What is wisdom exactly? Is it the ability to think clearly in a moral context? Is it something that we are learning here on this earth? Is it something that should eventually be independent of our Heavenly Parents? Or is it, by nature, listening to Them?

Thinking in this vein, the books of Proverbs and Ecclesiastes complicate the question. As compilations of sayings likely collected from many sources, they represent a collective wisdom, learned by both experience and inspiration. Their inclusion in the canon of scripture suggests that wisdom is something that can be collected and passed on, in addition to something that involves how we think about life and problems. Whatever was originally inspired by God has been refined and restated by many people, and is now in a form that provides us with further inspiration.

So, is the wisdom there learned by generations of wise men, or is it inspiration from God? Perhaps the question is part of the problem, because the question assumes that wisdom is either from wise men or from God. Can’t it be both? I’m not sure that inspiration is something that can be neatly divided into what comes from God and what comes from us. Given that we’re not really independent of others in this life, I’m not even sure that we will ever be truly independent, not even in the next life.

 

“Incline thine ear unto wisdom.”

When we seek wisdom, as this suggestion suggests, we are looking for one of the most valuable gifts we can obtain in this life, since its value often extends beyond this life into the next life. While such wisdom might not come directly from God, we might ask how we can trust it if it doesn’t come from above? How would any earthly source of wisdom know things that are of a heavenly nature?

In this poem, Eliza R. Snow praises the value of wisdom and explains its value, suggesting that wisdom isn’t deceptive (‘has no false attraction’) and doesn’t seek control. In addition, she observes that our current age benefits from wisdom previously not available without the restoration.

 

Richer than the pearls which ocean

Treasures in its ample bed;

Is each cherish’d, sweet emotion,

Wisdom gently deigns to shed.

 

Wisdom has no false attraction—

Pure and spotless is her soul—

When she stimulates to action,

Hers, is no usurp’d control.

 

Onward, Time! thy chariot hasten—

Let the scenes of life awake;

When their keen corrosives chasten

Then, I’ll smile, for Wisdom’s sake.

 

Welcome Age! I’ll hail our union

As a point replete with gain,

If thro’ thee, a full communion

I, with Wisdom, shall obtain.

 

Bind thy wreath about my temples-

Place thy signet on my brow—

On my cheek, thy furrow-dimples,

Plant, where blood is coursing now.

 

If she loves the hoary headed,

Let me be what Wisdom loves;

Let my nature all be wedded

To whatever she approves.

 

By her heav’nly precepts guided—

With her counsel for my shield,

All my efforts, undivided,

Shall, for Truth, the falchion wield.

1842

 

“Be not wise in thine own eyes: fear the Lord.”

Perhaps the most glaring and obvious error that we make after learning some kind of  wisdom is the accompanying pride in our accomplishment. We think that somehow our obtaining knowledge itself makes us wise. In the scriptures, the problem is not only clear, but clearly condemned.

The following poem suggests that the remedy is not ignorance, but more knowledge. True wisdom is more than simply gaining knowledge — it is understanding when and how to use that knowledge.

 

“A little knowledge is a dangerous thing,

Drink deep, or touch not the Pierian Spring.”

We must learn more.

‘Tis not enough that we behold the growth of years,

Or read the lore

In tomes, piled high by ancient masters wrought,

Whose yellow pages mark the slow progress of time

That long before our day

Have gathered to themselves a wealth of thought;

And lightly skim them as the swallow skims the sky.

‘Tis not the whole of life, to live and die.

We have climbed well,

And left behind the vale of ignorance and doubt

Where nations fell

Enchained and fettered by Tradition’s hand.

We have harked the voice of knowledge

Like a bell ring out

Until her light of Freedom warmed the land.

And midway standing, we, twixt gloom and sun,

Why pause we thus and wist the guerdon won?

Do you not know

Oh man of Science, nature wise and grim,

As through slow,

Long years you trace her works with eyes half blind,

If satisfied you stand denying any hand save Chance,

The one-celled amoeba

Its genesis shall tell from shore to shore?

Seek further till at last you come to know

Man’s wisdom cannot make a seed to grow.

‘Twere all in vain!

Achievement’s triumph, Invention’s wondrous gifts

Were little gain

When they but aid mankind to lay their brothers low;

When thirst for knowledge turns to thirst for blood;

While bitter pain and woe

Like scourges dire, the land and sea o’erflow.

They learned to skim the air, the waters span,

Yet learned they not The Brotherhood of Man.

Oh haste the Day

When man shall drop his egotistic pride

And once more lay

His hard earned laurels at the throne of Grace,

And still toil on, nor satisfied, but ever on.

He then will say: “Creator,

Throughout the universe Thy hand I trace,

With eye and brain Thy mysteries I behold,

Yet can I not a millionth part unfold.”

1916

 

“Trust in the Lord with all thine heart.”

So where does all this leave us with the Lord? The scriptures make clear that acquiring knowledge can be a problem if it leads to pride. And the worst version of that pride is when we loose trust in the Lord — when we think we don’t need the Lord’s perspective; when we think we can do things ourselves.

This is true even when we know the territory well. In her paean to Utah below, Lu Dalton suggests that even knowing the geography and benefits of the land isn’t enough without a trust in God. Even when under the persecution of others, Dalton suggests, wisdom is relying on God instead of our own knowledge.

 

Thou dear rugged land, full of frowns and smiles,

Secreted and hidden away,

Like a rough-hewn gem which its owner designs

To burnish at some future day.

With secret rejoicing he knows its vast worth,

And hoards it with reverent care,

Till, ready to dazzle all eyes on the earth,

He sets it ’mid all that is fair.

 

Thus, Utah, thy guardian hid thee away,

And gave thee a look to repel

The eyes of beholders who hither might stray;

The secret thou never didst tell,

That bountiful gifts in thy bosom were stored,

Awaiting the glad, coming day

When sweetly would come the kind word of thy Lord,

O doors of my treasures, give way.

 

All bare lay thy vales ‘neath the sun’s angry glare,

Unblessed by the quickening rain;

Thy few meagre streamlets, like some timid hare,

Appeared and soon vanished again;

Thy brief, sultry summers made haste to be gone,

With frost pressing eagerly nigh;

Thy long bitter winters came sullenly on,

Benumbing lake, mountain and sky.

 

A land undesirable, barren and cold,

Unfriendly, forbidding and dry,

No corn, wine, nor olives, no silver nor gold

Displayed to tempt man’s roving eye;

The curse of Gomorrah seemed hovering o’er

To blight thee and burn thee to dust;

But thou, uncomplaining, within thy closed door,

Satst patiently keeping thy trust.

 

His own He led hither, a-hungered and lone,

And labor he gave as a key

To open His storehouse and take for their own,

Whatever their needs well might be.

And blessed He their labor an hundred fold,

And caused in its furrows to spring

Rich harvests more precious than jasper and gold,

And waters with gladness to sing.

 

Then warm grew thy heart with its long hoarded love,

And tender the light of thine eyes,

Thy smiles like the morning, thy voice like a dove,

And balmy the breath of thy skies.

Oh well didst thou comfort the weary and weak,

And hide in thy chambers so lone,

The loved of thy Lord, who came hither to seek

For bread, and received not a stone.

 

He led them to thee for a seasan of peace,

To rest from the rage of His foes;

Their few flocks and herds He gave wondrous increase,

Thy deserts the bloom of the rose.

He poured in full measure the rain, hail, and snow,

To slake the mad thirst of the ground;

And troops of fair children He sent here below,

Like lillies upspringing around.

 

The past had thy frowns, the glad present thy smiles,

And thanks we most gratefully pay;

We’re rested and strengthened ‘mid thy rugged aisles;

We’ll bless thee forever and aye.

And well do we know thou still lovest to give,

And boundless thy wealth still untold,

Thou’lt further enrich us if purely we live,

And defile not the blessings we hold.

 

There be who would gladly turn us from thy door,

And take, on thy motherly breast,

Our place and the love thou dost lavishly pour

As waves o’er thy children so blest.

Ah, well do we know that thy love is our own,

And could not be wrested away;

Thou’dst pine in deep grief if thy dear ones were gone,

Thy beauties would fade and decay.

 

Thy sorrow would drink up the life-giving streams,

Thy mourning to winter add gloom;

Thine anguish rob summer of gladdening beams,

Thy bosom grow cold as a tomb;

Thou knowest no law but the will of thy Lord,

Who journeyeth not nor doth sleep;

Thou givest no gift save at His gracious word,

Thy trust thou wilt faithfully keep.

 

Dear Utah, God bless thee, who holds in His hand,

The coil of mysterious fate!

And if thy dear children, thy fugitive band,

Fall under the yoke of grim hate,

From thee may they learn, through long seasons of death,

Though bowed with their lips in the dust,

To wait in calm patience His due time on earth,

And keep unto god their high trust.

1890

 

“A soft answer turneth away wrath.”

One place where wisdom is especially valuable is during disputes. What we say can either inflame the situation or diffuse it entirely. Even not saying anything, or talking about a different topic can be the wrong approach—avoiding can seem like ignoring, like pretending that there is no dispute. How to react is a skill that must be learned, a kind of wisdom that is lacking today.

Poet J. W. Welch gives some good advice along these lines in the following poem, which not only urges ‘speaking gently’, but does so by focusing on the meaning and depth of our relationships. He focuses on what our relationships should mean to us, the underlying love that should be there, as a reason for “speaking gently.”

 

SPEAK gently to thy father,

For he is aged now,

The frosts of many winters

Have fallen on his brow.

Soon, soon above his sleeping dust

The willow tree will wave;

Then try by gentle words to smooth

His pathway to the grave.

 

Speak gently to thy mother,

‘Twas she who gave thee birth;

She watched o’er thee in infancy,

And guarded thee in youth.

She, too, will soon be called away

To a better home above-

Speak gently to thy mother

The words of deepest love.

 

Speak gently to thy sister,

Thee she doth fondly love,

Then never let an unkind word

Her gentle spirit move.

Uphold her as she roams along

Through life’s oft weary day,

And should she weep, with friendly hand-

Wipe thou her tears away.

 

Speak gently to thy brother,

Whate’er his lot may be,

And do thou his shortcoming scan

With heartfelt charity.

When tears of grief bedim his eye,

Then be thou by his side,

If he joy, join in his mirth-

If rude, why gently chide.

 

Speak gently to thy fellow-man,

Of high or lowly birth;

Speak gently to him if he’s poor

Or rich in things of earth.

Speak gently thou to every one,

Kind words will cost thee nothing,

And every one will prove a star

In the crown of thy rejoicing.

1856

 

“A woman that feareth the Lord, she shall be praised.”

Often the social environment influences the kind of wisdom we need. In mid-19th century Utah the role of women was a prominent issue, following the 1848 women’s rights convention and the issues facing the new territory, which became the first in the U. S. to give women the right to vote, while simultaneously promoting polygamous marriages that were often thought to disadvantage women. How, among all the competing views of women, could one balance these issues with a relationship with the Lord?

In the following poem, Eliza R. Snow attempts to balance all this, supporting elements of the nascent woman’s rights’ movement while also showing an ennobling role for women only found in the gospel.

 

Before this noble audience, once again

A Lyre of Zion re-resumes its strain.

Thought is a currency—Speech is design’d

To circulate the treasures of the mind.

When this Society convenes, this Hall

Is a grand reservoir, supplying all:

And constitutes an intellectual mint,

Where words are coin’d—ideas take their tint—

Where morals, arts and sciences are taught—

Mind prompting mind, and thought inspiring thought.

When last assembled, woman’s worth and sphere

Were beautifully illustrated here:

And then the thought suggested to my view,

That woman’s self might speak of woman too:

But not for “Woman’s Rights” to plead or claim—

No! that, in Zion, I should blush to name.

I have apologies to offer here

For Gentile ladies who disclaim their sphere.

Having obtained enough of truthful light,

To see life’s strange perversions of the right;

They seek with noble, yet misguided aim,

Corruption and abuses to reclaim:

But all their efforts to remove the curse

Are only making matters worse and worse.

They could as well unlock without a key,

As change the tide of man’s degeneracy,

Without the holy priesthood: ’tis at most,

Like reck’ning bills in absence of the host.

No more of this. I’ll speak of woman now

When Inspiration’s pow’rs, the mind endow—

Where rules are giv’n to renovate the earth—

To try all textures and to prove all worth.

And what is woman’s calling? where her place?

Is she destin’d to honor? or disgrace?

The season’s gone when she could set her stake

To which the will of man must bow or break—

The time is past for her to reign alone,

And singly make a husband’s heart her throne:

No more she stands with sovereignty confess’d;

Nor yet a play-thing, dandled and caress’d;

Neither a dazzling butterfly or mote,

On light, ethereal, balmy waves to float.

Hers is a holy calling, and her lot

With consequence most highly, deeply fraught—

“Help-meet” for man—with him she holds a key

Of present and eternal destiny.

She bends from life’s illusive greatness down—

“She stoops to conquer”—serves to wear a crown.

Love, kindness, rectitude, with wisdom fraught

Form woman’s greatness, wheresoe’er her lot:

However great, let once her aim be pow’r,

She sinks—decreases from that hapless hour!

Aspiring brains fictitious heights create

And seek to clothe in greatness, ere they’re great:

All dignity is but an idle sport,

Where goodness forms no pillar for support.

Who thro’ submission, faith, and constancy,

Like ancient Sarah, gains celebrity;

And thus obtains an honorable place;

A high position may sustain and grace.

That there are rights and privileges too,

To woman’s sphere, and to her duties due;

Reason and justice—truth and heav’n confirm;

But they’re not held by force, nor took by storm.

If “rights” are right when they are rightly gain’d,

“Rights” must be wrong when wrongfully obtain’d:

The putting forth a hand to take the prize

Before we fairly win it, is unwise.

Let woman then, a course in life pursue

To purchase man’s respect, as merit’s due,

And feeling God’s approval, act her part

With noble independence in her heart;

Nor change, nor swerve, nor shrink, whatever is;

Though fools may scoff—impertinence may quiz:

Faithful, though oft in faithfulness unknown—

With no whereon to lean, but God alone.

Then by the laws which rule the courts above,

She holds the charter to a husband’s love,

Which built on confidence—by virtue won,

Will amply—will abundantly atone

For what she feels at times, neglected now—

Misjudg’d and unappreciated too.

With chaff and tares, wheat may be buried low—

Gold hid in dross, where none but angels know.

Wit, youth, and beauty oft a charm impart

Which throws a magic spell around the heart;

But ’tis an influence ever prone to wane

Unless the powers of worth that charm sustain.

The jewel, confidence, is far above

The fickle streams of earth’s degen’rate love.

Nature, inviolate holds certain laws—

There’s no effect produc’d without a cause:

Integrity and faithfulness, through hard

And patient labor, reap their own reward.

The gains of craft will take their own light wings,

And all assumptions are but short-liv’d things.

As we move forward to a perfect state

And leave the dross degeneracies create:

Laws of affinity will closely bind

Heart unto heart—congenial mind to mind.

Life, Order—all things are in embryo,

And through experience God is teaching how

To mould—to fashion to the pattern giv’n—

To show on earth a specimen of heaven.

A calm must be preceded by a storm,

And revolutions go before reform:

Faith, practice, heads and hearts must all be tried,

To test what can and what cannot abide.

When shakings, tossings, changings, all are thro’—

All things their level find—their classes too;

A perfect government will be restor’d,

And Truth and Holiness and God ador’d,

But ere this renovating work is thro’,

Woman, as well as man, has much to do:

Responsibilities, however great,

Advancing onward will increase in weight;

And she, that she receiving, may dispense,

Needs wisdom, knowledge and intelligence;

Of high refinements too, she should partake

With rich endowments; for her offspring’s sake.

Queen of her household—authorized to bless—

To plant the principles of righteousness—

To paint the guideboard that thro’ life will tell,

And lead instinctively to heaven or hell—

To fix the base, the fundamental part

Of future greatness in the head and heart,

Which constitutes the germ of what will be

In the high courts of immortality.

What we experience here, is but a school

Wherein the rul’d may be prepar’d to rule.

The secret and the key—the spring—the soul

Of rule—of government, is self-control.

Cloth’d with the beauties, purity reflects,

The acknowledg’d glory of “the other sex,”

From life’s crude dross and rubbish will come forth,

By weight of character—by strength of worth;

And thro’ obedience woman will obtain

The power of reigning and the right to reign.

1855

 

Mortal life is temporary.

Perhaps the most valuable idea in earthly wisdom is a recognition that this life is temporary. I suspect that the root of all wisdom is an eternal perspective, in which we recognize the breadth and depth of actions. Even in this life our actions not only accomplish their goals, but change who we are and affect others in ways that are not always clear.

Something about the process of aging makes all this easier to understand, as William Burton explains in this meditation on his 67th birthday. Burton sees that many friends and loved ones have passed on and sees the joys and sorrows that are a normal part of this life.

 

Another milestone passed today!

This ends my sixty-seventh year.

The years, like milestones, mark the way

Of all that are sojourning here.

This mortal life, we count by years;

Each year, a milestone on life’s way;

Some linger in this vale of tears,

While others shortly pass away.

 

When first we come, how frail we are!

Nought else is born so helpless here;

An animal knows more by far,

And is more helpful in its sphere.

How gladsome does life’s morning seem,

Before the heart is touched with care!

Youth is full of a hopeful dream;

The future, full of promise fair.

 

When youth and health are both our own,

And life with pleasure is replete,

Nor death has in our ranks been known,

Oh! then our life indeed is sweet.

Father, mother, both are with us,

Brothers, sisters, loved ones dear;

Little think we, they may leave us,

And dream not that the time is near

 

Our measure, full of joy today,

To-morrow, may be full of tears;

Sometimes we’re sad, and sometimes gay,

Then full of hope, or full of fears.

Sunshine mingles with the showers;

And then the glorious rainbow’s seen;

Thus like this mortal life of ours,

Where joys and sorrows intervene.

 

My friends of early life are gone,

Those whom I knew in childhood’s day,

Save here and there a single one

Who sometimes haps to pass my way.

My old time friends, I welcome you!

Whose love is deep, and friendship strong,

And grasp the hand, found ever true,

Which helps the right, and strikes the wrong!

1900