Editor’s Note: Good Faith Media recently attended the International Baptist Theological Studies Centre’s (IBTS) annual research colloquium in Amsterdam. A longstanding IBTS tradition is for the entire research community to gather for dinner on Thursday night of colloquium week, followed by an after-dinner speech. This year’s speech was given by Helle Liht, who serves the Canadian Baptist Ministries as the Director of Partnerships. The following manuscript has been minimally edited to reflect its original spoken context.

I don’t know if you are familiar with the tradition of after-dinner speeches, but they are truly a genre of their own. One of their primary aims is to entertain the audience, and the British seem to take great pride in this.

After-dinner speeches have been around for ages. The world’s first recording of an after-dinner speech dates back to October 5th, 1888. It was delivered by Sir Arthur Sullivan, who, in his speech, praised Thomas Edison’s work for his invention of the phonograph.

Anyway, I had not heard of after-dinner speeches until my time as a student at IBTS. It’s amazing how many things you can learn at IBTS! 

Now, the question is, how has this deeply English tradition become part of an International Theological institution? Well, the last three IBTS directors since the last century have hailed from the British Isles.

But the bigger question is, how and why does the new director, who comes from Croatia, choose to continue this tradition? And an even greater mystery: why has he invited an Estonian, who struggles to tell jokes even in her mother tongue, let alone in English, to deliver this speech? Some questions, I suppose, will forever remain unanswered.

With that said, ladies and gentlemen, thank you for having me tonight. Isn’t it wonderful that we are gathered here—well-fed, surrounded by fellow students, professors and friends, and about to embark on an after-dinner speech about wisdom?

Because, really, what else would we talk about at a colloquium of theology students? After all, everyone around this dinner table—regardless of our political preferences—values wisdom, right?

Let’s start with a tale from the beginning of time. As we all know, there is a story of humanity’s first dinner disaster—when Adam and Eve ruined paradise with a questionable snack. 

Yes, my friends, it was a “dietary choice” that changed history. Forget carb-free or keto; their mistake was reaching for the wrong fruit.

Picture this: Adam and Eve are chilling in the beautiful Garden of Eden. Everything is perfect—free food, no rent, no dress code. And then enters the serpent, who is basically the first life coach in history, whispering, “Pssst… want to be like God? Eat this.”

And Eve, bless her heart, sees the fruit and thinks, Wow, that looks tasty. And it will make me wise like God? Sold! 

So, she takes a bite. Then Adam joins in because he’s a supportive partner. And just like that, humanity trades eternal bliss for… wisdom.

But here’s the real question: why didn’t God want them to eat that fruit? Didn’t God create them in God’s own image, with the potential to grow wise?

A seventh-century theologian, John of Damascus, made a fascinating observation: God and the serpent offered the same thing—God-likeness—but through very different means.

According to him, God had a more hands-on training plan in mind. God offered wisdom through cultivating the garden—through patience, dedication, humility and love. 

By tending the garden, people would gradually learn God’s ways and, step by step, grow towards maturity and God-likeness. Through this labor, they would come to love the garden deeply because they had invested so much into it.

Serpent’s way? Eat the fruit! Instant wisdom, no waiting!

It’s like God said, “Take the scenic route, spend time,” while the serpent waved a flyer for the express train.

Of course, Adam and Eve opted for the express lane to enlightenment. Classic humans—always looking for the shortcut. Who needs patience when there’s instant gratification?

But hey, let’s not judge. We’re all guilty of shortcuts. 

Raise your hand if you’ve ever Googled “How to look smart without reading the book.” Or, more seriously, “I will check on how AI would write my dissertation…” 

Don’t lie—I see some guilty faces out there.

Adam and Eve failed to distinguish between the two routes because the ultimate goal — God-likeness —appeared to be the same. The serpent did not change the goal but only the means of achieving it. 

Adam and Eve chose the serpent’s path. And they did indeed become knowledgeable.

If we look at human progress, it has been astonishing. Over time, tremendous advancements have been made:

  • The domestication of wild plants into powerful agriculture, even to genetically modified organisms yielding much higher harvests;
  • From the invention of the wheel to the construction of spacecrafts;
  • From small fires to harnessing solar panels;
  • From painting on walls of the caves to posting videos across the vastness of cyberspace.

Progress, right? No doubt, humanity is incredibly knowledgeable!

However, alongside every genius invention, there are also wars and battles. Today, one of the many of the world’s wars has come very close to us here in Europe.

Alongside this progress, we see:

  • The invention of killing machines and the growing use of them;
  • Enslavement and exploitation of people for personal gain;
  • The accumulation of wealth at the expense of others;
  • Pollution of nature, extinction of plant and animal species
  • Violence and abuse of power, sowing death and suffering for humanity and all creation;
  • And reality TV! (I mean, whoever thought, “Let’s combine cameras, drama, and too much wine to create a hit show,” was clearly missing God’s seminar on humility); or,
  • Social media–endless space to spend hours arguing with strangers. 

So, the wisdom that Adam and Eve hoped to gain turned out to be foolishness, leading to destruction. Shortcuts.

Here’s the thing about shortcuts: they often lead to dead ends. Sure, you can fake it for a while, but true wisdom—the kind God offers—requires patience, dedication, humility and love. 

Sadly, these things can not be downloaded. What, then, is the wisdom God offered to humanity in Eden through the cultivation of the garden?

The Bible gives us a beautiful image of wisdom as a gracious hostess. We read in Proverb 9:1-6,10:

Wisdom has built her house; she has set up its seven pillars.

She has slaughtered her animals; she has mixed her wine; she has also set her table.

She has sent out her servant-girls; she calls from the highest places in the town,

“You that are simple or inexperienced, turn in here!” To those without sense, she says, “Come, eat of my bread and drink of the wine I have mixed. Forsake foolishness and you will live, walk in the way of insight.”

The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom, and the knowledge of the Holy One is insight.

In Hebrew wisdom literature, wisdom is personified. It is not some abstract concept or theoretical discourse. 

Wisdom takes on a definite form, speaks and acts in certain ways, and is very practical. Interestingly, in Hebrew, the word for “wisdom” (hokmah) is feminine, and many Anglo-American theologians who study Hebrew wisdom literature use the term “Lady Wisdom.”

Now, men, if you are worried that wisdom is feminine and think that, as its opposite, foolishness must be masculine, do not worry. There’s no reason to! The second half of this chapter in Proverbs speaks of foolishness, and this, too, is a feminine term in Hebrew!

So, the value of this text certainly does not lie in the gender of wisdom. Although, at the U.S. President’s inauguration service a couple of days ago, wisdom clearly spoke with a female voice.

So what does this text then say? From slaughtered animals to baked bread and mixed wine, Lady Wisdom didn’t just throw together a last-minute potluck. No, this was a feast far exceeding the everyday diet of an average Israelite. 

Meat, bread, and wine are essential elements of hospitality in the Middle East. Back then, serving meat wasn’t just generous; it was a public declaration of wealth and goodwill.

Lady Wisdom invites everyone, even the simple, the impoverished, and those with no sense–those who cannot invite her back or repay her. Not those who would honor her with their presence, but rather those whom she seeks to honor and serve.

Lady Wisdom is hospitable. She does not impose herself but invites others and offers her best. 

Surely, the host also finds joy in the guests, but her hospitality is not self-centered. It is focused on others.

In other words, wisdom does not discriminate. Wisdom is not arrogant. 

Wisdom does not act out of self-interest. And wisdom serves others so that they too may find life.

Lastly, the proverb tells us, “The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom” (9:10). Now, fear here doesn’t mean “run screaming.” It’s more about reverence—putting God first.

In Eden, Adam and Eve lost that reverence. They thought, “We know better.” Yet this knowledge, as mentioned earlier, turned out to be foolishness.

As a result, people today are afraid of everything—diseases, terrorists, wars, natural disasters. Yet, following in the footsteps of Adam and Eve, they forget to fear the One who holds all life together.

Lady Wisdom teaches us to trust God, reminding us that wisdom is not about knowing everything. It’s about trusting the One who does.

With this encouraging note, I wish you patience in your dissertation writing. Eat well, live humbly, and never refuse to attend IBTS’s–sorry, Lady Wisdom’s–banquet. 

She’s waiting, and her cooking is divine. Thank you!

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