Wisdom 11:24–26

Wisdom 11:24 — Love as the Ground of Creation "For you love all things that are, and abhor none of the things which you made." The verse opens with a causal conjunction ("for"), anchoring it in the preceding argument of Wisdom 11, where the author has been meditating on how God's punishments are measured and merciful. The logic is decisive: God cannot hate what he has made, because making a thing is itself an act of love. The phrase "all things that are" (πάντα γάρ ἐστίν σου, literally "for all things are yours") carries an implicit theology of existence — to be is already to be loved. The author then states the converse with careful logic: "you never would have formed anything if you hated it." This is not sentiment but ontology. Divine creative will and divine love are not two separate operations; creation is the expression of love. Hatred, in the divine logic of Wisdom, is simply incompatible with the act of making. God does not create reluctantly, neutrally, or accidentally.

Wisdom 11:25 — Continuous Creation and Continuous Love "How would anything have endured unless you had willed it?" The author now moves from the origin of creation to its persistence. This is the doctrine of creatio continua — continuous creation. God does not wind the universe like a clock and step away; every moment of a creature's existence is a renewed act of divine willing. The rhetorical question ("how would anything have endured...?") expects the answer: nothing would. The second question deepens this: "that which was not called by you, how would it have been preserved?" The language of being "called" (κληθέν) echoes the creation narrative of Genesis 1, where God speaks things into being — to be created is to be addressed, named, summoned by God. Preservation, then, is a kind of perpetual re-calling, an ongoing creative word spoken over each creature.

Wisdom 11:26 — Sovereignty, Mercy, and the Love of Souls "But you spare all things, because they are yours, O Sovereign Lord, you who love the living." The conjunction "but" (ἀλλά) introduces the practical consequence: because all things belong to God as creatures of his love, he spares them. The Greek word for "spare" (φείδῃ) connotes restraint, the holding back of power one fully possesses. God's mercy is not weakness but mastery over his own omnipotence. The address "Sovereign Lord" (δέσποτα) — used only rarely in the Septuagint for God — underscores that the one who loves is also the one who reigns absolutely; his love is not sentimental indulgence but sovereign care. The final phrase, "you who love the living" (φιλόψυχος), translates literally as "lover of souls" (psyche = soul/life). This extraordinary epithet names love not as an attribute God occasionally exercises but as a defining characteristic of who God is in relation to living beings — a foreshadowing of the New Testament declaration that "God is love" (1 John 4:8).

Typological and Spiritual Senses Typologically, these verses point forward to the Incarnation: the God who could not hate what he made ultimately became what he made (John 1:14), the supreme demonstration that divine love for creatures is no abstraction. The "calling" of verse 25 anticipates the New Testament theology of vocation — every person is called into existence by name (Isaiah 43:1) and sustained moment to moment by the same Word through whom all things were made (John 1:3). Spiritually, the passage invites contemplation of one's own existence as an act of God's love — not merely that God loves you despite your existence, but that your existence is the first form his love took toward you.

Catholic tradition reads these verses as a cornerstone text for the theology of creation and providence. The Catechism of the Catholic Church teaches that "God creates the world not out of necessity, nor to increase his glory, but out of love alone" (CCC 293), a principle that finds its scriptural heartbeat precisely here in Wisdom 11:24–26.

St. Augustine, meditating on creation in the Confessions, echoes the logic of verse 24 when he writes that God made us "for yourself," and that the created order is perpetually upheld by God's loving attention (Confessions I.1 and De Genesi ad Litteram). He understood the continuous preservation of creatures as a participation in God's own being — creatures do not possess existence independently but hold it on loan from the One who IS (Exodus 3:14).

St. Thomas Aquinas, in the Summa Theologiae (I, Q.44–45), formalizes this into the doctrine of creatio ex nihilo and conservatio (continuous conservation): God is the ever-present cause not only of a thing's coming-to-be but of its remaining-in-being at every instant. Verse 25 is a poetic statement of exactly this Thomistic insight.

The Second Vatican Council's Gaudium et Spes §19 cites the dignity of the human person as rooted in God's love in creation, a dignity that cannot be negated by sin or suffering precisely because it is ontological, not merely moral. Pope Francis, in Laudato Si' §77, explicitly references the tradition flowing from passages like this one: "Each creature has its own purpose. None is superfluous." The Greek φιλόψυχος ("lover of souls") anticipates the Church's consistent defense of every human life — no soul is expendable because no soul exists outside of God's active love. This text is foundational to Catholic bioethics, ecology, and the theology of mercy.

For the contemporary Catholic, these three verses challenge one of the most corrosive spiritual errors of our age: the belief that one's existence is a burden, an accident, or a mistake. Wisdom 11:24–26 declares that before you did anything — before you succeeded or failed, believed or doubted, built up or destroyed — God called you into being as an act of love. Your existence is not neutral raw material; it is already a word of love spoken by God.

Practically, this passage has at least three applications. First, it grounds personal dignity in something no circumstance can touch: not achievement, not virtue, but simply being made and held in existence by a God who cannot hate what he made. In moments of self-loathing or despair, returning to this text is not escapism — it is ontological realism. Second, it reshapes how Catholics treat others: every human being encountered — whether convenient or inconvenient, productive or dependent, friend or enemy — exists because God willed them and calls them moment to moment. Dehumanization becomes metaphysically impossible for the person who has genuinely absorbed verse 24. Third, Laudato Si' invites Catholics to extend this logic to all creation: the non-human world also exists because God wills and loves it. Ecological indifference is a theological failure, not merely an ethical one.