Sunday Faith Reflection
Give your servant, therefore, an understanding heart.
Christendom Reborn is three months old today! It’s been a delightful journey, and I’m very grateful to everyone who’s joined me. I happened to notice the date yesterday, and woke up this morning, appropriately, to a notice that Christendom Reborn is currently ranked #44 on Substack’s “rising” list for philosophy-themed Substacks. Huzzah!
In particular, much gratitude to my paid subscribers. Your support is deeply appreciated. It’s quite humbling, truly, when someone voluntarily supports my Substack with their own hard-earned money. I will try to justify the confidence!
Today’s readings are extremely appropriate for Christendom Reborn’s 3-month anniversary, and also for my presently-running topic. We get to think about King Solomon, and his yearning for wisdom.
God appears to Solomon in the night and offers him a wish. A House of David privilege, I suppose. He says:
O LORD, my God, you have made me, your servant, king
to succeed my father David;
but I am a mere youth, not knowing at all how to act.
I serve you in the midst of the people whom you have chosen,
a people so vast that it cannot be numbered or counted.
Give your servant, therefore, an understanding heart
to judge your people and to distinguish right from wrong.
For who is able to govern this vast people of yours?1 Kings 3:7-9
God is pleased, and grants him a double share of wisdom.
I give you a heart so wise and understanding
that there has never been anyone like you up to now,
and after you there will come no one to equal you.
It’s a beautiful passage for a philosopher, and it even connects to the political themes of this Substack. Solomon wants wisdom, not primarily to contemplate the Forms, but so he can govern Israel rightly. Clearly God approves, which should give us confidence that the quest for wisdom is indeed good and righteous, or at least potentially so.
How should we think about the legacy of Solomon, though? In some ways his reign really is the high point of the entire story of Israel. The narrative of the Old Testament, to be frank, is rather bleak in many ways, just one scrape after another. The people are constantly “becoming stiffnecked” and falling into sin; the worship of idols threatens at every turn; each incredible redemption story is rapidly followed by another period of decline. Solomon’s glorious reign is almost the only extended period of peace and prosperity in the Bible. And it does sound quite magnificent! The descriptions of Solomon’s temple and courts are almost reminiscent of the Arabian Nights, a fairy tale of opulence. Hooray for wisdom?
But even Solomon’s shining moment is marred in various ways. Solomon married pagan women. He too was tempted by idol worship. The book of Ecclesiastes is widely read as Solomon’s lament for the burdens of a fallen world. And, after his reign is over, Israel quickly fragments, with even the suggestion that the people of Israel may not have entirely appreciated the heavy tax burden that Solomon placed on them. (Given my classical liberal sympathies, I appreciate that tidbit.)
What’s the upshot here? What does it mean to be wise, and did Solomon prove that wisdom wins, or only that “all is vanity”? The Gospel reading supplies some help here, reminding us that the kingdom of heaven is the only true fulfillment; we should be happy to trade all other treasures for that. But why didn’t Solomon realize that, with all his wisdom? Philosophy has its limits.
Oh look! Christendom Reborn is trending.
There is nothing new under the sun.