Encounters with Wisdom

“Listen up!”

Says Jesus to his disciples.

“Things are about to get complicated.”

Oh really, Jesus?

Like everything up til now has been a straightforward walk in the park?

“You can’t handle what I have to say to you,

So I’m going to send along a spirit of truth.”

Okay, a spirit.

“That settles it then,” says Jesus,

“Over and out.”

Um.

Is this a self-identifying spirit?


Will we know it when we see it?

What does it look like?

What does it sound like?

How can we know for sure?

Please pray with me:

Great God of every age,

Open our minds to receive your Spirit this morning.

Open our hearts to your grace, your guidance,

And most importantly, your peace. Amen.

The Spirit of Truth,

And God’s Wisdom.

Two highly attractive, but somewhat murky ideas.

In today’s lectionary, we’ve got Jesus’ spirit speech

And Proverb’s wisdom hymn paired together,

Suggesting perhaps that the two are connected.

A helpful connection?

Maybe. Let’s go with it and see where we get.

In this season of graduation speeches and family gatherings,

The subject of wisdom gets thrown around a lot.

Wisdom—more than just smarts—

Tends to be celebrated in the very old,

Or, as my dad would specify, the very experienced.

Who hasn’t heard the phrase “wisdom of the ages,”
Or referenced a “wise old” man or woman?

The “wise” are the white haired sages of children’s story books.

We love our Proverbs from every culture of the world,

Our fond memories of wise Biblical characters,

And all those quotes by good old “anonymous.”

Of course, there are pockets of wisdom reserved for the very young, too,

And select species in the natural world.

Look at the wisdom of the ants in their little colony,

We say, not a little condescendingly.

Or we repeat with awed surprise

The remark of a child “wise beyond her years.”

We seem to think we have cornered the market on wisdom.

But now it’s God’s turn to say, “really”?

Because wisdom is so not a human accomplishment.

Neither is it simply animal instinct.

Children have wisdom,

Not because they say remarkably profound things every once in awhile,

But because they know in their very bones

How to live out the story of radical, unblinking faith.

Wisdom, I think, has a lot more to do with God

Than we often admit.

It is more than just a mass of sayings

That we can gather up at will like manna in the desert.

It is more than a collection of simplified fables

To package up and export to the generations to come.

Wisdom is more than these things

Because life is more than brief moments in isolation.

And life is more complicated than flattened stories

And simple morals.

The Bible fabulously recognizes this,

 If we dare to look.

On the surface, yes, there are the stock characters,

The Hallmark-worthy sayings,

And the stories that translate well into feltboard fairy tales.

But if we limit the wisdom of the Bible

To a finite list of proverbs and solid moral teachings,

We don’t allow it to address the complexity of relationships

Between members of Creation and their Creator God.

The messy, complicated, and downright mystifying relationships

Are where we need God’s spirit of wisdom the most.

How lovely, then,

How incredibly Providential,

That Wisdom, in our Scripture reading for today,

Is a relational being!

Wisdom is freed from the bondage

Of any particular bit of writing or age of enlightenment

And is made to come alive.

Weird and mystifying, yes.

But it is so like God to pull something like this.

“Ages ago, I was brought forth,

I was beside God like a master worker,

Rejoicing in his inhabited world.”

Here we have Wisdom, like the Spirit Jesus talks about,

Distinct from the rest of Creation.

Wisdom is a character,

A being!

What I love about this is that it prevents any one species,

Group, or individual from having a monopoly.

Wisdom is self-directing,

Freed from every human effort claim exclusive rights

Wisdom evades our compulsion to control him.

She smiles understandingly at our claims to “possess” her.

Like Jesus saying, “You still don’t get it, do you.”

Yet Jesus promises an abiding spirit,

Not to mock or evade us completely,

But to be our guide and companion.

So we’re actually supposed to be able to find this Wisdom, this spirit.

Where do we look?

From Proverbs 8:

“On the heights, beside the way, at the crossroads she takes her stand;

Beside the gates in front of the town,

At the entrance of the portals she cries out.”

Wisdom is at the gates of our lives.

At the crossroads.

In both ancient and our own times,

Gates have been places of exchange.

Who comes to the gates of your home?

Perhaps it’s the UPS man,

Bringing those discount shoes you ordered from Amazon,

Or a Girl Scout selling cookies,

Or a missionary evangelist.

You never know.

Gates are places of trade and exchange.

What does it mean for wisdom to cry out at these spaces?

Listen.

Read the news.

Listen.

Do you hear the cries of exploited workers,

Trapped in unsafe factories,

Or picking fruit for no pay in pesticide-ridden farms?

Do you hear the cries of protesters in Bangladesh?

Could this be wisdom?

Crying out to us,

To Americans with purchasing power,

To recognize the face of God,

In them,

Those people we prefer not to see?

Wisdom cries out at every gateway,

Every place of exchange,

Demanding that the terms of trade be just and merciful.

Wisdom is alive at the gates.

At the crossroads.

Listen.

Who else is at your gate?

For gates are not only places of exchange,

But places of hospitality as well.

Who comes knocking at your gate?

Maybe it’s a friend with a hot meal for your family when times are rough.

Or a neighbor asking a quick favor.

Wisdom is there,

Teaching us to be humble in both our giving and receiving of hospitality.

Wisdom guides us to match the gifts we have with the needs of our neighbor.

Perhaps you are a good listener,

And a neighbor needs to talk.

Or perhaps you have a skill to teach,

A gift for writing grant proposals,

A free week this summer when you can take the youth group on their service trip.

Go to the gate—Wisdom is waiting for you.

Wisdom guides us in giving gifts,

But also helps us with that difficult, fearful step of asking for help,

Especially when our pride has convinced us

That we really can do it all by ourselves.

Wisdom is at the gate, proclaiming hospitality.

Wisdom knocks.

But what if it’s a stranger?
Can wisdom arrive at your doorstep with an unfamiliar face?

Under what conditions do we show hospitality at our gates?

There are the gates of our homes, yes.

But also the front doors of our Churches,

The borders of our country,

And the steps of our courts and legislatures.

“Beside the gates in front of the town, at the entrance of the portals she cries out.”

Could wisdom possibly be crying out

At the fence we’re constructing between the United States and Mexico?

Can we discern the cry of Wisdom,

Of the connective Spirit of Truth

That binds every creature to one another as the beloved of God?

Can this spirit even survive at such an ugly, hostile, death-ridden border?

What business does wisdom have at the gates?

Perhaps she stands there with the people who seek to be recognized as human.

But who instead are mere statistics,

Spat upon, trampled, and shot at

By American citizens who sit on their rooftops with guns.

Perhaps Wisdom cries out for mercy for the migrants from Latin America

Who die—hundreds of them every year—

Of thirst and exhaustion in the middle of the unforgiving desert.

It’s an awful, subhuman place to be,

But Wisdom will not leave.

Perhaps he is waiting for others to join the cry for mercy and for justice.

Wisdom is at the gateway,

Wisdom is on the steps.

Relentless in the call to right relationship.

What are we going to do?

First, we have to recognize her.

We have to go to the gateways of our lives.

And we have to learn to spot and hear wisdom

In the presence of the migrant,

The stranger, the worker,

The child.

We have to be humble enough to appreciate that wisdom

In a non-patronizing way.

That means recognizing wisdom’s autonomy,

Its grandness beyond any one image.

We have to practice recognizing wisdom,

And then we have to practice standing with Wisdom.

“Abiding in the Spirit,” as the Bible says.

We have to practice standing in those places of exchange and hospitality,

Protesting on the steps of the city,

Echoing Wisdom’s cry.

My friends, wisdom’s call is intense and demanding.

It takes the entire community to listen and to respond.

When Jesus spoke about the coming of the Spirit,

He was speaking to his gathered friends,

Not to any one person.

None of us has a monopoly on the Spirit,

None of us has privileged access to Wisdom.

We are not meant to go it alone.

The people beside you,

Across the aisle from you,

Your neighbors and the folks on every side of every border—

Wisdom abides with all.

And our call now is to listen,

To behold,

To expect God’s wisdom to burst into our lives in ways we can’t predict.

Wisdom is at the gates.

Wisdom as at the borders.

Out in public,

With the audacity to cry out loud.

It’s Pentecost, people!

Wisdom has come alive,

Connecting us,

And calling us to right relationships,

Wisdom, the spirit of truth, shows us how to exist in true fellowship

With one another and with God.

Wisdom is at our gates;

Let us get up, out of our cozy homes,

And answer the door.