GroshLink

Last week our grad and faculty study of the book of Proverbs led us to a consideration of the path of wisdom. While I ran to stuff the meter, I kicked off the conversation by asking the participants to consider whether they were moving in the direction maturity, mired in foolishness, or meandering back and forth. By in large the response was that we find ourselves on a meandering journey of wisdom in which we value and desire to have wisdom which gives us not only insight for our own lives, but also for others to consider. Briefly we discussed why we must be wary of the pride associated with this pursuit (and how we must articulate what we have come to understand with humility), particularly considering the context of higher education.

After opening with this question, I returned to a handout from N.T. Wright's The New Testament and the People of God which discussed a modified version of critical-realist epistemology to use as a relational lens for our consideration of Scripture. Here's a quote (pp.45-6), The stories through which it arrives at its (potentially) true account of reality are, irreducibly, stories about the interrelation of humans and the rest of reality (including, of course, other humans). Furthermore, the crucial stories themselves are, of course, a vital element in the relationship both between those who share a worldview (who tell one another stories to confirm and fine-tune the worldview) and between holders of different worldviews (who tell one another stories designed to subvert one another's positions). This model allows fully for the actuality of knowledge beyond that of one's own sense-data (that which the objectivist desires to safeguard), while fully allowing for the involvement of the knower in the act of knowing (that upon which the subjectivist will rightly insist) . . ..

This critical-realist theory of knowledge and verification, then acknowledges the essentially storied nature of human knowing, thinking and living, within the larger model of worldviews and their component parts. It acknowledges that all knowledge of realities external to oneself takes place within the framework of a worldview, of which stories form an essential part. And it sets up as hypotheses various stories about the world in general or bits of it in particular and tests them by seeing the sort of fit they have with the stories already in place. If someone asks what knock-down arguments I can produce for showing that this theory about how humans know things is in fact true, it would obviously be self-contradictory to reply in essentially empiricist terms. The only appropriate argument is the regular one about puddings and eating. Proposing a new epistemology is, in fact, intrinsically difficult, precisely because of the difficulty with empiricism itself. It is impossible to find solid (objective) ground to stand on: such a thing does not exist. All epistemologies have to be themselves, argued as hypotheses: they are tested not by their coherence with a fixed point agreed in advance, but (like other hypotheses, in fact) by their simplicity and their ability to make sense of a wide scope of experiences and events. I have told a story about how humans know things. We must now exemplify and, I hope, appropriately verify this story, by seeing ways in which it can make sense of how humans know certain particular sorts of things, namely literature, history and theology

Keeping the big picture in mind we discussed the varied structure of Proverbs and how some divide the book in 2 parts (1-9, 10-31) whereas others in 3 (1-9. 10-22:16, 22:17-31:31) [note: I favor the 2 divisions which contrast father-son admonitions/discourses with individual self-help proverbs, but see why 3 divisions also seems reasonable]. Narrowing our focus further we discussed the father-son relationship in 1:8, 10, 15. Of particular interest was the familial setting of Proverbs 1:8, Listen my child, when your father corrects you, don't neglect your mother's instruction. We reflected on the role of a young male receiving instruction on/in the family, the court, and elsewhere. We explored how in some way this seems analogous to the present day passing on of identity, knowledge (i.e., don't be naive), and responsibility in the transition from the home to college. Something which I've written about elsewhere with a focus on the role of youth ministry.

Honestly, I found it a little difficult to return to the conversation of the path (or similar ones such as the journey) as a metaphor for one's actions in life. I have steered away from such language, being uncomfortable with its relationship to current trends of spirituality. Yet the metaphor does have a richness to it, when coupled with an exploration of one's origin/background, where one currently finds oneself, a proper understanding of our destination in relationship to key transitional moments which speak to when faced with a fork in the road whether we choose that which is Life in Father (through Christ by the power of the Holy Spirit) or that which is wrong and leads to death. When considering the son's decision as to whether to follow/walk the path of life, the father and Wisdom warn him of the dangers he will encounter and the encouragement he will find. By contrast, there is the dark figure of Woman Folly.

May we as members of the Body of Christ receive the path of wisdom from the Father, enfleshed in the Son of God, and which continues to be worked out in the people of God by the infilling the of the Holy Spirit.

Note: I've come to find Tremper Longman III's How to Read Proverbs a helpful guide for this study and these thoughts rely heavily on his work. I would commend this piece to you.