Light From (and Upon) the Readable Books 16: Sirach and Lady Wisdom

(Sirach 24:1-23, 51:13-29, 5:1-2; Psalm 18 (LXX)/19 (MT): 8-10; Ezekiel 3:3; Mat 11:19b, 28-29; John 4:14, 6:35, 6:51-57; 1 Cor 1:30; Rev 22:17; Isaiah 55:1)

Sirach, along with the book of Proverbs, Wisdom of Solomon, and other Jewish books, says a good deal about “Wisdom,” often picturing her as an honored Lady who is to be sought, and who protects and nurtures the one who finds her.  We saw in the last episode that Wisdom is intimately connected with deep reverence for God.  But to learn more about Wisdom, we must read chapters 24 and 51 of Sirach, which encourage us to prize her above all things.  Here is the first focussed passage, Sirach 24:1-23:


Wisdom will praise herself, and will glory in the midst of her people.  In the assembly of the Most High she will open her mouth, and in the presence of his host she will glory: 

“I came forth from the mouth of the Most High, and covered the earth like a mist.  I dwelt in high places, and my throne was in a pillar of cloud. Alone I have made the circuit of the vault of heaven and have walked in the depths of the abyss. In the waves of the sea, in the whole earth, and in every people and nation I have gotten a possession. Among all these I sought a resting place; I sought in whose territory I might lodge. Then the Creator of all things gave me a commandment, and the one who created me assigned a place for my tent. And he said, ‘Make your dwelling in Jacob, and in Israel receive your inheritance.’ 

From eternity, in the beginning, He created me, and for eternity I shall not cease to exist.  In the holy tabernacle I ministered before Him, and so I was established in Zion.  In the beloved city likewise He gave me a resting place, and in Jerusalem was my dominion.  So I took root in an honored people, in the portion of the Lord, who is their inheritance.  I grew tall like a cedar in Lebanon, and like a cypress on the heights of Hermon. I grew tall like a palm tree in En-ge’di, and like rose plants in Jericho; like a beautiful olive tree in the field, and like a plane tree I grew tall.  Like cassia and camel’s thorn I gave forth the aroma of spices, and like choice myrrh I spread a pleasant odor, like galbanum, onyx, and oil of myrrh, and like the fragrance of frankincense in the tabernacle. Like a terebinth I spread out my branches, and my branches are glorious and graceful. Like a vine I caused loveliness to bud, and my blossoms became glorious and abundant fruit.

Come to me, you who desire me, and eat your fill of my fruits.  For the remembrance of me is sweeter than honey, and my inheritance sweeter than the honeycomb. Those who eat me will hunger for more, and those who drink me will thirst for more.  Whoever obeys me will not be put to shame, and those who work with my help will not sin.”

All this is the book of the covenant of the Most High God, the law which Moses commanded us as an inheritance for the congregations of Jacob.

Except for the introductory phrase and the final concluding summary, this entire passage is a speech of Wisdom, who praises herself, both in the congregation of the faithful, and amidst the hosts of heaven.  When human beings praise themselves, of course, we raise our eyebrows.  But Wisdom’s words are a different matter, since she is eternal, the confidant of God, and the root of many virtues. And the self-praise that she utters amounts to telling us both of her transcendent origin and her immanence among us in the world: the praises are for our sake, to entice us to seek her, not to establish her own glory. She comes from God’s own mouth, and knows the secrets of the entire cosmos but humbly dwells among humankind—specifically, in history, among the Hebrew people where God established both his Temple and his Torah. “I came forth from the mouth of the Most High, and covered the earth like a mist.  I dwelt in high places…, alone walked the depths of the abyss, ….and in every people and nation I have gotten a possession. . . Among all these I sought a resting place and [the Creator] said, ‘Make your dwelling in Jacob, and in Israel receive your inheritance.”  We begin, then, with the picture of a divine being who seeks to dwell among humanity, and is given a particular home in Zion. 

At this point, the love-language begins.  We hear of the quality of Wisdom as though she were a breath-taking part of nature, like a mighty, tall, supple, aromatic, and fruit-bearing tree, or vine: “I caused loveliness to bud, and my blossoms became glorious and abundant fruit.”  The description from Wisdom’s own mouth is not intended as self-glorification, but as an enticement to us that we should desire her beauty, her scent, her fruit.  She issues the invitation, “Come to me, you who desire me, and eat your fill of my fruits.  For the remembrance of me is sweeter than honey, and my inheritance sweeter than the honeycomb.” 

Of course, this language should be ringing bells for those who love the Scriptures—we hear echoes both of the Old and New Testament.  There is the well-known verse in Psalm 18 LXX/19 (Hebrew), which speaks of the Law of God in this memorable way:  “The law of the LORD is blameless…the commandment of the LORD is bright…the judgments of the LORD are true…more to be desired are they than gold and a very precious stone, sweeter also than honey and the honeycomb” (8-10).  Similarly, the prophet Ezekiel, on eating the scroll of God’s commandments, tasted honey in his mouth, even though the implications of God’s word might have been difficult to hear (Ezekiel 3:3).  Jewish children are given honey or honeycakes to taste as they begin their Torah lessons, a concrete illustration of this sweetness of God’s word.  We may think also of Jesus’ words to those listening to Him, “Come unto me, all you who labour” (Matt 11:28-9), and his encouragement in John 6:51-57, “I am the living bread which came down from heaven… he who feeds on me will live because of me.”

So, then, when Wisdom offers herself, and speaks of the importance of “remembering” her, we may flash back to the giving of the Torah, which was life to the Hebrews in the midst of pagan, blood-thirsty, and blind nations, and flash forward to Jesus, who fulfilled that Torah by giving Himself for us and dwelling among us concretely.  Any of the words of Wisdom will be so delightful that the one who receives them will want more and more: “Those who eat me will hunger for more, and those who drink me will thirst for more.” It remains true that we can never exhaust God’s grace to us, and that we will desire more and more of it.  And yet, with what Jesus offers, something else happens—it satisfies completely, and we never will be longing for sweetness anywhere else.  As he said to the Samaritan woman, “Whoever drinks of the water that I shall give him will never thirst, but the water that I shall give will become in him a fountain of water springing up into everlasting life” (John 4:14).  As he said to his disciples, “I am the bread of life.  He who comes to Me shall never hunger, and he who believes in me shall never thirst” (John 6:35). 

As the true Wisdom, then, Jesus is to us true water and true bread, and fulfills every human longing.  Sirach comments regarding Wisdom’s words, “All this [of which Wisdom speaks] is the book of the covenant of the Most High God, the law which Moses” (Sirach 24:23)  In a way, that is true, for the covenant of God’s love and the Torah were the foretaste, the sign pointing to the One who would be Wisdom incarnate, and who would show us what true humanity is like, forging a way for us to become like Him.  As the apostle Paul reminds us, “You are in Christ Jesus, who became for us wisdom from God” (1 Cor 1:30).  We are in the remarkable position of knowing the One to whom Sirach was pointing, and indeed, we may know Him personally.  Wisdom, the Word from God’s own mouth, has dwelt among us, and has bound Himself eternally to humankind by His Incarnation. 

The colorful and dramatic language used for Wisdom in Sirach’s book may well remind us of the deep-hearted phrases that we use for Jesus in our worship, for example, in The Akathist to the Sweetest Lord Jesus:

Jesus, Treasure unfailing,
Jesus, Wealth inexpendable,
Jesus, Food most substantial,
Jesus, Drink inexhaustible…
Jesus, Son of God, have mercy on me….
Jesus, sweet-scented Flower, make me fragrant,
Jesus, longed for Warmth, warm me…
Jesus, Pearl of geat price, enrich me,
Jesus, Sun of Righteousness, shine on me,
Jesus, holy Light, make me radiant.

Even with this lovely passage that reminds us of our exuberance in praising Jesus, Sirach is not finished extolling Wisdom, nor does the author cease issuing Wisdom’s invitation to us.  We will hear about the meaning of true wisdom throughout the book; but especially when we come to the final chapter, chapter fifty-one, we will listen to the author tell us about his own experience with her. Chapter twenty-four was a description of Wisdom in her own words, and at the end interpreted by Sirach as intending to put forward the Torah—but we know that the Torah pointed to Jesus.  The second half of chapter 51, after giving praise and thanks to God (verses 1-12), goes on to commend to the reader what Sirach himself discovered about Wisdom throughout his life (51:13-30). As we hear this ancient author, we can see how Jesus vividly adopted and adapted Sirach’s words:

While I was still young, before I went on my travels, I sought Wisdom openly in my prayer. Before the temple I asked for her, and I will search for her to the last.  From blossom to ripening grape my heart delighted in her; my foot entered upon the straight path; from my youth I followed her steps.  I inclined my ear a little and received her, and I found for myself much instruction.  I made progress therein; to him who gives wisdom I will give glory.  For I resolved to live according to wisdom, and I was zealous for the good; and I shall never be put to shame.  My soul grappled with wisdom, and in my conduct I was strict; I spread out my hands to the heavens, and lamented my ignorance of her.  I directed my soul to her, and through purification I found her. I gained understanding with her from the first, therefore I will not be forsaken. My heart was stirred to seek her, therefore I have gained a good possession. The Lord gave me a tongue as my reward, and I will praise Him with it.

Draw near to me, you who are untaught, and lodge in my school.  Why do you say you are lacking in these things, and why are your souls very thirsty?  I opened my mouth and said, Get these things for yourselves without money.  Put your neck under her yoke, and let your souls receive instruction; she is near to you that you might find her. See with your eyes that I have labored little and found myself much rest. Partake of instruction with a great amount of silver, and gain much gold with it.  May your soul be gladdened by His mercy and may you not be put to shame when you praise Him. (51:13-29)

Here, as with the “Come to me” invitation, we are reminded of the great benefits and comfort that come from seeking wisdom.  In Matthew 11:28-30, Jesus begins his invitation with an echo of Sirach 24, but then continues by echoing Sirach 51 regarding his yoke, his easy burden, learning of Him, and finding rest: “Come unto me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.  For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”  Indeed, Jesus’ invitation in Matthew 11 is preceded by a curious reference that He makes to Wisdom and “her children,” in which he seems to contrast those who are criticizing Him with those who will turn to Him, and learn about the great mysteries of God—that is, Wisdom’s true children (Matt 11:19b).

Sirach, then, was a book beloved enough by Jesus to quote it in several places, and to apply it to Himself.  Without saying explicitly “I am that Wisdom of whom Sirach spoke,” He implies His link with her when He puts her words on His lips.  We should therefore listen carefully to witnesses such as that of Sirach when he speaks about his experience in gaining wisdom.  He explains that he sought her even as a young boy, and that even a little listening gave him great instruction—we are reminded of Jesus who tells His followers that even a single grain of faith can move mountains! Sirach goes on to speak, paradoxically, of the necessity to “wrestle” with Wisdom, even though she freely offers herself.  This tension between mystery and revelation is seen also in Jesus’ words when he speaks of those things hidden from the so-called “wise” but revealed to humble “babes” (Matt 11:25).  Sirach both wrestles (“my soul grappled with wisdom”) and cries out to heaven for help—and receives it!  Because his heart was “stirred” to seek wisdom, and because of his supplications, he is both given a modicum of wisdom (that presumably will grow), and also a “tongue” with which he can praise God, and witness to others of the availability of wisdom.

Finally, there is a kind of tension between God’s gifts, given free of charge, and the costliness of them.  We hear both that wisdom is to be got “without money” (51:25), and that we are to partake of instruction with “ a great amount of silver” and so “gain much gold with it.” The words of the prophet Isaiah are true: “Come, all you who are thirsty, come to the waters; and you who have no money, come, buy and eat! Come, buy wine and milk” (Isaiah 55:1).  Sirach knows this and thus says, gain these things “without money.”  The words about free offering are echoed by Jesus and by the promise in the book of Revelation: “Freely you have received; freely give” (Mat 10:8); “The Spirit and the bride say, ‘Come!’ And let the one who hears say, ‘Come!’ Let the one who is thirsty come; and let the one who wishes take the free gift of the water of life” (Rev 22:17). 

And yet, there is a kind of “buying,” or a “cost” to this food and water that is more satisfying than earthly gold and silver.  One wrestles with the passions, puts to death the flesh, and gives everything –not just possessions and money—to the One who has given us everything.  The “cost” is to live no longer for ourselves, but for Him—and to receive the unexpected blessing of eternal and abundant life. Earlier in the book of Sirach, the teacher has instructed his readers: “Do not set your heart on your possessions and do not say, ‘I am independent.’ Do not follow yourself and your strength so as to walk in the desires of your heart” (5:1-2). In the context of the Old Testament teaching, this may sound simply like a call to sane humility.  But in the context of the new covenant, where we see how Jesus gave up everything for love and life, we understand so much better. There is a self-sacrifice that ends in incomparable riches, and Jesus has shown the way. And so, with even keener sight than Sirach, who walked by faith, we can say, “May your soul be gladdened by His mercy and may you not be put to shame when you praise Him.”  Wisdom, personified in our Lord Jesus, shows us the way.

Published by edithmhumphrey

I am an Orthodox Christian, professor emerita of Scripture, wife, mother of 3, and grandmother of 25. Though officially retired, I continue to write and lecture on subjects such as C. S. Lewis, theological anthropology, and children's literature. (I have written two novels for young people!) Angus, my cavapoo, keeps me entertained.

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