Catholic Commentary
God's Omnipotence and Merciful Restraint
21For to be greatly strong is yours at all times. Who could withstand the might of your arm?22Because the whole world before you is as a grain in a balance, and as a drop of dew that comes down upon the earth in the morning.23But you have mercy on all men, because you have power to do all things, and you overlook the sins of men to the end that they may repent.
Wisdom 11:21–23 contrasts God's infinite, irresistible power with His surprising mercy toward humanity. Though all creation is infinitesimally small before God's might—like a grain on a scale or dewdrop—He deliberately restrains judgment and overlooks sins to allow people opportunity for repentance.
God's omnipotence doesn't make Him indifferent to sin—it makes Him merciful, because His overwhelming power costs Him nothing in restraint.
Wisdom 11:21 — "For to be greatly strong is yours at all times. Who could withstand the might of your arm?"
The rhetorical question that closes verse 21 echoes the great hymns of Israel's military and cosmic theology (cf. Exodus 15:6; Job 9:4). The phrase "might of your arm" (Greek: brachíonos sou ischýs) is deliberately anthropomorphic — a standard biblical idiom for God's saving and judging intervention in history. In the broader context of Wisdom 11, the author has been meditating on the plagues of Egypt, contrasting how the same natural elements that punished Israel's oppressors blessed Israel herself. Verse 21 draws the theological conclusion from that contrast: behind every differentiated act of divine providence stands one infinite, unrestricted power. The word "at all times" (en panti kairō) is significant — this is not occasional or conditional omnipotence, but an eternal, inexhaustible attribute. No creature, no pharaoh, no cosmic force has leverage against it.
Wisdom 11:22 — "The whole world before you is as a grain in a balance, and as a drop of dew that comes down upon the earth in the morning."
This is among the most arresting cosmological images in all of deuterocanonical literature. The author reaches for two images of near-nothingness: a single grain (rhopē) on a balance scale — the tiniest measurable unit of ancient commerce — and a dewdrop, which forms overnight and evaporates almost before it is noticed. Both images communicate not that creation is worthless, but that its magnitude is simply incommensurable with God's. The balance scale image recalls Isaiah 40:15 ("Behold, the nations are as a drop from a bucket"), confirming that Wisdom's author is in conscious dialogue with the great prophetic tradition of divine incomparability. The dewdrop simile adds a note of fragility and transience: the world is not only small before God, it is fleeting. This is the creatio ex nihilo sensibility — the universe exists only because God wills it, at every moment, into being. Crucially, however, this verse does not end in despair. The contrast that follows in verse 23 depends entirely on verse 22's force: it is precisely because creation is so infinitesimal before God that His mercy toward it becomes so staggering.
Wisdom 11:23 — "But you have mercy on all men, because you have power to do all things, and you overlook the sins of men to the end that they may repent."
The adversative "but" (alla) is the hinge of the entire passage. Omnipotence, established in verses 21–22, does not lead to indifference or destruction — it leads to mercy. The logic is theologically precise: God can afford to be merciful because nothing in creation threatens Him. His restraint in the face of human sin costs Him nothing in terms of security or power. He "overlooks" (paroras) sins — a Greek word meaning to look past, to deliberately avert the gaze — not because sin is trivial, but because the goal is metanoia (repentance). This teleological mercy — mercy ordered toward transformation — is the heart of the verse. God's patience is not permissiveness. It is the long patience of a craftsman who has not yet abandoned the work. The universalism of "all men" (pantes) is notable: this is not mercy for Israel alone, but for all humanity, a theme that will reappear in the New Testament (1 Timothy 2:4; 2 Peter 3:9).
The Typological and Spiritual Senses
Typologically, the "overlooking" of sins in verse 23 anticipates the economy of the Incarnation: God's patient restraint across salvation history finds its ultimate reason in the Cross, where the debt of sin is not merely overlooked but absorbed and redeemed. The grain on the balance scale takes on Eucharistic overtones in Christian reading — the grain of wheat that falls to the earth (John 12:24) becomes the bread of life, and the dewdrop recalls the manna that appeared with the morning dew in the wilderness (Exodus 16:13–14), a figure of the Eucharist in patristic exegesis. The spiritual sense invites the reader to locate herself in the dewdrop: small, contingent, dependent — and yet the object of infinite attention.
Catholic tradition illuminates this passage at several deep levels. First, the passage is a scriptural touchstone for the Church's teaching on divine omnipotence and divine simplicity. The Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches that "God's almighty power is in no way arbitrary" (CCC 271) and that His power is always exercised in concert with His wisdom and goodness — precisely the relationship Wisdom 11:21–23 enacts. Omnipotence is not raw force; it is the freedom that enables mercy.
Second, verse 23's phrase "you overlook the sins of men to the end that they may repent" is a foundational text for the Catholic understanding of God's universal salvific will. The Council of Trent, the Second Vatican Council (Gaudium et Spes 22), and the Catechism (CCC 1037) all affirm that God wills the salvation of all — a will expressed not through coercion but through patience and the gift of repentance. Pope Francis, in Amoris Laetitia (296), cites the divine pedagogy of patience as a model for the Church's own pastoral approach.
The Church Fathers drew deeply from this well. St. Augustine (Confessions I.1) echoes the passage's logic: God's greatness is the precondition, not the obstacle, to His intimacy with the soul. St. John Chrysostom commented on the related verse in Romans 2:4, noting that God's forbearance is itself a form of calling — sinners are not destroyed because they are being invited. St. Thomas Aquinas (Summa Theologiae I, q.25, a.3) affirms that omnipotence includes the power to show mercy, and that mercy and justice are not in tension in God but are unified in His essence.
Finally, verse 22's cosmic scale imagery undergirds the Catholic doctrine of creatio ex nihilo — defined at the Fourth Lateran Council (1215) and affirmed in CCC 296–297. The world's radical contingency before God is not a cause for nihilism but for wonder: that so fragile a thing as a dewdrop is held in being by infinite love.
Contemporary Catholics live in a culture that oscillates between two distortions: a God reduced to a permissive therapist who cannot really judge sin, and a God imagined as a cosmic enforcer waiting to punish. Wisdom 11:21–23 corrects both. The God of these verses is genuinely, frighteningly omnipotent — the cosmos is a dewdrop before Him — and yet that very omnipotence is what funds His mercy. He is not lenient because He is weak; He is patient because He is free.
For the Catholic in the confessional, this passage is a direct preparation for an act of contrition. The reason repentance is possible at all is that God has been "looking past" our sins, holding space for our return. This is not license to delay — the dewdrop evaporates — but it is the deepest possible assurance that the door is open. For those accompanying others through sin and its consequences — parents, priests, spiritual directors, teachers — the divine pedagogy of verse 23 offers a concrete model: restraint in judgment, patience in engagement, always ordered toward the other's transformation, never merely toward one's own vindication.