Scripture Daily

Context No. 253 of 4322 · Sirach

Context · Reflection

Sirach 51:17-30: in context

17I profited in her. I will give glory to him who gives me wisdom. 18For I determined to practice her. I was zealous for that which is good. I will never be put to shame. 19My soul has wrestled with her. In my conduct I was exact. I spread out my hands to the sky above, and bewailed my ignorances of her. 20I directed my soul to her. In purity I found her. I got myself a heart joined with her from the beginning. Therefore I won’t be forsaken. 21My belly also was troubled to seek her. Therefore I have gained a good possession. 22The Lord gave me a tongue for my reward. I will praise him with it. 23Draw near to me, all you who are uneducated, and live in the house of instruction. 24Why therefore are you all lacking in these things, and your souls are very thirsty? 25I opened my mouth and spoke, “Get her for yourselves without money.” 26Put your neck under the yoke, and let your soul receive instruction. She is near to find. 27See with your eyes how I labored just a little and found for myself much rest. 28Get instruction with a great sum of silver, and gain much gold by her. 29May your soul rejoice in his mercy, and may you all not be put to shame in praising him. 30Work your work before the time comes, and in his time he will give you your reward.

Sirach is a book of wisdom written by a Jewish teacher, Ben Sira, about a hundred and eighty years before Christ, and this is nearly its last page. Having spent the whole book instructing others, he ends with a personal poem about how he himself came to wisdom, and then turns to invite everyone else in.

The personal part is honest about effort. He sought wisdom from his youth, he says, wrestled with her, prayed with his hands lifted to the sky, was careful in his conduct, and found her, and God gave him a tongue as his reward, the gift of teaching. Then he calls to the uneducated to come into the house of instruction, and what he says about the cost seems to contradict itself. Get wisdom for yourselves without money, he says, it is free. In the very next breath: put your neck under the yoke, let your soul receive instruction. And then: acquire her as though with a great sum of silver, and you will gain much gold. So is she free or expensive? Both at once. Wisdom costs no money, and it costs your neck under a yoke. It asks no payment and demands all your labor, and he insists the trade is worth it: I labored only a little, he says, and found much rest.

The poem ends with a charge about timing: do your work before the time comes, and in his own time God will give you your reward. The thing worth having is offered to anyone, at no price, and still no one gets it without bending. What do I keep hoping to receive for free, that is genuinely free of cost and still requires me to put my neck under the yoke?

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