Live Wisely

The way of the wise person, Lao Tzu taught, is the way of water. One translation of the Tao Te Ching puts it this way:

Nothing is weaker than water,

But when it attacks something hard

Or resistant, then nothing withstands it,

And nothing will alter its way.

Wisdom, he teaches, like water, is fluid, transparent, forceful, shaped by the channels it passes through–which it also shapes–reflective, responsive to change in temperature, capable of holding things in solution…and so on. The water metaphors that teach us about wisdom are plentiful.

As with much wisdom literature, counterparts to this ancient Chinese text can be found in other traditions. The Hebrew scriptures teach that the wise person is one who listens to God—seeking wisdom beyond the “common sense” of humankind, open to mystery, paradox, transcendence. Wisdom, we read in the stories of David and Solomon and the book of Proverbs, is the defining characteristic of a good leader, who is fair-minded, quick-witted, capable of seeking out and waiting for good counsel, respectful of elders, diligent, humble enough to take correction. In addition to much of this, Muslim tradition teaches that “Wisdom consists in keeping silent, and those who practice it are few.” A wise person seeks understanding of the prophet’s teachings, and studies how to interpret them.

Jesus’ teaching about wisdom both affirms and transcends these widely-held notions about what it means to be wise. Directing them to a new level of awareness and understanding, he assured his disciples that something “greater than Solomon” was among them.  Wisdom is relational, not propositional, and the primary relationship in which it is developed is not with others or self, but with the One who is “the Way.” At twelve he taught his elders in the temple with wisdom “beyond his years,” but also confounded them. The Spirit sent to the disciples on Pentecost filled them with a wisdom their adversaries “could not withstand.”

Wisdom, it seems, is multifaceted, practical, sometimes bewildering and, perhaps most importantly, open to direction from a Source beyond the rational mind. It pleases me to find that wise and wit come from the same Germanic root: wis. Wit and wisdom have a lot to do with each other. Many of Jesus’ encounters with adversaries are witty: he evades their traps and baffles them with riddles (Whose head is on the coin? Would you rescue a sheep on the Sabbath? Who do you say that I am?) Though there is little said about laughter in the Gospels, parables have punch lines of a sort, or reversals that surprise us into reframing and reimagining what goodness and godliness look like.

If we are to live wisely in the times we’re given—polarized, complicated, bewildering, fast-paced, darkened by global threats, challenging to the best minds—we need to pray for and practice the ancient wisdom that will still serve us well—wisdom articulated perhaps best in the Beatitudes, which are not simple teachings, but deep, disturbing, paradoxical, heart-opening challenges to “common sense.” We need to let ourselves be blessed, made poor in spirit, open to sorrow, humbled, eager for righteousness rather than celebrity. And, like water, willing patiently, in a landscape full of obstacles, to seek and find a way.

Image: autumn stream from Wikimedia Commons