Proverbs 9:1-6
Wisdom has built her house, she has hewn her seven pillars.
She has slaughtered her animals, she has mixed her wine, she
has also set her table.
She has sent out her servant girls, she calls from the highest
places in the town,
"You that are simple, turn in here!" To those
without sense she says,
"Come, eat of my bread and drink of the wine I have
mixed.
Lay aside immaturity, and live, and walk in the way of
insight."
Wisdom is
the feminine face of God in the Hebrew scriptures, one of the many metaphors
for the holy presence of the God who cannot be named, who cannot be captured in
a “graven image.” And a beautiful image of womanhood she is. Wisdom is no lady
of leisure, no frail and fainting maiden upon her couch! She built herself a
house! She has hewn her own pillars out of the rock! She has butchered her own
meat, crushed her grapes with her own bare feet and mixed her wine. All for the
sake of those who are simple, senseless, ignorant, immature. This image of
wisdom teaches us that tenderness is a feminine virtue, and so is strength. I
love that. How very proto-feminist that is.
“Come, eat
of my bread and drink of the wine I have mixed. Lay aside immaturity, and live,
and walk in the way of insight.”
Insight is
a way, a path, a road—not a destination in itself but a way of being in the
world, in the company of the wisdom, the presence—or, the image of the glory of
the presence of God. I don’t mean that people with more education are better
than people without. It doesn’t matter how many letters you have after your
name: M. Div or PhD. When I think of the saints of this congregation, many of
whom didn’t have any initials after their name except maybe “dip” for diploma,
but they were always learning, always seeking to know more. Marge Vuchetich is
one who comes to mind. And George
MacKenzie, who may have had some initials after his name but took none of them
for granted. He was always seeking more wisdom. The pursuit of wisdom is not an
end in itself, it is the path, the way, to come near to the holy one who cannot
be named or seen or engraved.
And that is why education is a
Christian value. That is why, when our spiritual ancestors built their homes in
the wilderness of New England, the first house they built was the meeting house
and schoolhouse. Every village in Plymouth Plantation with a population of 50
was required to employ a teacher. Because education is a Christian value, our
Congregational forbearers established
the first colleges and universities in North America—colleges that are still of
the best reputation in higher learning—Harvard, Yale, Dartmouth, Grinnell,
Carleton. The
Morril Act of 1862, which established land grant colleges, giving birth to
state universities across the country, was the brainchild of a Congregationalist
from Vermont. All of these institutions were designed from the first to be free
of the constraints of the church that founded them, so that the pursuit of
wisdom might be unfettered by even the best intentions of the pious. Piety is
also a Christian value, but excessive piety can give rise to hubris, pride, a
vice. Piety must be tempered by
humility, which understands that there is yet more light and truth to break
forth. Our faith is not threatened by education, because nothing true could be
a threat to God, who is truth.
Let us
continue to support our public schools, for they are the foundation not only of
our democracy, but also of our faith. Everyone must have access to Wisdom’s
table. As we give these school
kits away, to students who might be in Harare, Zimbabwe or might just as
well be in Mobile, Alabama; Port au Prince, Haiti or New Orleans, Louisiana,
let us send them with our prayers and our promises, to defend the freedom of
teachers and writers and researchers, for it is through them that the freedom
of the Spirit is at work, for the sake of the world. Amen.
