She is the Book of God's Wisdom--the feminine generosity of God's love

“She is the book of God’s commandments…”

--Baruch 4:1

She is.  In Hebrew literature, wisdom is depicted as feminine, referred to as “she.” And the first question I always stumble over is: why? Why would a patriarchal society depict this essential quality as feminine? There are those who argue that it is simply a figure of speech, like calling a car or a ship “she.” But, throughout much of the wisdom literature she is not only referred to with a feminine pronoun, but also with feminine traits, feminine attributes. As far as I can tell from my brief research, there isn’t an answer, but only speculation. But, for me the question itself seems so much more important:  Why? What did this patriarchal society see in the feminie that conformed to their archetype of wisdom?  Was it simply that they had seen too many men behave like fools? Too many men, kings, judges, priests, rabbis, merchants and even shepherds had made it utterly clear that wisdom wasn’t something that came easily to men?

I don’t know. But, in my own foolishness, I like to think about it.

And speaking of foolishness, here is a brief reflection on this passage.  First, Baruch is one of the Deuterocanonical books in the Catholic and Orthodox Bibles, but not a part of the canon in Protestant or Jewish scripture. It is a prophetic work attributed to Jeremiah’s secretary, Baruch (app. 580 BC), though some scholars think it was actually written by an anonymous author in the first century. 

Now, back to that She who is the book of God’s commandments. This phrase comes near the end of a lengthy passage on the foolishness of Israel.  In ironic and sometimes bitter terms, the author dwells on Israel’s rejection of wisdom, in fact her almost complete ignorance of her ways.  “Nothing has been heard of her in Canaan, nothing has been seen of her in Teman…” (3:22) and no one seems to know her path.  The prophet tells the people, look around! You want to know why you were conquered and dragged off to Babylon?  Because you have “forsaken the fountain of wisdom!” And what is that fountain? The book of God’s commandments! The Word of God. The Law!  Israel is suffering in exile because she rejected the Law.  And –as we see time and again in the books of the prophets—to reject the Law of God is to choose exile; it is the path of foolishness.  God’s law is love, mercy, justice; to reject it is to dwell in anxiety and fear and isolation. A permanent state of pandemic, if you will!

So, how do we return from exile?  How do we find Wisdom? Open the book! She is the book of God’s commandments.  For us, today, we look at our Bibles and we might wonder, who can read all that? And where do you start?  For me, it was page 1; Genesis 1. But, for some, it might be easier to start with a psalm (open your Bible right at the middle and you will probably find yourself in the Psalms).  Or maybe you want to read one of the Gospels first. Mark is the shortest.  But, no matter what—open your Bible; just open the book. She is there; in fact, she is the book. She dwells there in the revelation of God’s loving presence; a wisdom beyond any you could imagine.

Lost in my Covid anxieties and distracted by movie making, I missed a few book of the Bible as I was reading my way through the prophets. I want to go back and pick up a few of these as I go. This is the first of one of those looks back.

I think one of the things God’s word teaches us, is to stop being so distracted. Be attentive, be present to the moment.  As Christ reminds us in Matthew, don’t worry about tomorrow. There is enough of life today, if only you will live it. 

This morning, a man and his wife were walking past as I sat on the porch. I waved, and they waved back. And then I noticed them pausing, and overheard him telling her,

“He’s that guy! The one who walks and reads at the same time.”

So, I got up and walked over to say hello.  As I came up, the man asked me,

“What do you have there?”

And I looked down to see I was still holding a couple of pages of poetry from a friend. I had been lingering over them as I sipped my coffee. As I started to tell them what it was, I heard his wife exclaim:

“Oh Lord, he loves poetry! You should see the shelves of books he’s got!”

And suddenly, on a Sunday morning, here I was standing at the curb talking with an almost stranger about something we both hold so very dear.  And I wondered: Does this happen to anyone else? I love this life. I love the way the squirrels leap about my lawn. I love the way the sunlight looks on the green of the leaves. I love the sudden comforting breeze on a July afternoon. And I love the way strangers become friends. 

Less than an hour later, this couple drove up in front of our house and the man got out of his can and handed me a book from his shelf, some poetry he loves and wanted to share. 

And that seemed to me a revelation of its own.  We don’t hoard or hide the things we truly love. We share them. Maybe that is how God feels about His law. In fact, maybe that is the heart of His law: the golden rule, so to speak.  Be generous. Is that what it means to be wise? That beautiful generosity of self-giving? Kind of like a mother's love?  In my foolishness, that’s another one of those things that I wonder about.

Talking too much (and not enough) --the fool at the gate

“For a fool wisdom is an inaccessible fortress;

at the city gate he does not open his mouth…”

--Proverbs 24:7

Because I was thinking about talking too much in my last mediation, this verse about the fool not opening his mouth seemed an appropriate follow-up.

Here is a little vision of my reading process:

When I read this the first time, I thought: the first clause (before the semi-colon) is perfectly obvious: the “fool” knows of the kingdom of wisdom but cannot find any way to enter it. The gates are locked, the draw bridge is pulled up, the walls are too high, and maybe there is a shark infested moat surrounding it.

But then, there is that part after the semi-colon about being at the city gate and not opening his mouth. As I read it initially, I thought it was a sign of the fool’s untapped wisdom:  he doesn’t open his mouth.  For a fool that could be a good thing. He doesn’t have any wisdom to offer, so he keeps his mouth shut.

I don’t know if my mind was wandering, but I was treating each part as a separate, almost unrelated, statement.  It was as if I had wandered out of the metaphor the author was creating (a fortress) and into the streets leading up to a common city where people gathered at the gate to talk and share news and greet one another—to begin the business of the day.  And in my imagination, there was this fool with his clothed mouth, experiencing the benefits of restraint. No wisdom to share, nothing to say. Just listening and learning.

But then, realizing that this didn’t seem to make sense, I looked back and realized that the city gate comes within the context of the metaphor of the fortress of Wisdom. And then I realized that the reason the fool cannot access the kingdom is because he will not open his mouth; he won’t ask to be let in. He’s too foolish to ask for access. It perfectly dramatizes the depths of his foolishness:  this is a person who doesn’t even know enough to ask for help.

The second part of the statement develops the first.  Now, to most people this may seem rather obvious in itself, but for me (a librarian and writer) it is a lesson I am always having to relearn.

At moments like this, I wonder if anyone else reads like me; as carelessly, as foolishly.  And I wonder if my carless reading comes from lack of focus, from being unable to shut down all those voice in my head and just attend to the moment (the word on the page).  This sounds like an odd struggle for a writer to have, getting lost midway through a short sentence. I wonder if it is related to talking too much?  To those voices in my head that are constantly trying to interpret and decipher and dissect each and every situation, experience as if I were constantly trying to discover some hidden coded truth, constantly trying to prove myself, to justify my existence?  

And so –I will write one more thought –nay two-- then then hold my tongue; reading this passage I come away with 2 lessons:

1. There is wisdom to be found in remaining silent, or as Proverbs says:

If the fool holds his tongue, he may pass for wise. (17:28)

2. And there is wisdom in speaking out. When you are standing at Wisdom’s gate, don’t be afraid to open your mouth and reveal you are a fool in need of assistance.  It’s the only way you will be able to ask for help.

3. (okay –one more) And where better might we find the gates of the Kingdom of Wisdom, than in God’s word. So, when you are reading The Bible, don’t be a fool, humble your heart, open your mouth and ask for help.  In fact, the author is right there standing at the gate, waiting for you.  Just say the word and He will open the gate and let you in.

Talking too much

“…whoever talks too much is lost…”

--Proverbs 13:36

I hear chastisement in this proverb.  In my heart, I hear a voice saying: that is me.  I am someone who talks too much. Sometimes it is even out loud.  I think it has something to do with nerves, anxiety, self-consciousness. I am so concerned about appearances, about what people will think of me, that I can’t stop talking, can’t stop chattering away –in an attempt to distract people, to hide in a cloud of jokes and cleverness the truth of who and what I am.  Creating a kind of smoke screen of words and noise, I hide not only from others, but also from myself.

Sometimes the “talking too much” is me trying to cover up a mistake I’ve made, or a pettiness I’ve done –trying to talk my way out of responsibility for it.  And other times it is me trying to justify something I want to do; trying to talk myself into it, even when I know it would be wrong –or should I say, especially when I know it will be wrong.  But in either case it is a sign that I I am lost—I have lost my way.  That seems like a pretty nice little piece of psychological insight to come from the pen of some ancient primitive scribe (or king).

But something else that interested me in this proverb was its more mundane truth.  There is –I think—an observable phenomenon being described here, a physiological and psychological truth observed and recorded. When people get lost, take a wrong turn on the road, take the wrong exit on the freeway, or just turn down the wrong hallway in an unfamiliar building, they begin to “talk too much.” One of the first things that happens when we realize we are lost, is that justifying voice in our head kicks in and starts running on overdrive.  That is a perfect description of the sensation of panic that sets in when we realize we are lost.  The voice in our head begins to ‘talk too much,” and that begins to cloud our thinking.  If we let it, that talk will keep us lost, even lead us further astray.  And until we are able to calm ourselves down, to quiet that talk, we can’t look at our situation logically, can’t figure out how to do something as simple as retrace our steps and get ourselves un-lost.

There is a lot of wisdom in this book of Proverbs.  Books like this are too easily ignored or dismissed as not intended for reading straight through.  But what I am finding is that there is a richness in every part of scripture –in all its many literary forms—a richness that rewards reading (and rereading). A richness that roots itself in the soul, and rewards not only with wisdom, and insight, but with a joy and a beautiful flowering calm that stills the voices of anxiety, of uncertainty, of confusion and bears fruit in peace and quiet and the security that is faith.