CHRIST AND THE PROBLEM OF WISDOM IN THE PRESENT DAY WORLD

[Lloyd Cline Sears served as the first academic dean and a professor of English for Harding College from 1934-1960. He is the author of The Eyes of Jehovah: Biography of James Alexander Harding. (1970). The following was the lead lecture from the 1951 Harding College Lectures.]

“But we preach Christ crucified, unto Jews a stumbling block, and unto the Gentiles foolishness; but unto them that are called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God.” (1 Corinthians 1:23-24)

   It is appropriate that a series of lectures on the application of Christianity to questions of our time should open with the problem of wisdom. If we are to answer the questions which the world now faces, we shall need wisdom of a higher order than the world has ever used, but a wisdom which is definitely available if we will use it.

   By wisdom I do not mean mere information, facts, or data. These we have in abundance. But wisdom is more than knowledge. It is insight into the nature of things, the ability to weigh facts and arrive at a right sense of values. It is the capacity to apply knowledge to problems in harmony with principles of truth and right, and to adopt courses of conduct which contribute to the highest good, both of ourselves and of others. This is the nature of wisdom. But from what source are we to find it?

   In the first chapter of First Corinthians the Apostle Paul distinguishes between two kinds of wisdom: the wisdom of the world, and the wisdom which is from God. Both are concerned with teaching men how to live. But they are often in conflict with each other, sometimes so radically that what the world considers wise, good, or strong, God may consider foolish, base, and contemptible. And what the world considers foolish may be the very wisdom of God.

   This conflict, even in Paul’s time, was nothing new. Centuries before God had said through Isaiah that “my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways . . . For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts.” This difference in point of view often made it necessary, as Isaiah further says, for God to destroy the wisdom of the wise and bring to nought the discernment of the discerning. This does not refer merely to those who think they are wise. But it means those who are genuinely wise and discerning according to the standards of the world, but whose judgment finds itself in conflict with eternal wisdom.

   Even with his knowledge of Isaiah, Paul’s experience at Athens seems to have been a shock. It undoubtedly accounts for his emphasis upon wisdom in writing to the Greeks at Corinth.

   When he came to Athens Paul found an intellectual ferment unknown anywhere else in the world. It was the great university center. From Athens had already gone out systems of philosophy which are still influencing the thinking of men. As Luke explains, “All the Athenians and the strangers sojourning there spent their time in nothing else, but either to tell or to hear some new thing.” Epicureans, Stoics, Platonists, skeptics, were ready to hear and to discuss any new idea. Surely in such an environment men would be eager to learn about Jesus and his teaching. True to form, therefore, when they heard Paul talking, the philosophers called a great mass meeting, including the city council, to hear all he might have to say. Apparently they listened with interest as he complimented their zeal in religion, and even as he emphasized the supreme greatness of God. But when he told of the death and resurrection of Christ, some arose mocking and broke up the meeting. Others, more polite, said, “We’ll hear thee concerning this yet again” a courteous way of dismissing the subject. Only a few remained to learn more. And Paul left Athens because there was little chance of doing further good.

   What was wrong? These were the world’s greatest philosophers. They were seeking for wisdom. They wanted to understand the nature of the gods. But when Paul introduced to them “the God who made the worlds,” as he revealed himself in Jesus Christ, blinded by their own wisdom, they counted his message foolishness.

   That was Athens two thousand years ago. It is still so in the world today, and will be to the end of time. As Christians we must recognize this fact and not be unduly impressed or swayed by the thinking of men. Today we have colleges and universities which would put Athens to shame. We have libraries and museums housing the knowledge, inventions, and achievements of man such as Athens never dreamed of. If you could read fifty pages an hour and never stopped to eat or to sleep, to read the collections in even one of our great libraries would take two thousand years, or more. In addition to these, however, are the countless thousands of books and pamphlets which pour from the presses of the world each year. Journals and newspapers, radio commentators and lecturers offer counsel and advice. There is no lack of the wisdom of the world.

   But the strange thing is that with all this accumulation of wisdom the world is more confused today than ever before. On economic security many boast that we are all right. Our country leads the world in production and wealth. But others point out that underneath this apparent wealth we have the greatest debt any nation ever carried and lived. Is this prosperity a mirage which may easily fade? A bubble which may break in a moment? Under Solomon Israel achieved a prosperity such as few nations have ever known. From Sheba, Ophir, and all the countries around the wealth of the world’s trade flowed into Jerusalem, until gold became common, and silver, like the stones of the street, was accounted as nothing. Yet in a single generation the kingdom was divided by the weight of its taxes, and its glory was a thing of the past.

   On national security many point out that through the atomic bomb America has attained a strength no nation has ever achieved. Yet no one knows just when or how far to use this power, or to what ends it may lead; and the whole world is afraid.

   Of human welfare many point out with pride that our country has attained materially the highest standard of living any nation has ever known. But this is undermined by a shocking spiritual decay, with greed, crime, and corruption leading even into high and responsible places. In spite of all we have, there is increasing unhappiness, discontent, and selfishness, erupting into crime, class struggles, and even conflicts between nations.

   From all these and many other problems which you can name, what wisdom can deliver us? It cannot be the wisdom of the world. It is this wisdom which has created the problems.

   I would not be misunderstood. I have no quarrel with the wisdom of the world if we recognize its place and its limitations. Jesus once said, “The children of darkness are wiser in their generation than the children of light.” There is much we can learn from it. Certainly the Christian should be informed in all the realms of human thought—business, economics, science, government, history, the humanities, and the summation of them all in the various systems of philosophy. From the wealth of human wisdom the Christian can glean the things of genuine worth. As the Apostle Paul says, being spiritual, he “judgeth all things,” understands their true worth, and is not blinded by false claims.

For the wisdom of the world is limited. It is based on human experience. If a thing seems to work well in relations over a period of years or of centuries it is considered right and good. If it seems to fail, it is bad. The standard of right and wrong is therefore largely one of expediency, what seems to succeed or fail. But the measure of success or failure is based largely on material outcomes. Hence the wisdom of the world is earthy, materialistic, confined to the things we learn through the senses, and skeptical of anything that lies beyond. This has been true of the thinking of men from the skeptics of ancient Greece through Straus in religion, Karl Marx in economics to Thorndike, Dewey, and others in modern education.

   But such wisdom ignores the realm of the spiritual. It leaves out God. It recognizes no principles of right and justice, mercy or truth as derived from him, and therefore eternal. When it treats the problems of the world, it too often looks only at the surface, as a man with smallpox might put salve on his sores and never recognize the disease beneath.

   For example, a poll was recently taken in one of our states asking the people what they considered the two most serious problems the nation faces, and the two most serious each faced individually. A few answered that the most serious problem nationally was our departure from God and how to get back to him. But the great mass of people replied that the two most serious problems, both nationally and individually, were (1) the danger of inflation, or economic insecurity, and (2) the danger of war, or national insecurity. This is a vivid illustration of the superficial thinking of the world.

  Certainly economic insecurity is a danger. As long as we are in the world we must have food, clothing, and shelter, and we shrink from hunger and pain. Whatever human wisdom can devise to provide security, if right within itself, is good. Laws, regulations, insurance—we try them all. But all these are external. The real source of security lies within the hearts and consciences of men, in convictions which come from God. A banker was showing a friend through his new bank. With great pride he pointed out the vault and the safe, with its impregnable steel walls, encased in solid concrete, its massive steel doors, burglar-proof, and boasted that its strength gave absolute security to his customers. The friend noticed an old man sitting near the door, and asked, “Who is this man?”

   “Oh, he’s the custodian of the vault,” the banker replied.
   “Does he have a key to it?” the friend asked. “Certainly,” said the banker.
   “Then,” said the friend, “your vault is no stronger than the honesty of this man.

  How often in the past few months has that statement proved true. Fifteen bankers in Pennsylvania—four of them in one town—recently embezzled over $3,000,000 people had entrusted to them. The same thing is happening in nearly all other states. These banks were strong, their safes impregnable, but the bankers themselves lacked character and conscience. Where do these come from? Not from the wisdom of the world. A prominent textbook in economics, I have been told, starts out with the statement that to be successful in business a man must divorce ethics and religion from his business practice. Whether this is actually the instruction in college classrooms, it is the impression many young people get. But when we divorce religious conviction, the principles of honesty, integrity, and truth, from practical affairs, what hope do we have of security? Laws and penalties may be used, but crime buys out the law. The only hope of economic security lies, not in things, but in the integrity of people, and this rests on a faith in God and his righteousness.

   Inflation can be a national and a personal tragedy. When Brother Lowell Davis was in Canton, inflation in China became so extreme that it finally took 125,000 Cantonese dollars to mail a letter to this country. Other countries like Hungary and Germany, have gone through the same experience. If inflation gets out of control here your steaks could well jump from $1 to $100,000 a pound, and who among us could buy even the tenth part of a smell? So people may well be uneasy.

   But what is the cause of inflation? Oh, there are many causes, of course, if you look at the externals. There are many remedies also which can be externally applied—price ceilings, taxes, restrictions on credit. These help within limits. But when the pressure beneath rises, lids blow off the ceilings. The basic cause of inflation is the greed of every man to get his share, no matter what the cost to others. And greed is a quality of the spirit. It must be spiritually controlled. But how often has the wisdom of the world encouraged it! How often has it placed the emphasis on getting, having, keeping, the position at the top of the ladder, the chief seats at the feasts, to be called rabbi, doctor, master. In sports and competitions it is the winner who is crowned and flattered and toasted. No one regards the loser. In politics it is the victor who takes the spoils. Certainly we want to encourage each one to achieve the best that is within him. But with such constant emphasis from birth to death upon winning, usually at the expense of others, is it any wonder that men feel the prize is all-important? Win fairly if we can, but, right or wrong, win we must, whatever the cost to others. Arthur Clough expressed it long ago:

Each for himself is still the rule;
We learn it when we go to school—
The devil take the hindmost!
And when the schoolboys grow to men
In life they learn it o’er again—
The devil take the hindmost!
For in the church, and at the bar,
On ‘change, at court, where’er you are
The devil takes the hindmost.
Husband for husband, wife for wife,
Are careful that in married life
The devil takes the hindmost.
From youth to age, whate’er the game,
The unvarying practice is still the same;
The devil takes the hindmost.
And after death, we do not know,
But scarce can doubt where’er we go
The devil takes the hindmost.

   So each one seeks his own, as Browning puts it, “at the whole world’s cost.” Husbands are selfish with wives; business cuts the throat of its competitor; labor demands all the market can pay; the seller, to save his profit, passes the cost on to the buyer; and the buyer, to get it when he can, pays higher and higher premiums. So the cost of labor and of goods play leap-frog over each other. That is inflation. But it comes ultimately from our greed and selfishness.

   I have used economic insecurity only as an example, and because it is one of the problems most prominent at the moment. But the same thing may be said of all the other problems that trouble us—war, crime, corruption. All these, and the others you may name, grow out of the self-interests of men, which breed jealousy and strife, and where “jealousy and faction are there is confusion and every vile deed.” These come, says James, from a wisdom which is “earthy, sensual, devilish,” It is bound about by time, and blind to eternal consequence. If the advantage now seems great, it like Macbeth, “jump the life to come.” This is the nature of the wisdom of the world. In spite of its purpose to tell men how to live, it misses the mark and leaves us in confusion.

   But what is the remedy? Since our great problems grow out of the selfishness of men, they cannot be solved by iron and oil, labor, production, or multiplication of wealth. Selfishness belongs to the spirit, and must be spiritually controlled. Use the wisdom of the world for all it can offer. Increase production, raise the standards of living as high as we can, put three cars in every garage. No one could possibly object. But unless there is a spiritual development as well, we make our problems greater. When men had only fists with which to fight, hatred led merely to black eyes and bloody noses. But with billions invested in jet planes, bombers, and atom bombs, hatred can destroy the world. Our ultimate security must rest on a wisdom which reaches the heart of the problem by reaching the hearts of men. This is the wisdom which is from above, which James says “is first pure, then peaceable, gentle, easy to be entreated, full of mercy and good fruits, without variance, without hypocrisy.”

   James’s description of heavenly wisdom makes a beautiful description of Jesus himself. For Jesus in fact embodied the wisdom of heaven.

   The Apostle Paul tells the Corinthians he “was made unto us wisdom from God.” This means that in Jesus Christ— his life, his teaching, his death—is embodied the very wisdom of God. The principles revealed in his teaching touch upon every problem we will ever face, and furnish the perfect solution. For they go straight to the selfishness of men from which all our conflicts come.

   Contrary to the spirit of the world, the Wisdom of God says, “Let no man seek his own, but each his neighbor’s good.” And again he says, “Whatsoever ye would that men should do unto you, do ye even so unto them also.” This principle, if followed, would place a proper restraint on selfishness and make the earth a heaven.

   But again, Jesus points out as the greatest of all commandments, “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy soul, and with all thy mind.” And the second greatest, “Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself. Love worketh no ill to his neighbor. Love therefore is the fulfillment of the law.” The very purpose of the law is to effect justice and righteousness. Where people are selfish, however, laws are ignored. But where hearts are filled with a love of their fellow men, this very love fulfills the purpose of the law, and law becomes unnecessary.

   But great as this commandment is, the Master in his last instructions to his disciples, bound upon us an even greater principle. “A new commandment I give unto you, that ye love one another; even as I have loved you, that ye also love one another.” And he left no doubt about his meaning, when he said, “Greater love hath no man than this, that he lay down his life for his friends.”

   Hence, in human relationships Jesus bound each one of his disciples, not only to love others as himself, as the Law had said, but, if necessary, to lay down his life for his brethren. In addition to giving the command, Jesus also set the example himself. When he went to the cross he gave to the world an understanding of the full meaning of love. He revealed its utter unselfishness, and in its unselfishness a power beyond all the conceptions of men.

   But it is just here that the philosophers of Athens and the world part company with the Christ. The Apostle Paul says to the Corinthians, “the word of the cross is to them that perish foolishness; but unto us that are saved it is the power of God.” And again, “. . . we preach Christ crucified, unto . . . Gentiles foolishness; but unto them that are called . . . the power of God and the wisdom of God.”

   Why is the cross foolishness to the world? Because it means sacrifice, unselfishness, and it is hard for the world to get rid of itself. And the spirit of the world more and more permeates the church. Some time ago a Christian woman declared, “I don’t believe a person ought to sacrifice himself and what he wants for the sake of any one else.”

   “But Jesus did just that!” I said. To this there was no reply. That is what his cross means, and all the world knows it. But why should he have done so? Or why should I follow his example? That is what the world with its wisdom cannot understand. If I want something and can get it, why should I deny myself? Why should I risk my life for the sake of others, when I could live safely and enjoy the luxuries of the world?

   A young preacher some time ago stated that Stephen lacked wisdom. A preacher today would have better judgment than to anger his enemies with his teaching. I don’t know about that. But I do know that in our love of ease few people have conviction enough to deny their own pleasures, risk life, or lose the favor of men for any cause. Stephen, on the other hand, died for a faith, a conviction, a truth, which he believed even his enemies needed. Such sacrifice is hard for the world to understand, because it is hard for the world to believe and to love as Jesus loved. And it is faith and love like his which move men to forget themselves, and be willing to sacrifice their interests.

   But is the cross foolishness? Is it only the fool who is unselfish? No. The cross of Christ is the very wisdom of God. Many men have sought to rule the world by force. This is the world’s way and the world’s wisdom. So we have had our Alexanders, Caesars, Napoleons, and Hitlers. But how long did their tyrannies last? A puff of God’s breath, and their empires disappeared like chaff from the threshing floor. Napoleon, defeated and a prisoner on Elbe, at last recognized the tragedy of his and the world’s way. “Alexander, Caesar, Charlemagne and myself founded empires,” he said, “But on what foundation did we rest the creations of our genius? Upon force. Jesus Christ founded an empire upon love; and at this hour millions of men would die for him.”

   No men in the annals of history had ever possessed such military power as Napoleon and the leaders he mentioned, and no men ever used their power with such brilliancy and perfection. But in Jesus Christ Napoleon recognized a power which, even after nineteen centuries, surpassed anything these men had ever attained. But it was the power of love and not of force, of unselfishness and not of greed.

   The power of that unselfishness still reaches down through the centuries. It has sent missionaries to distant lands, to face hardships, suffering, and death. It has built hospitals and schools. After the ravages and the cruelty of war, it has bound up the wounds of enemies, cared for the fatherless and widows, fed the hungry and clothed the naked. It has overcome evil with good. If wars and the desolation wrought by hate and fear shall ever cease, it will be because enough men in all nations finally choose the unselfish way of love.

   But this is God’s wisdom—unselfishness, sacrifice, righteousness, justice, mercy. It is a wisdom of the spirit. It is his solemn charge to all who may come after. “He that would be my disciple, let him take up his cross, and follow me.” The cross—the unselfish way—is the symbol of the Christian spirit. What shall you and I do about it? The world through the centuries has followed the wisdom of men—at heart, selfishness, greed, hate, fear, and force. Is it not time to try what God’s wisdom can do? To let a love for men overcome our greed and heal our hates and fears? It is this wisdom alone which can solve the problems of our world.

Christ and Present Day Problems
The Harding College Lectures 1951
pp. 9-19