For all of our scientific and technological knowledge, humanity remains woefully ignorant of the spiritual realm and the ways of God. Two world wars, the Holocaust, countless genocides and the continuing degradation of the Earth suggest that humans are technological giants but moral and spiritual pygmies. Often we discover how to do or make things long before we have the maturity and wisdom to use them wisely and justly. Wisdom and intelligence are not the same thing. “We can hardly guess at what is on Earth” is a sobering check on our own hubris and overconfidence. What we claim to understand is but a sliver of the big picture. New discoveries constantly call today’s scientific sureties into question and the past is littered with many inadequate theories and models of reality. We smile or even sneer at the ideas and attitudes of the past, while blissfully unaware that our own will soon join them. Our intellectual prowess has not brought us peace, justice or even lasting happiness — no wonder Wisdom took human pretensions to task. Far better, Wisdom insisted, to seek the one form of knowledge that will lead to righteous living and human happiness — the wisdom of God. In fact, that should be the primary concern of every person, regardless of rank, station or state of life.

The wisdom of God is not to be found primarily in human traditions or customs. To be sure, we should cast our net wide in the wisdom and religious traditions of the world. But they are to be studied with an open and inquiring mind, the willingness to strike out in new directions and profound humility.

Paul had been illuminated with divine wisdom that was the fruit of his relationship with Jesus Christ. He was trying to lead Philemon in new directions, especially when it concerned human relationships. Slavery was an accepted and pervasive institution at the time — people took it as a given — but it had no place in God’s plans for humanity. Rather than a direct attack on Philemon, Paul tried gentle persuasion: since they were all brothers in the Lord, Philemon should look upon Onesimus in a new light and treat him accordingly. Even after 2,000 years, we still have a long way to go in applying this simple but revolutionary principle.
Spiritual tradition tells us that the true giver is the one who does not count the cost. The parables of Jesus, however, imply that we are to sit down and calculate the cost of a major spiritual undertaking. The contradiction is solved when we consider the context of the two parables — they are sandwiched between two very hard sayings on discipleship. The first demands that we take up our cross and pay no heed to the pull of family, friends and even life itself, while the second requires that we give up all our possessions. Not exactly a great recruiting poster! The purpose was to let prospective disciples know what they were in for — not an easy life or a shortcut to God but one of sacrifice and even suffering. He distinguished between real disciples and those who are along for a free ride. The individuals in the parables were great on talk and probably had good intentions, but they didn’t pack the gear to see their project through. The message: don’t sign on unless you are willing to give what is required — and expect that it will be a lot.

The early Christian communities did not play a numbers game. They were looking for a few brave souls willing to be disciples in every sense — servants of the Word and of humanity. The first reading exhorted us to seek divine wisdom and the ways of God. Our own hurting world calls for the building of communities of disciples rather than members of an institution. What could be wiser than that?