Not many wise
“Instead of complaining that God has kept himself hidden, you will give him thanks that he has made himself so visible. And you will give him further thanks that he has not revealed himself to the wise people full of pride, unworthy of knowing so holy a God.”
— Blaise Pascal
One of the hardest things that Jesus ever says, if we are to judge by the reaction of his disciples, is found in Matthew 19:23: “it will be hard for a rich person to enter the kingdom of heaven.” To my shame, however, that saying never strikes me particularly hard, mostly because I am able to deflect it. It’s easy to tell myself that I don’t qualify as a rich person, even though by global and historical standards I am among the top 1.43 percent of the richest people in the world. And aside from being easy to deflect, verses like Matthew 19:23 also tickle my preexisting political opinions: it’s easy to use the passage as a flail against American Christians who proclaim a gospel of prosperity and laissez-faire theology. It’s easier, in other words, to point out the blindspots in other people’s range of vision than it is to accept that their blindspots might be my own, which reminds of another of the hardest things that Jesus says.
I do have a plank in my own eye, though, that’s not so easy to dissolve. Jesus warns that it will be hard for the rich to enter the kingdom of heaven, but he also warned (implicitly) that it would be hard for adults. And one reason is that adults know too much — or think they do. For that reason, Paul also warns in some of his earliest recorded writing that it will be hard for the wise or the learned to heed the calling of God:
Where is the wise? Where is the scribe? Where is the disputer of this age? Has not God made foolish the wisdom of this world? For since, in the wisdom of God, the world through wisdom did not know God, it pleased God through the foolishness of the message preached to save those who believe … Because the foolishness of God is wiser than men, and the weakness of God is stronger than men. For you see your calling, brethren, that not many wise according to the flesh, not many mighty, not many noble, are called. (1 Corinthians 1:20-26, NKJV)
It will be hard, in other words, for the wise person to enter the kingdom of heaven. It will be hard, James also says, for a teacher to withstand the judgment of God. And that’s a harder camel to swallow than the line about the rich man, for me at least. Although by objective standards I am a rich person, I don’t define myself subjectively by my bank account. That is, I don’t see myself as a person whose aspirations and ambitions are defined by the pursuit of wealth. (I’m an academic, after all, and you don’t get into this business for the money.) To a significant degree, however, I do define myself by the pursuit of wisdom. That’s what I’m inclined to see as my vocation, as “who I am.” And for that reason, wisdom and learning and schooling can be as dangerous to me as worldly possessions, which is also what (in a sense) they are.
I used to think that what Paul meant in this passage to the Corinthians is that it’s hard for the wise to be called simply because their superior minds prevent them from believing. That is, it’s hard for intellectuals to come to faith because of the intellectual problems that faith poses. But I’m seeing more and more that this is also a deflection, a way of making my academic training or my intelligence or my learning a cross that I have to bear. And nothing stinks to high heaven so much as a non-martyr with a martyr complex. Perhaps Paul isn’t saying, though, that the wise have to crucify their intellects because reason poses a unique challenge to faith. The wise must crucify themselves for the same reason that all of us must, which is why the passage in 1 Corinthians also lists a series of other binaries alongside the prominent one of wisdom and foolishness. The cross is not just a goad to the wise, but also to “the mighty,” “the noble,” and, most comprehensively, to “the things that are” (vv. 26-28).
The reality is that wisdom poses roughly the same obstacles to the kingdom of heaven as wealth. In the first place, wisdom — like wealth — easily becomes a baneful source of pride. Pride, ultimately, is what makes the eye of the needle so narrow for the rich and learned alike. And wisdom — like wealth — encourages attachment to the things of this world. My ambitions may not be defined by stock portfolios, but I do have career ambitions that ground me in this world, and more particularly in the world of academia. If asked to give up those ambitions, I become as sorrowful as the rich young ruler who was told by Jesus to give his possessions to the poor. So the wisdom that is according to the world poses the same challenge to the would-be disciple as wealth: it encourages a love for the things in the world. It sets the same snare that everything in the world does: the snare of confusing the lust of the eyes and the pride of life with the will of God that abides forever.
“Then who can be saved?” “For mortals it is impossible, but for God all things are possible.”
This might actually reflect how little acquainted I am with wisdom first hand, but I wonder if the inner logic of wisdom, for Christians, is that it is possessed and used for love of neighbour, and that self-aggrandisement by means of it is so contrary to the nature of wisdom that it utterly negates its putative presence. (I certainly don’t think that wisdom is essentially inimical to God or faith. Of course it does admit of perversions, as you mentioned.) So, for teachers — who impart knowledge and form people in wisdom — perhaps the question is why do this? Is it out of an intense God-fueled love for the people you teach and a passion for your topic, whether biology, home ec., theology, or English lit.? Or is it a matter of self-aggrandisement and ego-boosting?
Of course, it is most likely the case for most of us that the answer is “some of both”, but that gives us guidance for our prayers and repentance.
Might wealth be like this? Or is it a special case? My intuition in past has been that it is the former, but more and more I think it is the latter. At any rate, it at least dominates our imaginations and our lives today, so it is difficult to think of examples of saintly use of money.
Thanks again for this reflections and ‘recollections’.
Comment by JayFout — May 23, 2006 @ 7:42 PM
Thanks for the comment, Jay. I think you’re absolutely right that there is a difference between self-aggrandizing wisdom and self-effacing wisdom–wisdom that serves others instead of boosting oneself. It’s also important that in the passages I’ve quoted, Paul refers to the “wisdom according to the flesh” and the “wisdom of this world,” to underline that his critique is not of wisdom in general, but of certain perversions of it, as you say.
I certainly don’t think that learning or wisdom is always perverse. Motive matters. But sometimes I allow the pursuit of learning and its accolades to define who I am, instead of letting who I am define how I learn and teach.
It’s also important that Jesus says it is difficult for the rich to enter the kingdom, but not impossible with God. Likewise, Paul says “not many wise” according to the world’s standards are called, but he doesn’t say not any. As Pascal puts it in the epigram, it is the “wise people full of pride” who have a hard time knowing God.
I’ve been reading Saint Augustine’s Confessions lately, and this post springs in part from my reactions to Augustine’s own struggles to cast away the baubles of worldly prestige and academic standing (”what passes for wealth in this world” is the way he puts it in this quote). So much of what he says, particularly at the beginning of Part II, resonates with some of my own feelings and experiences.
Comment by Recollector — May 23, 2006 @ 8:53 PM