1 Kings 3:4-15
Lauren J. McFeaters
October 29, 2023
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There is a quote often attributed to the Talmud, that’s a loose translation of Micah 6:8, and it reads:
Do not be daunted by the enormity of the world’s grief. Do justly, now. Love mercy, now. Walk humbly, now. You are not obligated to complete the work, but neither are you free to abandon it.
While we reel from the massacres in Lewiston, Maine; remain horrified by the slaughter in Gaza and the unknown whereabouts of hostages, the catastrophic eruption of war; as we stagger at the ongoing devastation in Ukraine; and are undone by the unending hate of Black and brown citizens, Asian Americans, and LGBTQ+ folx, it’s hard not to find ourselves lying in a heap of hopelessness.[i]
Do not be daunted by the enormity of the world’s grief. Do justly, now. Love mercy, now. Walk humbly, now. You are not obligated to complete the work, but neither are you free to abandon it.
This is where Solomon meets us. Daunted by his grief, his youth, his crushing responsibilities, he’s completely overwhelmed by his inexperience; totally engulfed by his inadequacy to rule a kingdom, with all of its complications, its battles, its difficulties.
Feeling his own inability in the face of such responsibility, he does what he knows how to do – he prays and God answers – “What can I give you Solomon? Ask.”
I have to imagine, that when a son is raised by a Psalmist, the son’s prayers are going to be set to song. Can you hear the song in Solomon’s prayer:
O Lord my God, I am only a little child;
I don’t know how to go out or come in.
I need your generous love,
so please, please, please, give me a wise and listening heart,
so I can lead your people with discernment and care.
A wise and listening heart.
Not glory, not money, not long-life, not triumph in battle. Just wisdom and understanding. A prayer for wisdom and understanding. Beautiful.
But here’s the thing about praying for wisdom. When we pray. “God, grant me wisdom,” there’s no abracadabra, no hocus-pocus, and we are mysteriously gifted with wisdom. We are, instead, gifted, by God, with endless experiences that will teach us to be wise. Solomon would need to learn the experiences of wisdom, over and over again. And so do we.
Praying for wisdom, praying, “Lord, help me to be wise in life and faith and family,” doesn’t mean a sudden change in our personality, and lighten bolts of insight is dramatically bestowed. No. God answers our prayers with countless opportunities to dig deep, and make mistakes, and learn the ropes of wisdom – over and over and over again.
When I came home, after my first semester of college, my father took me aside and said he had something important to tell me. “Laurie,” he said (he always called me Laurie), “Laurie, I want you to remember, that your grandparents have more wisdom in tip of their little finger, than we will ever have.”
“What? What’d you mean?” And he repeated: “I want you to remember, that your grandparents have more wisdom, in tip of their little finger, than we will ever have.”
He said, “not one of your grandparents, or any family before them, ever had the chance to attend college – it was beyond their wildest dreams. Their education came from what work they could find – when they could find it. And because of that, they have more wisdom, than you and I will ever have – in the tip of their little finger.”
“Do you understand that coming home from college is nothing to boast about, when you remember, it is because of them, that you’re able to reach for the stars.”
I was silent. Here I was, having triumphantly returned to Pittsburgh after my first semester at my dream school in Boston. And with a lot of kindness, and not, in any way, trying to shame me, my dad looked at me and smiled: “It is because of them, that you’re able to reach for the stars.”
And I started to cry. And he started to cry. And I understood his message. And it was powerful. I looked at my grandparents in a whole new light. I looked at my dad in a whole new light. I understood myself, and what I had been handed, with a deep appreciation. My lessons in wisdom, had begun.
As we enter these weeks with a focus on prayer in the Hebrew scriptures, there are so many reminders of what we’ve been handed; that God comes to us in our prayers. We come from generations of church folk who sing to us their prayers and teach us the words of faith; who through hard won life experience, have more wisdom in the tip of their little finger – and choose to pass it on.
Reinhold Niebuhr gave us this prayer:
God, give us in wisdom, grace to accept with serenity,
the things that cannot be changed,
courage to change the things which should be changed,
and the wisdom to distinguish the one from the other.
Soren Kierkegaard gave us this:
The wise function of prayer, is not to influence God,
but rather to change the nature of the one who prays.
But maybe it’s Ann Weems, our Presbyterian poet laureate, who takes our hand today as we pray for wisdom. Within the enormity of the world’s grief and violence, Ann Weems wrote this prayer-poem for Ash Wednesday in 2003, right as US forces were preparing to invade Iraq. She titled it I No Longer Pray for Peace. She writes:
On the edge of war, one foot already in,
I no longer pray for peace: I pray for miracles.
I pray that stone hearts will turn
to tenderheartedness,
and evil intentions will turn to mercifulness …
and the whole world will be
astounded onto its knees.
I pray that all the “God talk” will take bones,
and stand up and shed its cloak of faithlessness,
and walk again in its powerful truth.
I pray that the whole world might
sit down together and share its bread and its wine.
Some say there is no hope,
but then I’ve always applauded the holy fools
who never seem to give up on
the scandalousness of our faith:
that we are loved by God ……
that we can truly love one another.
I no longer pray for peace: I pray for miracles.[ii]
Today, as we gather and once again take in a world bent on destroying itself, let us lean into the scandal of our faith. That in the midst of our lives, Angela and Christopher come forward, and we dare to baptize and make promises for the future with Lucy.
That new members dare to join us with the words: Jesus Christ is my Lord and Savior. And we in turn make promises to care for them, even as we walk together into the unknown.
And that like Solomon, in the face of what daunts and terrifies us, we boldly pray for wisdom and understanding and to discern between good and evil.
[i] Inspired by Anne Russ’s “Full Disclosure: I am daunted.” October 26, 2023, doubtingbeliever.com.
[ii] Anne Weems. “I No Longer Pray for Peace.” From Advent’s Alleluia to Easter’s Morning Light: Poetry for Worship, Study and Devotion. Louisville: Westminster John Knox, 2010, 72.