The word ‘wisdom’ can be understood in several senses, from worldly-wise craftiness in business matters, to the subject matter of philosophy (the love of wisdom), to the sage advice of a respected elder. St. Thomas Aquinas represents a synthesis of theChristian tradition when he presents wisdom as manifold, in the sense that the wise person perceives the highest cause and by that cause forms a judgment about other causes and sets them in order (Summa theologiae II-II 45.1)
One can be wise in particular matters. For example, a mechanic is wise if he sees the end or purpose of cars: to transport persons and belongings effectively, and, in some rare cases, to enthrall the driver. As a result of this knowledge, the mechanic can form a right judgment about a particular car and set all things in order to achieve that end (Summa contra gentiles 1.1).
But, a person can be wise in a deeper sense by perceiving the cause beyond all other causes. This is the perception of the “highly varied wisdom” of Eph 3:10. This kind of wisdom makes possible right judgments about divine things. But ThomasAquinas distinguishes even this sense of the word. There is the intellectual virtue of wisdom, but there is also the gift of wisdom (Is 11:8),one of the seven gifts of the Holy Spirit. With both virtue and gift, we look to the same highest cause and make similar kinds of judgments about causes. But, the intellectual virtue is acquired by effort through the inquiry of reason. It is external to the wise person, does not depend on charity, and is less practical. To the contrary, the gift of wisdom is given by God’s inspiration and is experienced directly and interiorly by the wise person. It springs from the theological virtue of charity, and owes to our kinship with divine Wisdom, who was begotten for us (Summa theologiae II-II 45.1 ad 2,45.2). It also, unlike the intellectual virtue, directs us to action; it is more practical (II-II 45.3 ad 1).
Three or four distinctions later, we seem a far cry from the martyrs, who offered and still offer their lives as bloody sacrifices with courage and heroism. But Thomas helps us make the connection: “[I]t belongs to wisdom as a gift of the Holy Spirit to judge aright about [Divine things] on account of connaturality with them: thus Dionysius says (Div. Nom. ii) that Hierotheus is perfect in Divine things for he not only learns but suffers Divine things”(Summa theologiae II-II 45.2) This word suffers reflects the Latin verb patior, which could also be translated ‘experience’ or even ‘be patient of.’ But the very ambiguity of the term itself gets across the connection with the martyrs.
The martyrs are uniquely exemplary because they participate in Christ’s passio (related to the term above). They are conformed to his death by the willing outpouring of their blood. Christ does something human (dying), but he does it in a divine way (for our salvation). Consequently, this death becomes a divine thing that the martyrs themselves do in a human way: “Now if we have died with Christ, we believe that we will also live with him” (Rom 6:8). The martyrs suffer or experience divine things, as St. Thomas teaches, and so they are wise. They become connatural with divine things by doing the kinds of things that God does as man.
It is just this picture that we get from the Passion of Perpetua and Felicity, an ancient Latin account of two female martyrs who died as bloodsport and entertainment for spectators. Throughout the account, the imprisoned and patient Perpetua is presented as wise: apocalyptic visions revealed to her in dreams suggest the opening of heaven, and, with imagery drawn from the book of Revelation, depict her victory in Christ over the Devil.
These visions end with Eucharistic imagery, just as her martyrdom ends with the kiss of peace (6.4), so that Perpetua herself is akin to the Eucharistic sacrifice. Truly her wisdom springs from charity, is experienced directly and interiorly as inspiration from God, and is eminently ordered to action, as the gift of wisdom was described earlier. In other words, in these visions, Perpetua receives the gift of wisdom and sees God as her highest cause and can make a judgment about all other causes.
The soundness of Perpetua and Felicity’s judgment is tested throughout the tale. Perpetua’s father brings her infant boy to be nursed by her and pleads affectionately with her to offer sacrifice to the Roman gods and so spare him of the loss of his daughter and his son the loss of his mother. Only wisdom cuts through this very tempting lie: “On that scaffold whatever God wills shall happen. For know that we are not placed in our own power, but in that of God” (5.2).
The wisdom of Perpetua and Felicity is the wisdom of Christ, and it is folly to the world (1 Cor 1:23) because it follows the logic of the cross (1 Cor 1:18). Their prison guards do not understand this wisdom, and so are aghast at the pregnant Felicity’s stubbornness. To their confusion, she responds, “Now it is I that suffer what I suffer; but then there will be another in me, who will suffer for me, because I also am about to suffer for Him.” (5.2).
God as Wisdom, the highest cause, not only orders all things to himself but also enters the created order of causes to enable his creation to return to himself. He suffers with us and for us so that we can suffer with him and for him, “forgetting what lies behind and straining forward to what lies ahead” (Phil 3:13).
The burden of martyrdom is the burden of Christ, but in Christ the yoke is easy and the burden is light (Mt 11:30). This paradox can only be understood with the gift of wisdom, which makes the “bitter sweet, and labor a rest” (ThomasAquinas, Summa theologiae II-II 45.2 ad 3).
