Sermon for 12th Sunday after Pentecost – Proverbs 9:1-6

How smart do you think you are? How about wise? Are those actually the same thing? I feel pretty smart. But I manage a team of folks, and humans are usually pretty complicated, so I usually wish I was wiser. Though, I’ve also been watching the CNN documentary series “Jerusalem: City of Faith and Fury”, where they discussed that old story about “wise” King Solomon, to whom 2 women brought a baby and both claimed to be the mother. So Solomon suggests cutting the baby in half, so they could “share”. Naturally the true mother speaks up in the nick of time. Of course, when you’ve absorbed that story over decades, it becomes ingrained to think “yup, that was pretty wise.” But, after watching the documentary, it now occurs to me, “what a deranged story!” So, maybe not THAT kind of wise!

But after studying our reading from Proverbs this morning, I’m not sure wisdom’s all it’s cracked up to be. In Proverbs we actually meet Lady Wisdom. So the first question is, who the heck is Lady Wisdom? I mean, if we believe in a Holy Trinity, with Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, then where does Lady Wisdom fit in? She does sound a lot like the Holy Spirit. She talks about right and wrong. She talks about righteousness. She calls us. In the chapter before this, she even says, “The Lord created me before the beginning of the earth and the heavens. Then I was beside him, like a master worker, and I was daily his delight.” Now, that gets a little weird, because Father, Son, and Holy Spirit are co-eternal. Together from the start. Theologians love to argue about this stuff. But what really matters is that she’s got something important to say to us. “For whoever finds me finds life, and obtains favor from the Lord.”

And she’s determined to be heard. “On the heights, at the crossroads she takes her stand; at the town gates she cries out.” (Prov 8:2-3) When you want to get your message out, you go to where the people are. And she’s not shy. She raises her voice and says, “To you, O people, I call, and my cry is to all that live.” Then she starts to preach. “All the words of my mouth are righteous; there is nothing twisted or crooked in them. Take my instruction instead of silver, knowledge instead of gold, for wisdom is better than jewels, and nothing you desire can compare.” She’s got a pretty high opinion of herself, right? But she’s got a point. I mean, wealth comes and goes. You can’t take it with you when you die. It brings unwanted attention. Ask lottery winners. Folks start coming out the woodwork and they always want something. It’s hard to know who to trust. Do folks like you for you, or just because you’re rich?

It’s confusing. But wisdom’s a game-changer. You can see what’s happening. You can make better decisions. You might even figure out that being rich is more trouble than it’s worth.

Then Lady Wisdom starts giving practical advice. Beware of pride and arrogance. Listen to instruction. You’re never too smart or old to learn. Teach the wise and they become wiser still. That’s not news. We’ve heard it before. But check this out – “Whoever corrects a scoffer wins abuse. A scoffer who is rebuked will only hate you. The wise, when rebuked, will love you.” That’ll preach! It’s like Lady Wisdom watches CNN and Fox News – climate change, Covid, the economy. We know how well folks listen when we tell them they’re wrong. Unless you love to argue. Which some of us do, if we’re honest. Or maybe we hate arguing and just learn to keep our mouths shut.

But, that’s not necessarily wise, right? Because we hate to see folks heading down a dangerous path, especially when it affects all of us. But sometimes we have trouble believing that we’re affecting other people. We get really obsessed with personal choice. What we wear and the dead horse of the mask debate. We want freedom of speech and don’t want to be questioned. We want to spend our money without having to consider the institutions we support. Wal-Mart or Amazon or Chik-Fil-A and what political action committees we’re funding. I’m guilty too, with an Apple watch on my wrist. But here’s the thing – Lady Wisdom isn’t trying to tell us how to make guilt-free choices. She’s smarter than that. She knows there aren’t any. Everything we do or say has a ripple effect. We always affect others. We’re interconnected. But here’s the consequence. There’s no such thing as a personal choice. Whether we like it or not, we’re our brother’s and sister’s keeper, and we have lots of siblings. That’s the inconvenient truth that she wants us to get. Wisdom has a cost.

So, Lady Wisdom wants to gather us together. She’s built her house and hewn her 7 pillars. 7 is the number of completeness – that means one house for everyone. She’s slaughtered her animals like she’s ready to make burnt offerings to the Lord. Remember, she’s the one who says, “the fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom.” She’s mixed her wine. She’s set her table. And she calls from the highest place in town so no one can say they didn’t hear her. “You that are simple, those without sense, come in here! Eat my bread, drink my wine. Lay aside immaturity, and live.”

Now, Lady Wisdom won’t force us to come into her house. She gives us a choice. But who would ever choose to always be responsible for everyone else? To always be on the hook as our siblings’ keepers? It’s exhausting. It’s frustrating. And who can really predict how our choices ripple out? If anything, aren’t we more like pinballs just colliding off each other, never knowing whether we’re sending someone down a deep, dark hole? Deep down, I don’t think any of us want to be wise. That kind of responsibility hurts too much. Yet, Lady Wisdom says, “those who miss me injure themselves; all who hate me love death.”

But, the Good News is that we also hear Jesus, the “living bread that came down from heaven.” Jesus knows that Lady Wisdom is right. Without wisdom we’re doomed. But Jesus also knows that we just can’t seem to answer her call. So Jesus calls us instead. And sets a table before us with bread and wine, his own body broken and blood poured out for us on a cross we made in our ignorance. But Jesus never condemned us. Instead he asks his Father to forgive us, because he knows we don’t know what we’re doing. And he dies. But after three days, he is risen in the glory of his resurrection. And he doesn’t stand calling us on some high hill that we can’t climb. Instead he comes down to us right where we’re at, because he’s so determined to have us at his table. And he makes a promise. “Those who eat my flesh and drink my blood have eternal life, and I will raise them up on the last day.”

Jesus does this to us because he knows that wisdom is complicated. How do any of us know whether we’re wise or just lucky? And if we think we have it, we inevitably find out we don’t. So Jesus gives us something better. He gives us faith, to fill our hearts with mercy and compassion. Because at the end of the day, wisdom isn’t really about making right decisions, or about making things easy. It’s about knowing that everything we do affects those around us, and knowing that even our best efforts cause incredible disasters. But when that happens, compassion is the thing that keeps us there in the muck and the mire with our neighbors so that we can walk through it together. And it’s mercy that lets us forgive each other when we need it most.

Now, that kind of forgiveness changes things. We can show a little grace with folks who don’t care for our loving suggestions. Lady Wisdom says “Whoever corrects a scoffer wins abuse.” And that’s ok, because they’ll know someone really cares about them. We can also show a little more grace to ourselves. We may never know if we’re wise, but we get to learn from our mistakes. It’s not the end of the world. So, I don’t know about you, but if I had to choose between being wise or being forgiven, I’d choose forgiven every time, because we never have to wonder about that.