And passing into holy souls from age to age,
she produces friends of God and prophets.
For there is nought God loves, be it not one who dwells with Wisdom.
For she is fairer than the sun
and surpasses every constellation of the stars.
Unlike Hebrew, the English language and our usage make a distinction between wisdom and cleverness. A clever magician might be a foolish businessman; some of the most brilliant artists and poets cannot manage their money well. Adroit politicians often misuse their power.
As we use the words, the wise are those who seek wisdom in all their affairs. They have book learning, accept helpful advice, value their own experience, and keep a reasonable perspective on current and passing events. They are not quick to judge or act, but know when to act. They honor timeless truths, respect history and tradition, and adapt with the times. They act uprightly without self-righteousness; and they lead by example and with the limited authority they're given.
The scriptures might acknowledge the foolishness of youth and wisdom of age, but the proverbs, parables, and teachings seem to expect the foolish always to act foolishly. Fools are mired in stupidity while the wise grow in wisdom.
But occasionally, as in the Lord's parable of the prodigal son, fools can regret their foolishness and turn aside from it. Jesus gave us that wonderful parable without telling us if the reunited family learned from the experience. Did the older son welcome his brother? Did the Father admit he should not have acceded to his son's unreasonable demands? Did the older son recognize his obsequious self-righteousness? Did the prodigal son really learn from the experience? Did his remorse become repentance? Did he find a useful role in the household although he had no further claim on his father or his brother? Or did he stay, a parasite despised by servants and family?
Those are questions we resolve, but not by speculating about how Jesus should have finished his tale. Recognizing that I might be the prodigal son, the foolish father, or the resentful son, I make my own life decisions about regret, remorse, and repentance. With sufficient study, counsel, and reflection, I might learn from experience. No one said acquiring wisdom is assured or easy.
Americans can expect little help from our schools. Their customers apparently want only degrees and certificates. Educational institutions seem mostly caught up in surviving in a competitive market by training workers with facts and skills. They have invested heavily in STEM, with little concern for the moral development of individuals into citizens ready to make hard choices in a democratic society.
Our Catholic tradition should honor its teaching authority -- the Magisterium-- in all its institutions, from parishes, to retreat centers, shrines, schools, and hospitals. Their mission is not to amuse or entertain but to prepare the faithful to meet and address hard choices gracefully and wisely. We bank on the resources of tradition, liturgy, and scripture. We repent when it's appropriate, learn from our mistakes, and speak the truth whether convenient or inconvenient.
And the Holy Spirit, moving among the faithful and in the murkier world outside, welcomes our efforts.
No comments:
Post a Comment
I love to write. This blog helps me to meditate on the Word of God, and I hope to make some contribution to our contemplations of God's Mighty Works.
Ordinarily, I write these reflections two or three weeks in advance of their publication. I do not intend to comment on current events.
I understand many people prefer gender-neutral references to "God." I don't disagree with them but find that language impersonal, unappealing and tasteless. When I refer to "God" I think of the One whom Jesus called "Abba" and "Father", and I would not attempt to improve on Jesus' language.
You're welcome to add a thought or raise a question.