September 8, 2024
I wasn’t really planning on doing a sermon series in September, but that’s the way it’s worked out. Last week, I talked about wisdom literature in the Bible, and how the Letter of James was the main example of New Testament wisdom. And today, I’m talking about what I think many of us see as the quintessential example of Old Testament wisdom—namely, the Proverbs.
James and Proverbs have more in common than we might think at first glance. Remember last week that I said Martin Luther called James an “epistle of straw” because it doesn’t contain the gospel—that is, it doesn’t talk about the death and resurrection of Jesus. Well, the Book of Proverbs was one of the last books included by Hebrew scholars in the canon of scripture, because it doesn’t talk about redemption or the law. We know that James believed in the crucifixion and resurrection; it’s just that his letter had something else to say—something important. And so it is with Proverbs. Just because it doesn’t talk about the law of God and the redemption of the Hebrew people doesn’t mean that those concepts weren’t important to the writer (or writers) of the Proverbs.
Proverbs is one of those books that we can’t really put a date to. That’s because it was compiled over many years (over many centuries, actually). And it also contains many different types of scripture. Today’s reading from the end of Proverbs 21 and the beginning of Proverbs 22 is, I think, what most of us expect from this book: short, pithy sayings that we might think of as the common sense of our elders. No matter when these proverbs were written, it’s obvious that they were spoken long before they ever found themselves in a book (or written on a scroll).
But there are other sections of the Proverbs that clearly come from a different tradition. In the early part of the book, we find very lofty and poetic verses:
Listen as Wisdom calls out! Hear as understanding raises her voice! On the hilltop along the road, she takes her stand at the crossroads!
—Prov. 8:1-2
No book talks more about wisdom than the Book of Proverbs. The way we think about wisdom is something like this: Knowledge is having information; wisdom is knowing how to use the information we’ve got. For example: Knowledge is knowing that a tomato is actually a fruit; wisdom is knowing not to put it in a fruit salad.
The scriptures don’t contradict our modern definition of wisdom. But in the Bible, wisdom is much more foundational than just a simple definition of a clever saying. And nowhere is that clearer than in Proverbs:
The Lord formed me from the beginning, before he created anything else. I was appointed in ages past, at the very first, before the earth began. I was born before the oceans were created, before the springs bubbled forth their waters. Before the mountains were formed, before the hills, I was born—before he had made the earth and fields and the first handfuls of soil. I was there when he established the heavens…
—Prov. 8:22-27a
According to Proverbs, before the heavens or the oceans or the earth, God created wisdom. And wisdom was the basis of the rest of creation. So if we take this notion and adapt it to what we now know about the beginnings of the universe: Before the big bang, God had a plan for an incredible explosion that happened over thirteen billion years ago—a plan to bring order out of the chaos. Maybe it happened in more than one place in the universe, I don’t know. But I know it happened here, in our little world: Order somehow emerged from chaos; wisdom established a foothold in the void.
Such ideas are obviously beyond my ability to talk about them. But in all this talk of wisdom, I wanted us to remember that we all part of an ongoing explosion. And so as we sit here on this rock flying through the universe, the miracle of wisdom is probably God’s most amazing creation and God’s most unbelievable gift to us. The ground we stand on and the air we breathe are against all odds in the scheme of things.
Beyond that, the country we live in and the community that surrounds us—this is also part of God’s plan. And most meaningfully of all, perhaps especially today, the people that help bring order to our lives are living demonstrations of God’s wisdom.
Which brings me to a verse right in the middle of this morning’s scripture reading. The translation in our pew Bibles says to choose a good reputation over great riches; being held in high esteem is better than silver or gold [22:1]. The Hebrew literally says a good name—an expression I think we still use when talking about people with good reputations.
Sometimes we associate a good reputation with money or a powerful position or an exclusive address. But this old proverb seems to separate having a good name from what tends to impress so many of us—a big bank account or the kind of job that opens doors.
A lot of these proverbs are attributed to King Solomon, and the relationship between Solomon and Jesus is often tenuous at best. But here I think the connection might be a little easier to make. Jesus wasn’t impressed by money or power, and he was willing to lend his good Name to people outside the circles of power—very often to those who were outcasts. And it’s this model that Christians should want to live up to: not what you can do for me, but what I can do for you; serving, not being served.
I can think of many ways we can serve others, but today I’m thinking of wisdom—the gift of God that brings order to the universe, to our world, and to our lives. Finding your place in the universe and playing your part in the steady rhythm of life may not sound like wisdom, but in the grand scheme of things, it is. There’s a lot to be said for “changing things up a bit”; and those who innovate often become rich and famous. But the truly wise offer us shelter from the storm; they stand by us, and offer us a steady hand so that we can renew our strength.
When we come to church, we need to be challenged. The pastor or the leadership or the musicians need to occasionally throw a monkey wrench into the works, so that are our lives are challenged from time to time. But more than that, we gain strength from the patterns of scripture and prayer, music and community. And though the pastor is usually the one standing front and center when we come here seeking stability in the chaos of the world, there’s one person sitting behind the pastor who has probably done more to anchor us than anyone else.
For how many pastors have their been since 1952? And how many organists? When I think of the over three thousand worship services Ann Doersam has played over the past seventy-plus years, I am amazed; the thousands of beloved hymns she’s led us in singing; the thousands of times she has played the first chord of the Gloria Patri or the Doxology; the brides she’s introduced as they’ve come down the aisle to the strains of Wagner, the newly married couples she’s sent forth into the world while playing Mendelssohn; the loved ones she’s gently helped us say goodbye to at funerals here in this sanctuary—that, brothers and sisters, is a form of wisdom.
In a time when worship services were becoming increasingly disordered, frantic, and manipulative, John Greenleaf Whittier penned these words, calling for the wisdom of order:
Drop thy still dews of quietness
till all our strivings cease;
take from our souls the strain and stress,
and let our ordered lives confess
the beauty of thy peace.
Ann, thank you for showing up all these years; for answering God’s call to use your gift to lift the congregation’s mind and spirit heavenward, and for helping to create order in a chaotic world. The proverb says, Choose a good reputation over great riches; being held in high esteem is better than silver or gold. Your reputation at Pilgrim Christian Church is good indeed, and your name is better than gold.
—©2024 Sam Greening
