WISDOM

1: 13 - 2: 24 - Solidarity

The human experience is one filled with dichotomies. As we hear in Ecclesiastes, there is a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to harvest, a time to kill and a time to heal, a time to tear down and a time to build, a time to weep and a time to laugh, a time to mourn and a time to dance. These dichotomies, which make the highs feel higher and the lows feel lower, is ultimately a consequence of Original Sin. Had we not fallen, would we die or kill or tear down or weep or mourn? Would our experiences only be new life, building up, laughing, and dancing? As we hear in the book of Wisdom, God made all things wholesome. The whole of human experience, though sometimes filled with moments of suffering and lowliness, allows us to emulate God because we are made in His image; out of love for us, God took on suffering and lowliness Himself to transform it into something divine.

We often hear that the negative parts of life are good for us because they allow us to appreciate the good times. How can we truly appreciate something good unless we know what it is like without that thing? However, we were not initially created to be this way. We were created to live in the embrace of our loving Creator fully and perfectly; it was only after our Fall that this became something that can be lost. But God did not create us, imprint us with His Image and Likeness, and set us forth just so that we might exist on our own. Even in the garden, before and after the Fall, He walked alongside His creation, making sure that the consequence of sin may be experienced without us being fully abandoned. We are those who brought sin and death into an otherwise wholesome and imperishable world. God does not fail, nor does His plan for creation change from what He willed from the beginning; He took the consequences of sin and death that we brought about and transformed them into a vehicle for love: in our mourning, He mourns with us. In our weeping, He weeps with us. When we tear down, He is with us as He helps us rebuild. When we kill, He heals. When we toil to plant, He ensures that there is something to harvest in due time. Most importantly, when we die, we are given the opportunity to die to self and to be reborn into new life, a gift freely given once Christ offered his own life for us on the cross. We were never meant to experience the consequence of sin because we were not created to sin; but God has ensured that the consequence of sin becomes an opportunity for us to encounter Him in His solidarity with us.

Christ’s entire public ministry can be characterized by this word “solidarity”. It should come as a surprise, then, when Christ eschews solidarity and empathy in a moment such as the famous story of Jairus’ daughter - a family mourns the death of a young girl, yet Christ does not share in their mourning. Instead, he invites the girl to new life; he could have mourned for her with her family as he did with Lazarus later, but this scene tells us something different. Our experience with death is something irreversible and permanent, which causes us to mourn and weep. But to God, death is something He has ultimate power over, indicated through miracles such as these but most importantly through his own Resurrection. There is a time to mourn and weep in life; Christ did just as we do. This moment in his public ministry was not one of those times. This was a moment to rejoice in the power God has and gives to us to remain wholesome and imperishable, just as we were created to be. He invites us in solidarity to experience the divine with Him - through eternal life and victory over death.

3: 1-9 - The Souls of the Just

Christ came into the world to free us from sins and the bonds of sin. By taking on the punishment of sin for us, he claimed ultimate power over sin and death and now invites us to participate in this victory of life. Christians have a very healthy and proper understanding of death: those who have gone before us are in need of our prayers so that they may become saints. It is through sainthood, and through the power of prayer from those still on earth for the departed souls, that the power of death is transformed into the means by which we are brought back to a life in God. Still, coping with the deaths of those we love can be debilitating and may even evoke anger or doubt in God. When we deal with the suffering that is attached to death, we must understand that God also underwent a human death for us in the person of Christ. 

“Death” is not a consequence of sin - the corruption of the human body is the consequence. It is through death that we prepare to be awakened by God for our new life in Him, with hope in the resurrection of our physical bodies when all creation is awakened to perfection. We know this about death because, in his perfectly created state before the Fall, Adam was cast into a deep sleep by God so that he would be awakened to a new life with his bride Eve, who was brought forth from his side. In this same way, as the new Adam, Christ underwent a “sleep” in the form of his death on the cross. Immediately after he breathed his last, a soldier pierced his side and blood and water spilled forth. It is this moment that Christ’s bride, his Church, is created in the matter of baptism (water or blood). It was through the Church that flourished and grew after the earthly life of Christ that Adam’s words about Eve are exemplified: “This one at last is bone of my bones, flesh of my flesh.” It was through Christ’s death that a new life became available, especially for those members of his Heavenly Bride, who was created specifically for participation in the Heavenly feast.

What a lovely concept that not only is death capable of being overcome through the power of Christ, but that we as a human community have the opportunity to lift souls up to Heaven even while still living on earth. It was simply pure love that drove God to become one of us specifically so that He could die for us. He will not take away death, but instead transforms it by participating in it with us, overcoming it, and raising everyone else up who dies in Him. In this way, death brings about new life. Christ came into this world to cleave God to humanity in a physical way, to be bone of his bone, flesh of his flesh, and it was through his death that all humans now have the opportunity to be brought into this new life physically. The commemoration of the lives of those who have preceded us in death should consist of two things for us here on earth: ardent prayers for the repose of the souls of the faithful departed, and a celebration of Christ conquering death as a punishment for sin, and transforming it into an opportunity for us to be awakened to new life in him, especially as one, holy, Catholic, and apostolic community. 

6: 1-11 - The Father of the House

Physical church buildings are like our own houses, in which we live as a community, share in meal, and worship God together. Through the church, we behave as we ought to in our own homes through these aspects. When we consider our own living situations now, very few of us still reside in the homes in which we grew up. We may move far away from our hometowns, and we may even move from place to place, but it is common for us to return to the home of our parents for special occasions. Our parental homes are more than just a common meeting place for our families; they represent the very thing that holds our families together - the headship of our mothers and fathers. This is why cathedrals are our “mother” churches depending on where we live: here is where the chairs of our father figures, bishops, reside. This is why the arch-basilica of Saint John Lateran in Rome is the “mother” church for all Catholics. Within this house resides the chair of the headship of our Church - the Pope.

The Pope is the “head of the household” of Roman Catholicism. He is the father figure that takes on the responsibilities a father has for his wife and his children, which in the case of the Pope, is the Catholic Church and we, her faithful, respectively. Primary among the responsibilities of a father is to be the protective guardian of the house and its inhabitants from the dangers of the outside world, whether that danger be real and tangible or spiritual and theological. There have been poor Popes, good Popes, and even great Popes, though to be given this last distinction is rare. Pope Saint Leo the Great is one of the few popes who have been given the title of “Great”, though the title was rightfully earned. Perhaps the most widely known anecdote of his papacy was when the city of Rome was in danger of being sacked by the infamous Attila the Hun. Leo left the city to meet Attila and implore him not to sack Rome. According to tradition, Attila was so impressed with Leo that he spared Rome on his notorious invasion spree of Italian towns and cities. In this story, Leo embodied fatherly protection over the people for which he was responsible.

Although Leo was “Great”, the same cannot be said for every pope in our history. Sometimes, our Holy Fathers miss the mark and abandon the protective responsibilities of their office. This should not discourage us as we study the history of the Church; in the book of Wisdom, we hear that people who are given power directly from God can still abuse it if they choose. Like in the Gospel, when Jesus heals ten lepers yet only one returns to give thanks, men in their limitations and sinfulness are called by God to be Pope. Some have praised God and served Him with that power while others have abused it, but all were given the gift of this authority through the Holy Spirit. We must pray for our Holy Father so that he can be strengthened to forego the temptations of power and continue to be our guardian and the father of God’s house on earth every day.

7: 7-11 - The Allure of Wisdom

In the Old Testament, the Ketuvim, the section of the Bible that focuses on different genres of writing that is independent from the Law and the Prophets, expands on elements that are central to understanding God. Among the most important and most referenced is wisdom. Wisdom is the full expression of the will of God; through His infinite wisdom, He participates in His creation for its own salvation, while permitting free will and extracting goodness from even the worst of sins. Interestingly, wisdom is not described as a mere attribute; it is personified and given the metaphorical identity of a woman - Lady Wisdom (Sophia in Greek). 

The way Wisdom is described in the Ketuvim is like a truly exceptional woman; her allure may never be fully appreciated or realized until you attain wisdom. Wisdom delivers someone from the distractions of this world or the false attractiveness of material goods. Wisdom is loved and appreciated for her own sake, whereas material goods tempt us away from appreciating the true essence of goodness, far removed from mere senses. Heaven and Hell work the same way. Only in God do we find true happiness and goodness, whereas a life separated from Him may attract us because of what it appears to offer, but could never provide substantive meaning or love. Those who are truly wise are those who know God and His ways. As a result, “Lady Wisdom” is present alongside God in Heaven. Why is Wisdom personified? Is Lady Wisdom real, and if so, who is she?

Wisdom and God’s Word are inextricably linked. The Word of God penetrates our heart and opens ourselves up to the reception of Wisdom. There is a marriage between the Word and Wisdom that produces unending love, sacrifice, and grace. Therefore, the Word has given himself fully to Wisdom, and Wisdom has given herself fully to the Word. We know that the Word became incarnate in the person of Jesus Christ, and his bride is the Church, which, like Eve, formed out of his side on the cross. We still address the Church today as the bride of Christ, and remain obedient to her authority and doctrine precisely because she is wise. Wisdom is formed and built up through experience, trial, and a proper orientation. After 2,000 years of experience, trials, and orientation towards God, the Church can truly be considered wise, both practically and spiritually. Although Lady Wisdom should NOT be considered a real person in the same way the Word can be, the Church is the best expression of who she is, both as bride of Christ and as an alluring, motherly presence to the community of believers.

18: 14 - 19: 9 - Our Journey Home

Within our lives, there are moments when we experience a call or an urge to go and fulfill that which our heart tells us to do. Human history, and countless other myths, stories, and archetypes, are filled with cases of individuals that go off on a journey in order to seek a specific goal or an end. Even if our own individual lives may not be as exciting as an epic story of adventure that follows this narrative, we still each have our own goals and our own ends in life that we continuously work towards. Even if we don’t realize it, our hearts may pull us toward something that sets us off on our own journeys and our own adventures.

America has a rich history of individuals who came here to seek after something, usually a better life for themselves or their family. They underwent long and arduous journeys, and continued to work hard once they arrived here for a greater good. St. Frances Xavier Cabrini is one such example, born in Italy but who journeyed to America because of a deep calling for missionary work. Her original desire was to do mission work in China or eastern Asia, but God had decided that her calling and the subsequent journey that led to a fulfillment of that calling was here in the West. She was an immeasurably valuable person for the Catholics and the poor of major American cities; she was the first American citizen to be canonized a saint, is considered one of the most important women in the history of New York City, and is now the patron saint of immigrants, all because she set off on the journey to fulfill that goal she was called for. 

The story of “Mother Cabrini” and the stories of so many journeyers recall the story of the Israelites in Exodus. None of the Israelites had ever been to their “homeland” in Canaan, but were willing to follow Moses on a treacherous journey to the Promised Land because they knew they were meant to be there. Our own souls are on a treacherous journey to the end we desire. It is human nature to be driven by the desire of being reunited with God, but it takes a long and difficult voyage to get there, which many are not willing to undergo. It requires perseverance, determination, and a deep understanding that all will be worth it when we arrive home where we belong. Each person is struggling through this journey. We should approach others with empathy and help each other journey to God together, so that we may also reach that end for which we were created.