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“May the words of my mouth and the meditations of ours hearts be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, our strength and our redeemer. Amen.”

A wise woman who was traveling in the mountains found a precious stone in a stream. The next day she met another traveler who was hungry, and the wise woman opened her bag to share her food. The hungry traveler saw the precious stone and asked the woman if she would give it to him. She did so without hesitation. The traveler left, rejoicing in his good fortune. He knew the stone was worth enough to give him security for a lifetime. But a few days later he came back to return the stone to the wise woman.

“I’ve been thinking,” he said, “I know how valuable the stone is, but I give it back in the hope that you can give me something even more precious. Give me what you have within you that enabled you to give me something more precious. Give me what you have within you that enabled you to give me the stone.”

I like this little fable. It’s short and it’s to the point. But I have to admit, it leaves me a bit perplexed. It’s as if there is a paragraph missing. I get that the traveller recognized a great material deal when he saw it. I get that in no time at all, the man recognized that there was somethng much greater to be had. What I would like to have heard was what happened inbetween; what was the unique series of thoughts and reflections that moved him from point A to point B. It’s simply left to our imagination. Then again, doesn’t that so aptly depict the arc of our experience with wisdom. Often we begin by employing our intellect to measure the value of a thing. We see that precious stone, that windfall, as a means of satisfying our immediate and perhaps long term needs.

But generally, if wisdom is to be obtained, we find ourselves progressing down our own unique path of experience, reflection and discernment before we somehow reach that “ah-ha” moment, that moment of clarity in which we are afforded a glimpse of true worth; we are shown the real value of what it is we should be asking for.

That’s what makes what happened to Solomon so remarkable. His wisdom journey begins where most journeys conclude; it is born in the shining moment of devotion that we just heard; a strikingly beautiful picture of an encounter between God and a child of God.

I love that God comes to Solomon in a dream. I wonder if something about that dreamlike state may have given Solomon the freedom to relate to God by eliminating the competing desires and the ambitions that may have tempted him in his waking hours. It seems that in that dream encounter his soul was fully available to God; his vision was unclouded. Perhaps too, God came to him in his sleep because he simply didn’t want Solomon to be able to take a whole lot of credit for his excellent choice. It was God’s work, God’s gift. God spoke to him in a dream.

And God makes this odd invitation, in the form of a command: "Ask what I should give you." If it were in question form, it would be a servant’s question. We can picture an attendant to royalty asking, "What shall I bring you, sir?" So it’s a somewhat startling line, coming from the ruler of all. Evidently God has power to spare, so God doesn’t need to micromanage this exchange and tell Solomon what he needs and should ask for. Rather, God can afford to be gracious and generous and let the encounter stretch out a bit."Ask what I should give you" is an invitation into a wide realm of freedom and open possibilities, and at the same time, a clarifying window into Solomon’s soul. If you’ve ever come to that moment where someone asks you, "What do you really want?" you know that it can be an exciting and a frightening question.

In the Harry Potter books there is a Mirror called the Mirror of Erised, Erised being an anagram of the word desire. When one looks in the mirror one sees that for which one’s soul most deeply longs. The orphaned Harry looks in the mirror and sees his parents, James and Lily, waving lovingly at him. The mirror reveals so much that it can be embarrassing to look at with others present. God’s request here seems not intending to embarrass, but it is designed to reveal. It is an invitation into intimate relationship. God says, "Let me know what is deepest within you, and you will come to know me as the one who can satisfy your deepest longings.” In Solomon’s case, there came an answer that would deeply please the heart of God. In baseball jargon, he hits it out of the park.

Solomon reflects thoughtfully on the past, names God’s faithfulness to his father David, and expresses gratitude for it. He displays humility; he knows he has a huge task ahead, and he knows he needs God’s help. He acknowledges his youth and his lack of maturity. "I barely know how to open a door and walk through it." And he seems in this moment to be genuinely eager to lead God’s people well. But there are so many of them! It is a daunting task, and he is rightly daunted by it. And out of that awareness comes this cry: Give your servant wisdom! The phrase can be translated, "Give me a heart with skill to listen." Give me a heart with the capacity to hear; make me responsive to your voice as I lead. Give me also discernment; help me to rightly perceive reality so that I can make sound choices on behalf of the people.

And, lo and behold, God generously gives, far beyond what Solomon asked for. With our God we do not have a genie that says, “Rub my lamp all you want, but you still only get three wishes, and then you’re done.” In contrast, here we see God gladly giving Solomon what he asks for, and pouring out abundant blessings as well; equipping him with all he will need to lead his people well, and gracing him with a rich, full life as he does so.

We are well into the church year, andmany opportunities to serve continue to present themselves here at St. Lawrence. You may have noticed that within the context of the Prayers of the People over the past nine weeks, we have prayed for particular ministries and for those who serve such as; our Christian educators, our Lay Eucharistic Visitors, our Altar Guild, and today, (spoiler alert), our Bread Bakers. Going forward, we will continue to pray for other groups and for the servants whose contributions make them effective; “servants” being the operative word since none of our ministries can happen without the efforts of those who have discerned a call to serve and all groups are eager to welcome new recruits. Should you like additional information, a brief description of each team is found on the St. Lawrence website as well as that of the team of the week featured in the bulletin.

For those called to sign on to something new, to take the plunge, we find ourselves identifying with Solomon’s cry for help. In relation to the task ahead, it can feel like we barely know how to open or close a door. Like Solomon we seek discernment, that ability to tell right from wrong, central from distracting. But more fundamentally, regardless of our chosen ministry, we seek a heart that hears, that lives in dynamic and intimate relationship with the God who speaks, placing our trust in God’s wisdom and not our own as we seek to live out our calling.

Now upon hearing the word wisdom, there may be a tendency to jump to an upcoming decision in which we feel uncertain. We know how important it is to choose well, to choose wisely. But our quest for clarity and certainty may actually be a distraction from the heart of the matter.

The ethicist John Kavanaugh was at a point of seeking direction for his life, and at that crossroads time he traveled to Calcutta and spent a season working with Mother Teresa among the desperately poor there. On the first morning there, he met her and she offered to pray for him. "What do you want me to pray for?" she asked. Kavanaugh asked for what he had been asking for months: "Pray that I might have clarity." She said firmly, "No, I will not do that." When he asked her why, she said, "Clarity is the last thing you are clinging to and must let go of." When Kavanaugh commented that she always seemed to have the clarity he longed for, she laughed and said, "I have never had clarity; what I have always had is trust. So I pray that you trust God.”

Solomon was indeed wise, through God’s generous gift. Still, we might be tempted to view his story as a rare, one-off event, what with the dream and all. The good news is that even in our time, God is exceedingly good at pouring out gifts. If it were not so then what would be the point of Paul’s admonition to the Ephesians and to us to live wisely, making the most of our time, and being filled with the Spirit. God longs to give us wisdom, a message throughout the New Testament deeply rooted in our pursuit of relationship with Christ, in whom are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge.

Jesus in the gospels made the startling announcement that with his entrance onto the scene something greater than Solomon was here, in his ministry and very presence in our midst.

I like to think that as we age, we’reall growing a bit wiser. But I wonder if rather than seeking to become wise people, which perhaps puts the focus a little too much on us, it might be better simply to seek Christ, living in radical dependence on him, and then for us to ask for what we need at every step of the way. And so, like Mother Teresa, I pray that we would trust God. As we lead, as we love and serve, may we live close to wisdom’s source. May we sit at Christ’s feet, with hearts that can hear.

Amen.