Wisdom for Dust

Today the Scripture sets wisdom beside mortality. Solomon is granted a discerning heart because he asks not for long life, nor riches, nor the death of enemies, but for judgment fit to serve God’s people. Job, meanwhile, teaches us what sort of creatures need such wisdom: men of few days, unclean, fading like a flower, unable by their own strength to escape the sentence of death. If we remember only Solomon’s honor, we grow proud; if we remember only Job’s frailty, we fall into sloth. But taken together, these readings teach humility, prayer, and mercy.

Tertullian says of Solomon, “But with respect to this man, since, when a choice was left to him, he preferred asking for what he knew to be well-pleasing to God — even wisdom — he further merited the attainment of the riches, which he did not prefer.” Therefore let us first seek what is pleasing to God, not what flatters our appetite. The man who knows he is dust should not spend his prayer on vanities.

Job also strips away presumption. “Nullus est a sorde mundus, ait Job,” says Clement: none is clean from stain. Therefore repentance is not for beginners only, but for all. And the wisdom that comes from God is not clever speech; it is seen when life is chosen over destruction, as in Solomon’s judgment over the child. The wise man does not seize, boast, or devour. He guards the weak, refuses bloodguilt, and judges with compassion.

So then, because our days are brief, let us ask for the better gift: a heart made obedient, hands ready for justice, and a tongue restrained from evil before we return to the dust.