Wisdom of Solomon

Midweek Worship

Twelfth Week after Pentecost

Semicontinuous Reading: 1 Kings 2:10-12; 3:3-14

Homily:

Lord, we pray for the preacher, for You know his sins are great.

Grace, mercy and peace to you from God our Father and from our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. Amen.

Our reward for following faithfully the epic rise and fall of King David is that we come now to the reign of Solomon, his favored son. Solomon shall usher in a golden age for the Kingdom of Israel, a time of wealth, peace, prosperity, international influence, great architectural projects, economic alliances, and world-renowned wisdom. His reign is the stuff of legends.

As David was a man of bronze and blood, so Solomon is a man of ink and gold. He shall rule with his mind, not with his fists. His Israel shall no longer be an upstart nation, carving out her place in the world, but a pivotal player by land and by sea, a nexus of learning, trade, and travel.

Under Solomon shall the Temple be built. Under Solomon shall the Queen of Sheba and King of Tyre come to offer their friendship. Under Solomon shall the princess of Egypt marry the King of Israel—the ancient line of Pharaoh intermingling with former slaves. Quite the coup, really.

But all that’s mostly in the future, for the moment. In today’s reading from the Book of Kings, Solomon is a newly minted prince upon the throne, trying to fill his father’s very large and gore-spattered shoes. He gave him a kill-list right before he died, you know—David on his deathbed settling old scores, like the final scenes from The Godfather. And Solomon seems to have learned his lessons.

The Scriptures’ only criticism of him is that he has a tendency to worship in “the high places,” and not exclusively in the cult at Jerusalem as his father had established. It was during one of these extracurricular liturgies that God came to Solomon in a dream. Have you ever had one of those, a dream but not a dream, so real and so vivid that upon waking you just know that it really happened, that it was a vision?

“Ask what I should give you,” says God to the new crowned king.

And Solomon replies that, “You, O Lord, have been faithful to my father David, and have kept all your promises to him and to his heir. And so now, Lord, I ask only that you grant to me an understanding mind”—or, more literally, a listening heart—“in order to govern your people, and to discern both good and evil.” Solomon answers wisely because he answers selflessly. His concern is for others, and for the responsibility that he has for their welfare. Heavy is the head that wears the crown. Help me, O Lord, to be my brother’s keeper.

And this response greatly pleases God. “Because you have asked this,” sayeth the Lord, “and have not asked for yourself long life or riches or victory in battle, I will do as you ask. I will grant to you a wise and discerning mind; and on top of that, I shall grant you what you have not asked: riches and honor and length of days.” The prosperity of Solomon’s reign and the acuteness of Solomon’s mind are not here attributed to the actions of the king or his father, but solely to the graces and the mercies of their God. All good things do come from God, for God alone is good.

Notice the implicit connection between wisdom and compassion. Wisdom is not wiliness. It isn’t looking out for number one. Wisdom is selflessness, self-sacrifice, putting the good of others before one’s own. It goes hand-in-hand with morality, discerning right and wrong, and with piety, humbly acknowledging the debt we bear to God and our duty to our neighbor.

Wisdom furthermore has to do with listening and understanding. This implies the dignity of everyone we meet; for everyone is worthy of attentive understanding. Classically speaking, wisdom is the virtue of connecting to transcendence—reaching up, so to speak, to the outpouring of the Beautiful, the Good, and the True—then living one’s life accordingly. Such is the wisdom of Solomon, reflecting the Wisdom of God.

Later legends would play this theme out. Solomon, they would say, was a sorcerer, who had a menagerie of fantastic beasts, such as a worm that could slice any object; as well as magical accoutrements, like his ring, the Seal of Solomon, with which he could summon, contain, and control any demon. Obviously, none of this is in Scripture. They’re all later tall tales. And on the one hand, we could see how such stories might serve to emphasize the biblical theme that with the Wisdom of God, all things might be possible.

Yet on the other hand, these medieval myths get things exactly backward, for they have to do with man’s mastery over the natural and preternatural worlds: the exact opposite of what Solomon requested. He didn’t ask for power for himself. He didn’t ask to cast magical spells. He asked to be a good king, by being first a good man: to know right from wrong, good from evil; and to serve his people selflessly.

That, my friends, is true wisdom, because it is true love. And that indeed is the prayer that God always seems the happiest to hear, and the readiest to answer.

The Wisdom of God is selfless, humble, brave, true, respectful, compassionate, and merciful. For indeed, the Wisdom of God is God Himself, ever giving of Himself for others, ever pouring out His life for the world. So if ever you pray for the Wisdom of God, simply lower your eyes to the Cross. There you will find Him, arms outstretched, forgiving us all of our sins. There you will find both the blood and the water, ever granting new life to the dead.

Wisdom of Solomon, Wisdom of God, grant us the heart of the Christ.

In the Name of the Father and of the +Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.