Trinity Sunday

Shopping for a car can be an interesting process.

After checking out Consumer Reports and the Kelly Blue Book and deciding on the preferred options and extras, you figure out just the kind of car you want. You know the MSRP and the dealer invoice on the model. All that is left to find out is how much the car will actually cost you and whether you can afford it. So you go to the auto dealer, find the car that meets your specifications and ask the salesperson the crucial question, “How much?” The rest of the conversation goes something like this.

Salesperson: She’s a beaut, isn’t she? You: Yeah, but how much?

Salesperson: And the power of that engine is just awesome! You: Yeah, but how much? Salesperson: And did you notice how roomy it is? You: Yeah, but how much? Salesperson: How about a drive? She handles like a dream. You: That’s okay. How

much?

Salesperson: Well then, I guess you want to know how much it costs. You: Yeah, how much?

Salesperson: I don’t know. The manager is out to lunch, so we can’t do any real negotiating. Can you come back later?

Now compare that scene to the scene in today’s Lesson from Proverbs.

You: What is wisdom? Wisdom: I was created at the beginning of the world.

You: That’s nice, but what is wisdom? Wisdom: I was here before the waters.

You: Okay, but what is wisdom? Wisdom: I was here before the mountains and hills took shape.

You: Good for you, but what is wisdom? Wisdom: I was present at the formation of the heavens and at the groundbreaking ceremony of the earth.

You: I’m happy for you, but all I really want to know is WHAT IS WISDOM? Wisdom: When you find me you will be very happy.

You: Aaargh!

So you decide to take matters into your own hands and find wisdom for yourself. The first part of our text says that Wisdom is standing at the crossroads in the city shouting at the top of her lungs for folks to heed her words of wisdom. So, what better place to go to find wisdom than to go to the city? As you begin your search for Wisdom, the first thing you notice is how many voices there are in the city, each competing with the others for attention.

There are the environmental voices: the wheezing of buses and trucks, unable in their off-and-on progress to find their full voice; the car horns encoding harsh words for the discourteous and careless; the ear-shattering speech of jack hammers as they insist on their way against layers of asphalt and concrete; rivet guns stuttering in their work high overhead; and added to all of this is disembodied music coming from everywhere and nowhere.

Then there is the cacophony of human sounds: street vendors hawking their wares; scores of conversations being carried on simultaneously; and instructions being yelled from foreman to worker, from storeowner to delivery person, from teacher to her students on a field trip. 

One thing is for certain – if you expect to hear the voice of Wisdom, you will need to listen carefully, for hers is not the only voice clamoring for your attention.

Just as challenging as the multitude of voices is the variety of crossroads. Which one should you choose? If you were Wisdom, where would you set up shop in order to be heard? You decide to begin at Raymond James’ home office in St. Pete. If there is one thing people care about the most, it is their pocketbook. I know it’s important to me. And the terms ‘wise,’ ‘prudent,’ and ‘investment’ seem to hang out a lot together, so perhaps this is the logical place to start.

At Raymond James, you watch as the computer screens report continuously the movement of stock prices and their effect on the world markets. Share values move up sharply, hesitate, drop as sharply as when they rose, and then move back up again. You can see portfolio managers, telephone receivers to both ears, frantically trying first to understand and then to react to the erratic fluctuations. You look hard and listen intently, but Wisdom does not seem to be here.

Next, you move on to International Plaza. After all, with its volume of traffic, the mall is a more likely crossroad than the financial district. You immediately notice a long line of folks atwitter with excitement queued up in front of a store called Sophie’s. They are calling to one another, “It’s here! It’s here!’ You think to yourself, “Sophie is a form of Sophia and Sophia means wisdom and they’re saying, ‘It’s here,’ so maybe I’m right. This is the crossroad I’ve been searching for. Wisdom must be here.”

So you join the line as it moves slowly into the store. The closer you approach the focus of attention, the more excited the scene becomes. Then comes your turn to step forward and as you do, your heart falls. You aren’t in line for wisdom after all — only some new line of perfume.

Nevertheless, you stay a while to watch and listen. So many stores. So much to buy.  Everywhere from buyer to seller, money is changing hands. A voice from the past reminds you that what you are seeing is the engine of growth — the economic system at its best.

Then you hear a baby crying. And suddenly you envision other babies in other lands crying, not in an opulent, gilt-laden bazaar, but in a desolate, nourishment-starved land. You ask yourself, “Could such frenetic spending in a world of need be the home of Wisdom? Could the whirring of cash registers be the voice of Wisdom?” You decide to look further.

At the USF campus, where knowledge is celebrated and learning is prized, you are certain Wisdom can be found. As you walk through the hallways of the classroom buildings, you hear interesting, wonder-filled, exciting things: lectures examining the events of history, descriptions of the interrelatedness of the universe and the passions of the heart seeking expression in poetic words too inadequate to contain them. But — but is wisdom the same as knowledge? Is knowledge found in wisdom or is wisdom found in knowledge? Obviously, you have spent too much time in the philosophy lecture. It’s time to move on.

You look for Wisdom in the halls of justice at the County Courthouse. You listen for her voice during a hockey game at the Amalie Arena.  You search out every crossroad imaginable, but she is not to be found. The day is spent, evening arrives, and you feel no wiser for your efforts than you did when the day began. Tired of body and spirit and with no other options presenting themselves, you sit down to reflect on your day. How could the writer of Proverbs have been so wrong?

Wisdom is not in the city, nor could her voice be heard at the crossroads. You feel cheated. But then you begin to think.  What if Wisdom, unlike knowledge, is not a state of being, or a destination at which one finally arrives. Rather, what if Wisdom, like faith, is merely bread for the journey — a companion for one’s pilgrim walk?

Maybe wisdom is not something we possess, but something that possesses us, coming as it does at crucial moments of life providing guidance and direction. Perhaps it is a serendipitous gift delivered by the grace of God. If that is so, then maybe you have been hearing the voice of Wisdom throughout the day and at every crossroad you encountered — a voice whose silent murmurings kept you from falling prey to the enticements of competing voices; a voice that kept calling you back to a reverence of God from which all Wisdom originates.

Instead of you finding Wisdom, for one brief moment, Wisdom found you.