Wisdom's Wake

A Reflection on the First Reading for Sunday, February 12th, 2023:
​The Sixth Sunday in Ordinary Time

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Sirach
15.15-20

If you choose, you can keep the commandments, and they will save you. If you trust in God, you too shall live, and to act faithfully is a matter of your own choice.

The Lord has placed before you fire and water; stretch out your hand for whichever you choose. Before each person are life and death, good and evil and whichever one chooses, that shall be given.

For great is the wisdom of the Lord; he is mighty in power and sees everything; his eyes are on those who fear him, and he knows every human action. He has not commanded anyone to be wicked, and he has not given anyone permission to sin.

For most of my life, that which I was forbidden to do was the very thing I couldn’t help but try. My curiosity and belligerence led me down dark paths of evil and self-destruction. At times, I even chose paths that led to the destruction of others. It ruined me. And I ruined them. 

Looking back on my former self, I see a young, lost, angry girl, recklessly tearing through the pages of her life as she reached for the fire, time and again, burning away all manner of hope. There was no commitment in her. She preferred to leave all her painful relationships in heaps of ashes with no risk of a rekindled flame. She lacked wisdom and foresight, and she trusted no one. It was her desire for acceptance, to be seen, that led her to grasp the fire without counting the cost. Filled with pride and determined to forge her own path, she staggered blindly through the world, being pulled and prodded at until, eventually, her legs gave out and she could forge ahead no longer.

From the floor, thirsty and dry, she finally asked for a drink.

Mine has been a dramatic and passionate story. One that began in passionate lies and has been redirected toward a passion for Truth. I’d be dipping back into the lies if I told you I no longer reach for the fire. Because I do. All the time. And it is still self-destructive, and it still hurts others. The difference now, in this life of faith, is that I see the second choice — often in hindsight — but I see it. And I have the opportunity to choose it even after the fire has burned me. In fact, I have learned that the power in choosing the Water is even more thoroughly cleansing through the process of repair. Acknowledging my error, and apologetically so, brings new life to relationships, both the human ones and the divine. And as I do this, shifting my choice to the good, the paradoxical truth of His fire is enacted through the Holy Spirit and the dark residue of evil is burned away, leaving all my goodness intact. Rather than expecting perfection from myself, I expect perfection from God, and I lean into His mercy and grace. He may not have given me permission to sin, but He readily forgives, and I must readily ask for His mercy.

These are the ordinary lessons I appreciate about Ordinary Time. Holiness grows in these everyday actions, one movement at a time, one choice and then another. Our growth is stimulated when we ask Him to pour His water on the ashes we’ve created. It happens slowly, and I’m learning to appreciate His pace. 

Gentle Father, thank You for seeing and accepting me despite the choices I’ve made. I’m sorry for all the times I’ve reached for the fire. As I recommit myself to You today, I offer You my trust, for I know You know all things. And now, as I settle into Your care, my scorched soul is quenched by Your love’s kiss, and my heart sings freely in the wake of Your wisdom.



Lori MacDonald

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