You should know there's a new slj site! Check it out

Teachability
The irony of wisdom is that those who lack it feel they have enough; and those who have it search for more. "Fools despise wisdom and instruction," says Solomon (verse 7), and "Let the wise also hear and gain in learning" (verse 5). People with wisdom realize how little they know and they are hungry for knowledge. They have a teachability that is rooted in humility. Examples of the opposite abound. Each of us has known someone (often a professor) who was knowledgeable, but who carried that knowledge with arrogance instead of humility. Arrogance will hide behind a curtain, as did the Wizard, and resist being challenged. In contrast, humble teachability makes a person transparent and accessible, able to say "I don't know" and even to seek correction from others.
I am both encouraged and challenged by the idea of wise people receiving correction. First, because they need correction, even wise people must make mistakes. Second, if the wise are not infallible, then my mistakes don't mean I'm devoid of wisdom. I can grow in wisdom if I can be a good student of my mistakes.
While I'm a student of my mistakes, I'm also a teacher. In this capacity I often have students in my class who know more than I do about some aspect of my area of expertise: social causes and public health responses to epidemics of AIDS and other sexually transmitted diseases. I am not a physician, but I teach physicians who know more than I do about the disease process. I am not a microbiologist, but I teach people who know more than I do about the organisms causing these diseases. I am also not a statistician, but I teach people who can run circles around my quantitative skills. Standing in front of a room of experts can be very intimidating. As the one called "teacher" in this situation, I'm challenged to learn by forthrightly admitting what I don't know and owning up to my errors. I must show that, above all, I cherish truth and am willing to discard ideas that have been shown (yes, even by my students) to be in error.
Teachability reflects a particular attitude, but it also entails specific skills. Listening is key among them. One important listening skill is setting aside one's own agenda enough to truly hear what another is saying. Observation, memorization and other study skills are also important. At times, the use of study skills to accumulate facts can seem hollow, futile and inconsistent with wisdom. But accumulation of information (in some instances, even "trivia") can contribute to wisdom. As evidence, consider Solomon who cataloged fine details of nature. "He described plant life, from the cedars of Lebanon to the hyssop that grows out of walls. He also taught about animals and birds, reptiles and fish" (1 Kings 4:33, NIV). In particular circumstances requiring wisdom, particular knowledge is also required. Unaccompanied by wisdom's other attributes, knowledge leads to arrogance, but in the hands of a wise person, knowledge enhances wisdom.

Discernment
Uncritical receptivity to all information leaves one directionless. A teachable person must sort through information and evaluate it, discerning what is of value. "Let the discerning acquire skill" says Proverbs 1:5. Ultimately, discernment means rejecting some information as untrue, inconsistent with one's values, or simply inappropriate. I struggle daily with thoughts about how our government can respond effectively to the AIDS epidemic in a way that is consistent with what I perceive to be biblical principles. Pat answers from Christians and non-Christians alike are a dime a dozen. As I look to a biblical standard, I find myself rejecting many ideas from both of these perspectives. As my thoughts evolve and as I gather new information, I continually pray for discernment.
In addition to rejecting some information and ideas, as discerning people we also need to mine for gold amidst the rubble; to find seeds of truth within messages that may otherwise be offensive to us. We exercise discernment when we ask, "What redeemable insights are buried in this philosophy that I disagree with?" and "What message of value is hiding within this boring lecture?"
Discernment often works best as a communal effort. We need to check our ideas against those of others. Although technologies like e-mail help us communicate with people far away, the exchange of ideas occurs most productively when those conversing are in the same room where they can read each others' faces and listen to each others' voices. Good teaching, I believe, almost always involves lively discussion. However, the classrooms of a secular university, such as those I teach in, seldom provide an opportunity for people to discuss their spiritual insights or questions.
But this role is central to the church. As we cultivate relationships with insightful believers by worshiping, learning and serving with them, we receive valuable insights about ourselves and our thoughts. In the context of meaningful relationships, fellow believers are able to struggle with our ideas and how they pertain to our core beliefs, motivations and particular situations.

Action
In the kingdom of God, insight that does not bear fruit in action accounts for little. According to Proverbs 1:3, the goals of wisdom are "wise dealing, righteousness, justice and equity." There is no such thing as armchair wisdom that stops at discernment. Wisdom carries weight when it is translated into an action that affects lives.

Two skills are key in translating insights into action: discipline and discretion. I think of discipline as the acquired skill of getting our behaviors to follow our intentions in the face of adversity. For example, it takes discipline to admit a mistake when we know it will reveal that we are not completely adequate. It also takes discipline to persist in developing a particular leadership skill that does not come naturally.
Discretion is creative action that seeks to maximize good outcomes. As discernment is a filter for what we take in, discretion is a filter for acting things out. We practice discretion, for example, when we hold our tongue because the person we are talking to does not have "ears to hear," or is unprepared for the insight. Discretion is also critical in determining the activities we pursue day to day. We need to balance our academic and professional pursuits with responsibilities to friends and family, involvement in a group of believers, and attention to our own health. Discernment helps us determine our priorities while discretion helps us live them out by choosing what to do now, what to do later, whom to disappoint, what to do only a little of, and what to jettison altogether.

Fear of the Lord
The Bible is not the only book to describe wisdom: such books are commonplace in today's bookstores. Nor were God's covenant people the only ones in their day to value wisdom. For example, the "wise men" who visited the infant Jesus came from the East, probably Persia, and were also described as astrologers, or Magi. They paid homage to the future king of Israel, yet they did not appear to be worshipers of Israel's God. Also, in Paul's first letter to the believers at Corinth, the apostle identified two types of wisdom, contrasting the wisdom of God with the wisdom of the world (1:18-25).
In Proverbs 1:7 we see that godly wisdom is distinct from other types of wisdom because it is founded on "the fear of the Lord." This hardly sounds like a distinction to boast about. What of any lasting value can be built on fear? We might find this phrase more palatable if it really meant respect or reverence for the Lord rather than fear. But fear is truly intended here. It is the fear that the nation of Israel felt when God first delivered his law speaking directly to them instead of to Moses alone (Ex 20:18-21). It is the fear that led Peter to plead "Go away from me, Lord, for I am a sinful man!" (Luke 5:8) This is a fear that results from an overwhelming awareness of God's purity and power; an awareness that we are impostors in his holy presence and worthy only of annihilation. Only when we know also of his grace, love, and mercy do we not bolt from his presence. Our fear is then transformed into worship.
Fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom because it is the foundation for humility and teachability. It is also the end, or goal, of wisdom because the actions of godly wisdom seek to glorify God in worship. The fear of the Lord, then, speaks all at once of the foundation, beginning and end of godly wisdom.

Return to Oz
How does the Wizard of Oz measure up to this account of wisdom? Although appearing first as the image of an arrogant tyrant, and then in reality as an insecure fool (once ousted from his charade), he received with humility the scorn and correction of the foursome (demonstrating teachability). Having heard their story and their individual desires, he saw that the Tin Man, Lion, and Scarecrow did not recognize their own gifts (demonstrating discernment). Using symbols of their gifts he found a creative way to help them see themselves more accurately (translating his insights into action). But did the Wizard have the fear of the Lord? Because this is a Hollywood portrayal of a secular book, it would be tempting to assume that he did not. Strictly speaking, however, this is not spelled out for us. The Wizard of Oz did not use explicit Christian language, but how often do we, in our daily exercise of wisdom (particularly in secular settings), verbalize a godly motivation? Most often that motivation does its work quietly within our heart. And so, in measuring the wisdom of the Wizard, we are left with some ambiguity and the need to exercise discernment.

Knowledge isn't enough
As a professor or as a student, it's good to know that godly wisdom is not inconsistent with knowledge, but neither is it synonymous with it. Wisdom is not compatible with independence and feigned competence. Wisdom is a call to struggle with the ambiguities and subtleties of life in a way that is worshipful to God, and in doing this it compels us to lean upon each other. This is a pursuit that is more than academic; it is a worthy goal to which we can dedicate our lives.