Sunday, September 23, 2012

Proper 20, Year B -- Sunday Sermon


Proverbs 31:10-31
James 3:13-4:3, 7-8a

One of the themes running through this morning’s readings is that of wisdom. The Old Testament lesson from Proverbs praises the good wife: “She opens her mouth in wisdom, and the teaching of kindness is on her tongue.” And in the Epistle, Saint James writes: “Who is wise and understanding among you? By his good life let him show his works in the meekness of wisdom.”

Scripture speaks often of wisdom, contrasting it with foolishness. These terms are perhaps somewhat strange to us today. We live in a culture that prizes education, knowledge, and intelligence. But wisdom is distinct from all three.

Several years ago, a bumper sticker appeared that read, “If you think education is expensive, try ignorance.” While I generally don’t have much use for theological, philosophical, or political principles expressed in simplistic slogans on the backs of cars, I did like that bumper sticker. It reminded us not only of the value of a good education but also of the many costs—personal, social, economic, and political—that ignorance inflicts upon individuals, groups, and society as a whole.

Contrary to what some believe, the Catholic tradition affirms the goodness of all learning, scholarship, research, and knowledge. Since God is the source of all truth, and all truth is one, Christian faith has no fear of scientific discovery. Apparent conflicts between science and religion turn out, in the end, to be illusory. Operating within its proper sphere of competence, science does not contradict but rather complements and reinforces the truths of revelation. So, the Christian tradition at its best encourages rational inquiry, critical thinking, and sound learning.

Given a choice between knowledge and ignorance, then, we have no problem choosing knowledge. In the Christian world view, education and knowledge are positive goods, to be encouraged and cultivated.

But knowledge is not the same as wisdom. It’s possible to be relatively unlearned and yet very wise. Conversely, it’s possible to be highly educated, an authority in one’s field, and yet be almost totally lacking in wisdom, a learned fool. King James I of England (VI of Scotland) was called by his detractors “the wisest fool in Christendom” because, they said, he combined great academic erudition with a lack of practical wisdom in affairs of state.

A rabbinical story has it that God once offered a group of aspiring scholars a choice between wisdom and knowledge. If they chose knowledge, they would know everything. If they chose wisdom they would know a few things well. They debated the choice among themselves through the night into the morning. With all knowledge, they could unlock the secrets of the universe; the possession of such knowledge could give them unlimited power and wealth. Yet they felt uneasy about turning down wisdom. So, in the end, they told God that they chose knowledge; but with the condition that they wanted included in this knowledge everything that wise people know. God laughed, and replied that even knowing everything that wise people know wouldn’t make them wise, because knowledge and wisdom are two different things.

Nor is wisdom the same as intelligence. One of the charming features of the 1994 movie Forrest Gump was that the protagonist, played by Tom Hanks, was what we might call “mentally challenged.” Yet in his own simple way he exhibited deep wisdom. Maybe not great cinematic art, but an important point nonetheless. Even those who have neither great learning nor much intelligence are still capable of deep wisdom.

Saint Thomas Aquinas defines wisdom as the greatest of the intellectual virtues, because it exercises judgment over these other intellectual virtues, directs them, and, as a master architect, builds with them. Another way of putting it is that wisdom enables us to use however little knowledge, learning, or intelligence we may have to good effect. Aquinas goes on to say wisdom entails an understanding of the causes of things, issuing in clear judgments about how to live one’s life in accordance with reality. And since God is the ultimate cause of everything, the deepest wisdom of all is the knowledge of God.

Wisdom is best described, then, not so much as a body of knowledge to be mastered, as a way of inhabiting, looking at, and seeing the world and our place in it; a way of understanding ourselves in relation to each other and, above all, in relation to God. Elsewhere, the Book of Proverbs says, “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.” And Psalm 14 defines foolishness as the very opposite of this wisdom when it says, “The fool has said in his heart, ‘There is no God.’” For this reason, the essence of wisdom has been aptly described as the realization that “God is God, and we are not.”

Wisdom thus defined keeps us mindful of our status as creatures in relation to our Creator. It reminds us of our finitude and mortality; our accountability to God for our thoughts, words, and deeds in this life; and our sinfulness and need of the redemption and salvation that only God can provide.

Apart from wisdom, education, knowledge, and intelligence tend to breed pride and arrogance. How often are we tempted to look down on those whom we categorize as uneducated, ignorant, or stupid? Wisdom, on the other hand, produces humility. With the gift of wisdom, we begin to recognize our own limitations, and especially the limitations of our knowledge. Conversely, we begin to recognize and appreciate the simple wisdom of those whom we might otherwise be tempted to dismiss as of no account.

As a new academic year gets under way, those of us engaged in scholarly pursuits at one level or another do well to ask ourselves the purpose of the knowledge that we are accumulating. Without wisdom, we seek knowledge as a means of power and control—over other people, over society, and over creation itself—because we put ourselves in the place of God. With wisdom, we learn to seek knowledge as a means of service to God and our neighbor.

In today’s epistle reading, Saint James describes wisdom as the opposite of jealousy and selfish ambition: “The wisdom from above is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, open to reason, full of mercy and good fruits, without uncertainty or insincerity.” The most important point here is that this wisdom is “from above.” It’s not so much the fruit of study, learning, or experience as a sheer gift of God’s grace. It’s not so much something we achieve as something we receive.

While education, knowledge, and intelligence are positive goods in themselves, wisdom makes all the difference as to whether we use them well, to our soul’s profit, or badly, to our soul’s destruction. Regardless of how much or how little we may know, regardless of how intelligent or lacking in intelligence we may be, we do well to ask for this gift of wisdom, which helps us grow into a right relationship with the God who has made us for himself.

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