The Gift of the Holy Spirit: Wisdom
“Now the words and deeds of Christ are also those of God. Thus, if one tried to write and tell of the nature of every one, he could not do so; indeed, the entire world could not do this. This is because even an infinite number of human words cannot equal one word of God.
“From the beginning of the Church, Christ has been written about; but this is still not equal to the subject. Indeed, even if the world lasted a hundred thousand years, and books were written about Christ that whole time, his words and deeds could not be completely revealed” (St. Thomas Aquinas, Commentary of the Gospel of John 21:25).
Note from the editor: This article is part of a series on the gifts of the Holy Spirit. Read the articles about knowledge, fortitude, counsel, understanding, fear of the Lord, and piety.
I have been struggling to write this piece for weeks. I was intimidated at the outset. “What even is wisdom? And who am I to write about it?” I thought.
I dove into the Catechism. I tried reading the Book of Wisdom. I prayed (for wisdom), and I asked for input from others. But the more I read, thought, and asked, the more unable I felt to grasp the concept.
Then I read this reflection from St. Thomas Aquinas, and things started to click. My swirling thoughts and pages of notes finally started to make some semblance of sense. Much to my surprise, I’ve come to realize that my (our) smallness is exactly the point of wisdom.
Receiving the Gift
The gifts of the Holy Spirit aren’t things we earn or achieve. They are given to us, in order to “complete and perfect [our] virtues” and to make us “docile in readily obeying” the promptings of the Lord (Catechism of the Catholic Church 1831). The concept of true gift can be difficult to wrap our human mind and heart around—and the gift of wisdom is particularly challenging, because, as Scripture says, wisdom is “the reflection of eternal light, the spotless mirror of the power of God, the image of his goodness” (Wisdom 7:26). How can we even begin to comprehend that we deserve a gift like that?
Frankly, we don’t deserve this gift. But we need it.
Because we have work to do.
Scripture illustrates what I mean. During the Easter season, we hear stories of how, after his resurrection, the Lord appears to his disciples in truly personal ways:
He calls out, “Mary,” in a way that breaks through Mary Magdalene’s overwhelming confusion and grief (John 20:16).
With a gentle admonishment, he shows Thomas his hands and side, asking him to believe (John 20:27).
In a persistent string of questions and commands, he urges Peter to follow him and care for his Church (John 21:16-19).
With warm hospitality, he treats a group of disciples to breakfast on the beach, nourishing them for the days ahead (John 21:12).
The Catechism tells us that “the moral life of Christians is sustained by the gifts of the Holy Spirit” and that through the sacraments and special graces, we are kept “fit and ready to undertake [the] various tasks and offices for the renewal and building up of the Church” (CCC 1831, 798).
That’s exactly what we see at play in Scripture. In many of these stories, his disciples don’t recognize the Lord at first—perhaps they’re too preoccupied with their own sorrow or worry. But, in love, he reveals himself to them and, in doing so, reveals (at least a little bit) how things fit together. He helps them make sense of everything that happened to them. He reveals the purpose of their pain and how they fit into his plan. He reveals just enough to fortify them so that they can persevere in the mission he’s called them to.
The same Christ from the Scriptures is living and active in our lives today, and he is still sending his Holy Spirit to sustain, nurture, and fortify us in our own callings.
A Gift for Others
But even though the Holy Spirit continues to fortify us, it’s not necessarily for us. Until I started working on this piece, that’s what I misunderstood about wisdom. I equated wisdom with clarity, or the ability to know and see all that the future has in store for me. In fact, I’ve been praying for just that knowledge for a while now and have felt discouraged at the lack of answers I’ve received. You’re not going to show me the future, God? How rude!
But, wisdom isn’t about achieving clairvoyance. Instead, it’s about being in right relationship with the Lord, trusting that he will reveal what we need to know, when we need to know it—not for our own security but to reveal his majesty.
The gift of wisdom is the gift of seeing the way God sees—not in a fortune-teller kind of way but in a fullness-of-time kind of way. When we receive even an ounce of wisdom, we become aware of the majesty and grandeur, the constancy, providence, and enduring nature of God. And we become acutely aware of our place in the larger story of his providence.
An example from my personal life immediately comes to mind. One day, in a Target parking lot, a friend called and shared with me the story of her miscarriage. I was immediately taken back to memories of my own losses. I remembered the hollowness, anger, and shame. But, at the same time, I felt an acute awareness of God’s goodness. At that moment (through what I believe to be the gift of wisdom), he made sense of my pain and suffering. “Without those experiences,” he whispered, “you would not be able to fully receive your friend now, in her own moment of sorrow.”
Alongside the sorrow was deep gratitude. I knew for a moment that my life matters. He didn’t forget me, because he does not forget his beloved children. He doesn’t miss a single thing that happens to us. He has not forgotten you.
Alongside the gratitude was friendship. As the Lord works all things—our struggles, our insecurities, our failures, our sorrow—for his own good, he ultimately reveals that he is good. In this gift of an interaction, I came to know his mercy and tenderness more fully.
We Have a Role to Play
How does wisdom play out in the workplace?
While wisdom isn’t about us, we do matter, because we are part of the mystical Body of Christ. We are Christ’s hands and feet here on earth, and we can help testify to and reveal the Lord to others. In his wisdom, the Lord knows the precise way we need to encounter him in order to believe more, love more, and serve more. Sometimes those encounters even happen through messy people like me (and you), even at work. (If the Lord can send the Holy Spirit down in the middle of a Target parking lot, you bet he can send it to us at work, too.)
In my experience, moments of “work wisdom” haven’t been as clear cut or striking as that moment at Target. Rather, they’ve shown up as a sense of pervasive calm when others have felt frenzied or as confidence in a high-pressure situation that rattles others (or would normally rattle me). In those moments, while I may not speak explicitly about the Lord, I can point to his nature—reassuring, comforting, empowering, forgiving. And, I can offer my example of trust as a guidepost to others. The Lord will do the rest.
He’s Taking Care of Things Right Now
Living—and working—in line with the gift of wisdom means keeping the “long view” in mind. When we encounter hardship in the workplace, in our family, or elsewhere, instead of dwelling in the discomfort, we can acknowledge it and say, “Lord, I know you see me in this moment. I know you love me. And, I know you’ll reveal yourself to me through this … somehow.”
This Sunday at Mass, we sang “How Can I Keep from Singing?” It’s always been one of my favorite songs, but perhaps because I’ve been thinking about this article for so long, it felt extra special; its lyrics took on a new, wise light for me. With the gift of wisdom, our attitude can become a lot like these lyrics—and what a gift that would be!
My life flows on in endless song;
Above earth’s lamentation,
I hear the sweet, tough far-off hymn
That hails a new creation;
Through all the tumult and the strife
I hear the music ringing;
It finds an echo in my soul—
How can I keep from singing?
What tho’ my joys and comforts die?
The Lord my Saviour liveth;
What tho’ the darkness gather round?
Songs in the night he giveth.
No storm can shake my inmost calm
While to that refuge clinging;
Since Christ is Lord of heaven and earth,
How can I keep from singing?
I lift my eyes; the cloud grows thin;
I see the blue above it;
And day by day this pathway smooths,
Since first I learned to love it,
The peace of Christ makes fresh my heart,
A fountain ever springing;
All things are mine since I am his—
How can I keep from singing?
Remember, sisters: We are his, now and forever.
Tara Wright is an artist, Marine wife, and happy Catholic. By day, Tara creates content for Sesame Workshop, the nonprofit force behind the beloved children’s show “Sesame Street.” She is the owner of Tara Wright Studio, where she specializes in custom art and illustration, and is co-founder of Scatter and Sow. After spending several years on the east coast, Tara and her family now call Oklahoma home.