of humankind since time immemorial, as in the divine chastisement of the serpent in Eden: ‘They shall strike at your head, and you shall strike at their heel’ (Gen 3:15, cf. Ps 41:13). Snakes are sworn enemies of human beings, lying in ambush for them on the road. Hence snakes’ venom symbolizes the malicious intentions of evildoers and is turned against them in retribution.

(Forti 2008)

The image underscores how intoxicating pleasures, like idolatry, begin with allure but end in harm, confusion, and self-inflicted ruin. The term ’aharit refers not to a distant future or death, but to the after-effect or the consequence of intoxication (Forti 2008). Interpreting wine addiction symbolically, Judah’s exile was not meant as annihilation but divine discipline. In line with wisdom’s pedagogy, suffering becomes a transformative tool intended to lead to moral and spiritual renewal rather than total destruction (cf. Hab 2:15–16).

To further unpack the consequences of trauma, Proverbs 23:33–35 describes the various consequences of wine inebriation.

Your eyes will see strange things,

and your mind utter perverse things.

You will be like one who lies down in the midst of the sea,

like one who lies on the top of a mast.

“They struck me,” you will say, “but I was not hurt;

they beat me, but I did not feel it.

When shall I awake?

I will seek another drink.”

An appetite for wrongdoing inevitably yields fitting consequences. As the drunkard suffers hallucinations and distorted perception (Prov 23:33), so Judah fails to discern the deception of false gods, priests, and prophets (cf. Isa 28:7). The inebriated experience spiritual disorientation—loss of clarity, stability, and discernment. Likewise, in Jeremiah 25:16–18, those who drink YHWH’s wrath stagger and collapse, becoming objects of shame and scorn. As Fretheim notes, drunkenness symbolizes “public shame, disorientation in thinking and moving, even madness, and hence greater vulnerability” (Deut 28:27–28; Fretheim 2002). Judah’s unstable identity, swaying between gods and foreign powers (Jer 2:18, 36), reflects this spiritual intoxication.

Finally, the drunkard becomes numb in both body and mind—impervious to pain or shame, even after being beaten (Prov 23:35). Similarly, Judah is depicted as spiritually desensitized and unashamed in its apostasy (Jer 8:4–5, 12). Most tragically, the drunkard’s addiction intensifies rather than breaking free; he craves another drink, perpetuating his downfall. This final verse circles back to verse 29, forming a closed, downward spiral. As Fox notes, “‘Woe’ and ‘Alas’ are not nouns but interjections—cries uttered the morning after—and they rhyme, ‘oi aboi’” (Fox 2009). Verse 29′s six expressions of affliction capture the trauma of addiction in poetic form describing both symptoms and consequences of excess.

5.4. Attribution of Responsibility of Cultural Trauma

At the heart of Proverbs’ conduct–consequence theology is the principle of moral agency and responsibility: repeated actions, whether wise or foolish, naturally yield corresponding outcomes. The warning in Proverbs 23:31 (“Do not look at wine when it is red…”) signals the sage’s attribution of full accountability to the drinker. Ignoring this caution leads to predictable ruin. This is no exaggerated concern—the danger of intoxication is echoed throughout Scripture. In Jeremiah 35:1–19, the Rechabites refuse wine out of ancestral obedience (Jer 35:6), standing in stark contrast to Judah’s defiance. Their disciplined restraint models covenantal faithfulness, showing that consistent moral conduct averts both self-inflicted destruction and divine judgment.

By contrast, the drunkard fool’s inability to stop craving wine aligns with the broader prophetic tradition. The sage places culpability squarely on the drinkers. The six symptoms of suffering in verse 29 are self-inflicted, the natural result of moral failure, not divine punishment or foreign aggression. This marks a subtle departure from Jeremiah 25:15–29, where divine judgment remains the primary agent of retribution through human aggressor Babylon as consequences of human guilt.

In sum, the sage’s retelling of Judah’s catastrophe omits any direct role of YHWH, instead portraying human beings not merely as victims but as morally responsible agents in their own trauma, which is in line with Proverbs’ theological orientation. This does not place Proverbs 23:29–35 and Jeremiah 25:15–29 in opposition or establish a false dichotomy; rather, it underscores how each text foregrounds moral agency differently. Crucially, the sage’s approach reflects a healing trajectory: recognizing one’s own responsibility in suffering, however partial, is a vital step toward moral clarity, recovery, and restoration.

6. Summary

In Proverbs 23:29–35, the sage—functioning as a member of the trauma “carrier group”—renders a portrait of cultural trauma rooted in Judah’s collective memory of exile. Employing the literary trope of wine and drunkenness, the poem symbolically echoes the imagery found in Jeremiah 25:15–29. Yet here, wine-induced dissipation is not merely a sign of personal moral failure, but a culturally resonant identity marker of exile. A symbolic and trauma-sensitive reading reveals that the “drunkard fools” represent those enticed by foreign gods, idols, and nations—figures of syncretism who forsake exclusive loyalty to YHWH. This seduction lies at the heart of Judah’s collapse. Unlike Jeremiah 25, which emphasizes divine agency without downplaying human culpability, Proverbs 23 places the full moral weight on human choice. The sage does not hesitate to assign blame: Judah’s downfall is presented as fundamentally self-inflicted. Much like a riddle or mashal, the poem’s deeper meaning is encoded in metaphor and symbol—accessible only to “the wise and discerning” (Prov 1:5–6). Thus, this poem functions not only as a moral critique but also as a wisdom interpretation of national trauma, reframing Judah’s history through the lens of personal responsibility and sapiential insight.