O Sapientia - Wisdom of God
Written by Lauren Craig
“I cannot think unless I have been thought / Nor can I speak unless I have been spoken.” - Malcolm Guite, O Sapientia
It’s sheer grace that Advent comes to us every year, whether we are ready for it or not. There are seasons when rejoicing comes as naturally as breathing. We arrive on the doorstep of Advent brimful with eagerness, ready to dive headfirst and swim in this season of hope and anticipation, letting the traditions and rhythms of grace carry us toward Christmas until our hearts are full enough to burst with the joy of it all. We stand in awe of our O Sapientia, as we trace the golden thread of the redemption story He’s been weaving since before time began, and we marvel as we see our own lives woven into that story. We know the Light has come because we are living in it. All His ways are our delight, and we proclaim with Paul, “Oh the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! (Rom. 11:33).” This is good. It is well that we should rejoice in knowing Him who came to set us free and free us to Himself. If this is you today, Friend, then sing! Joy to the World, for your Lord has come!
But, grace upon grace, Advent also comes for us every year, whether we are ready or not. And perhaps some of us find ourselves on the doorstep of a season we are too weary to embrace. The mere effort of lifting our thoughts to hope, to Him who thought us into being, much less to the joyful expectations that come with the season, feels heavy enough to finally crush the “bruised reed” of our faith. How are we to sing Joy to the World, when it is life in this broken world that has broken us and left us too wounded to remember our song? But here, too, O Sapientia comes for us. Thomas Clarkson, an 18th century abolitionist in England, once wrote a letter to his friend, the poet Samuel Coleridge. Battling depression and being deeply discouraged from years of fighting against slavery, Clarkson wrote that he was too weary to even think of God, that he “had no idea of the Divine.” Coleridge lovingly encouraged his friend, “Let me remind you that you, yourself, are a Divine idea.” So, Friend, if you find yourself this Advent too weary and broken to even think of Him, take heart in knowing that He first thought of you and continues to think of you in love, as a Father thinks of His child.
Whether you have arrived at this season rejoicing or bone-weary, O Sapientia comes for you. Jesus, the Wisdom and Word of God made flesh, the One Who thought of galaxies and butterflies, oceans and atoms, thought each one of us into being and continues to think of us in love. Lift your eyes to Him, child of God. Be encouraged and rejoice with the psalmist, “How precious to me are Your thoughts, O God! How vast is the sum of them! (Ps. 139:17).”
Prayer: O Sapientia, we can only know You because You have first known us. The Wisdom that spoke Light into darkness at creation has called us out of darkness into Your marvelous Light. Thank you for thinking of us, for loving us so well through the gift of Your Son. Would you fill these minds You have created with a deeper understanding of Your love, and then open our mouths to sing of Your grace.