Wisdom’s Feast

In the beginning, before the foundations of the world were laid, Wisdom danced. Her laughter echoed through the formless void, a joyous invitation to a feast beyond imagining. And as the Word spoke light into being, Wisdom’s Table was set, adorned with the fruits of creation and the bread of life.

Oh, to sit at that Table! To taste the wine of Divine Love, aged in the cellars of eternity! Yet we, in our finite frames, shrink from the light. We hide in shadows of our own making, clutching fig leaves of shame to our chests. We forget that we were made for glory, for communion, for the great dance of creation.

But Wisdom still calls. Her voice rings out in the streets, in the marketplace, in the depths of our hearts. “Come!” she cries, “All is ready! The fatted calf is slain, the best robe awaits. Come, prodigals and elder sons alike, come to the Father’s embrace!”

At her Table, there unfolds a curious alchemy. Here, the hidden things of darkness are brought to light – not to condemn, but to transform. Our wounds become windows. Our scars become stars. The very things we thought would destroy us become the light by which we see the world anew. All that the light shines on not only becomes visible: it becomes light, as the Apostle Paul says (Eph 5:13-14).

Remember, oh soul, remember! For memory is the handmaiden of Wisdom. Not mere recollection, but a living, breathing remembrance that knits together our fragmented selves. In remembering, we are re-membered, our scattered parts gathered into a new whole.

See how Wisdom’s feast makes room for all! Here sit the rule-keepers and the boundary-pushers, the black-and-white thinkers and the embracers of grey. Their differing gifts, once a cacophony of conflict, become a symphony of praise under Wisdom’s conducting hand. All the birds of the air are gathered here, and nested in her ample branches.

And what of those dark growths, those hidden sins we dare not name? What about all the black flowers, the sour fruits that have sprung up in our secret garden of shame? Bring them to the Table! Her invitation is no less: bring them, yes, bring them to the Table. In Wisdom’s economy, nothing is wasted. The compost of our failures becomes fertile soil for new life. Our tears water the seeds of joy. Our confessions become songs of deliverance.

Oh, the depths of the riches of this wisdom and knowledge! How unsearchable are her judgments and her paths beyond tracing out! For Wisdom’s ways are not our ways, her thoughts not our thoughts. She leads us by paths we do not know, to places we never dreamed existed.

In her light, we see light. The scales fall from our eyes, and we behold the world as it truly is – shot through with glory, groaning in travail, yearning for redemption. And we, once blind beggars, become seers and prophets, seated with Christ in the high places, co-heirs with Him of the Divine.

So come, weary travelers, to Wisdom’s feast! Bring your broken hearts, your unanswered questions, your unfulfilled longings. Bring your intellect and your intuition, your reason and your passion. Here, at this Table, all are welcome, all are needed, all are transformed.

Wisdom is building her house, and we are her living stones. With each act of love, each choice for reconciliation, each moment of awe-struck wonder, we add our note to her cosmic symphony. And one day, when the veil is lifted and we see face to face, we will find that we have been feasting at her Table all along.

Until that day, let us feast and remember. Let us wrestle and reconcile. Let us dive deep into the mystery and soar high on the winds of grace. For Wisdom’s banquet is spread before us, a foretaste of the age to come. And her banner over us is love.

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