Address given at a Service to mark the opening of the Legal Year in England and Wales

I am delighted to have been asked to give the sermon on this auspicious occasion. I'm honoured to share some words with you today, to mark the start of the legal year, to thank you for the work you do in the various aspects of the legal profession you represent, and to commit to pray for you.

Praying for people is what I do. As a bishop, I pray for a lot of people. That’s kind of my job.

But sometimes, occasionally, people ask if they can pray for me—usually a keen young curate. And having promised to pray for me, they sometimes pause, if they're really keen, and ask: “What can I pray for, for you, bishop?" (Often in the sort of tone of voice that implies they have no idea what a bishop could possibly want in prayer—strange creatures that we are.) When this occasional and rather lovely thing happens, I always give the same answer: wisdom. Please, pray for wisdom.

Wisdom is what I need more than anything. And, if we are honest, wisdom is what our world needs more than anything. We see too many examples of people speaking unwisely, acting unwisely, governing unwisely, leading unwisely. But what is wisdom?

It's not simply knowledge. Knowledge matters, of course. In your professions—in law, in government, in public life—knowledge and understanding are indispensable. Nobody would make it very far in a chambers or a courtroom if they stood up and said, "I don’t know much about the law, but I’ve got heaps of wisdom." No, knowledge is essential. Understanding is important. But wisdom is something different. As the old saying goes: knowledge is knowing that a tomato is a fruit; wisdom is knowing not to put it in a fruit salad.

Wisdom is the ability to take knowledge and understanding and apply them well—in ways that serve truth, justice, peace, and human flourishing. Wisdom is not just knowing the right thing to do in a given situation, although that is part of it. It is the capacity to hold complexity, to live well with ambiguity, and to act with humility, clarity, and conviction in the midst of it. Wisdom is not the easy option. Sometimes it leads to a deep tension when you literally can't please everyone, and you need wisdom to hold the tension and decide what is right in every sense—not only the most obvious.

Given that high bar, we might be relieved to learn that Proverbs tells us that wisdom begins, not with us, but with God. "The Lord gives wisdom; from his mouth come knowledge and understanding." Wisdom is described as a gift, something received rather than grasped or engineered, and when it fills a life, it guards and watches over us. In other words, wisdom is not just an intellectual tool—it is a moral and spiritual compass. In Scripture wisdom is personified, often as female (but on that I make no further comment!). Wisdom cares for us.

James, in our second reading, takes us further. He contrasts two kinds of wisdom: There is the wisdom that is "earthly and unspiritual,” marked by bitter envy and selfish ambition. And there is the wisdom from above, which is "pure, peaceable, gentle, willing to yield, full of mercy and good fruits, without a trace of partiality or hypocrisy.”

This is not simply wisdom as cleverness. This is wisdom as a way of being—a posture of heart. It is wisdom that shapes how we relate to one another, how we make decisions, how we hold authority, how we live together in community, and as society. It is a way of being. It is in the very texture of our living and being together, and deciding.

And yet wisdom is not some ethereal concept, divorced from action. Wisdom is demonstrated, lived out in the decisions we make and the actions we take every day. Wisdom is not mysterious and hidden—it is visible in every ruling, every judgment, every decision, every course of action you and I take. As Gregory the Great said in one of his homilies: "Wisdom is not in words but in deeds; and he truly knows, who lives as he knows.”

And so here, the book of James speaks with a prophetic edge. It reminds us that whenever wisdom is reduced to winning arguments, securing status, or clinging to power, it turns bad and destructive. But when wisdom is exercised in humility, gentleness, and mercy, it bears fruit that lasts.

I find this deeply challenging. Next week I will meet together with the House of Bishops of the Church of England, and I suspect James's words may have something to say to us. But I imagine these words of wisdom also resonate with the challenges of the Bar, of the Bench, of Parliament, and of all those who serve the cause of justice in our nation. Because wisdom is not only about what we know—it is about who we are. It is not only about finding the right answer—it is about discerning the right way. It is not only about interpreting the law—it is about seeking and enacting the spirit of justice that the law exists to protect.

And so, when people ask me what they can pray for, I will continue to say: please pray for wisdom But I also want to pray for you today. For all of you who serve in the law: may God grant you wisdom. Not only the wisdom that comes from years of experience and study, though that is vital. But the wisdom that comes from above: pure, peaceable, gentle, merciful, without partiality, without hypocrisy. May wisdom hold you. Because if our nation's leaders and lawyers, judges and bishops and people, live by that wisdom, then justice will flourish, peace will take root, and deep truth will prevail.

And so that is my prayer today: for me, for you, and for all of us.

For wisdom.

Amen.