“For the fear of death is indeed the pretense of wisdom, and not real wisdom, being a pretense of knowing the unknown; and no one knows whether death, which men in their fear apprehend to be the greatest evil, may not be the greatest good.” —Plato, The Trial and Death of Socrates
Socrates says that those who fear death presume that they know something about it when they actually don’t. This kind of knowing is not “real wisdom” asserts Socrates. I’ve studied philosophy (literally, the love of wisdom) formally for six years and yet wisdom often alludes me. However, what I know is that the more that I study theology and philosophy, the more I realize the less that really know. My dogmatism easily gives way to agnosticism. It is not the celebration of ignorance or uncertainty, but simply the awareness the if we’ve already decided what we know then we often are closed to the possibility of real knowledge.
For Socrates, death could be several things. It could be a kind of dreamless sleep or a place where he could converse with other great thinkers who died before him. For him, since the mind is what is immortal, the life of the mind needs to be valued since it is the only thing that will continue after death. Because Socrates was not sure of what would happen after death, he did not fear it. This was why he did hesitate to take the hemlock which ended his life.
Wisdom is knowing the difference between not knowing and knowing. Therefore, it is open to the possibilities of knowing something we did not understand previously. We all know many people who are experts in one field who think that since they are professionals in that discipline, then it transfers over to other areas. So, mechanics think they can say something about medicine, and physicians think they know something about plumbing. Maybe that is the case, but the danger we often run into is that our areas of expertise often blind us to other areas of life. Recently, I’ve had to learn a number of new skills in order to help reach more readers. These are basic marketing and entrepreneurial skills that perhaps people learn in business school, or perhaps not. However, they are skills that I did not know and took for granted. There are so much more I need to know about running a business, but again there is much to learn.
The Hindu text called the Upanishads (उपनिषद्), the young Svetaketu is told by his father, Aruni, to go and get an education in the tradition of the Brahmin priests. After years of study, he comes back to his father is asked if he really learned anything. Aruni then tested his son’s knowledge about the relationship between the particulars of existing things and the true existence, what is called “Brahman.” Of course, Svetaketu was ignorant of this even after his twelve years of education. We can easily miss the most important lessons even after years of graduate education. In the Hebrew Scriptures, the LORD is said to appear to Solomon in a dream and spoke to Solomon: “Ask what I should give you.” Solomon responded that he wanted wisdom. Some translations render לֵ֤ב שֹׁמֵ֙עַ֙ as “wisdom” or more literally, “a listening heart.” In other words, wisdom is the ability to listen, to open one’s heart to the possibilities of knowledge. Jesus himself would often say to his disciples, “Let those who have ears, listen,” urging them to tune their ears to what they really needed to hear. Wisdom is the ability to know the difference between noise and knowledge.
What do we need to know about ourselves and our world that we might be missing in all the noise and distraction that surround us? How much time do we spend in the space of not knowing, for us to be curious and explore this void? Early Church and Medieval theologians would engage in theological discourse called apophatic theology, i.e. by way of negation. Instead of making the mistake of saying too much about God, they would rather start with what cannot be said about God. Sometimes the negative space of not knowing can be itself generative; it can be space to explore what God is “saying” to us. There is a story of the prophet Elijah’s encounter with God at Mount Horeb (1 Kings 19:11-13). On this holy mountain, he encountered several natural phenomena, but it is said that the LORD was not found in any of them. God was not in the wind, nor was God in the earthquake, nor was God in the fire, but instead God was found in the “sound of sheer silence” (NRSVue). Often, it is in the emptiness that God speaks the loudest to us. It is in the not knowing, that we come to know. For the Early Church Fathers and Mothers, and the Medieval thinkers, their not knowing would fill volumes of books.
People in recovery often recite a prayer credited to the theologian, Reinhold Niebuhr:
God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.
The wisdom here is the knowledge to know ourselves and what our limitations are. For many people in recovery, it the belief that they could control their alcohol and drug use that brought them to be dependent on the substance. Rather than controlling this aspect of their lives, they are moved to make other changes to their lives so that they can make their way toward recovery. Again, they are asked to put aside what they think they know about their ability to control their substance use and instead trust in a “higher power” for guidance. For them, wisdom is a daily practice of discernment. It is the difference between, freedom and addiction, between life and death.
Older people often thought of as being wise, but age does not necessarily equate to wisdom. Sometimes, just because people experience certain life event, they think that this makes them wise. It may be the case, but sometimes people make the same mistakes without learning anything. Sometimes, people are blinded by their biases and prejudices. The wise are those who work at embracing that they don’t know many things and are opened to the possibilities of understanding. It is a challenge to their certainty.
There are many opportunities for us to act wisely and think deeply about others and our world. It takes putting down what we think we know about any given situation, about any one person. If we take some time to take a deep breath, and exhale, that void, that space might be filled with something life giving. Ask yourself: In what area in my life that need to grow, to test the boundaries of certainty?
The more I learn, especially about myself, the more I value claims that are falsifiable, ideas that could be tested. This makes sure I am dealing with reality and not ideas that I’ve made up. If my claims could be proven false, they might also be proven true. But whatever the case, I need to be open either way. In this space, I might be able to learn, grow, and become truly alive.
Such perceptive observations here on wisdom. I really like this idea of 'true knowledge' being generated in this gap, even if temporary, between thinking we know but really not knowing. Almost like addition by subtraction. Being willing to live in uncertainty.