That feeling isn't new. It's been with us for millennia. And it shines through in the ancient wisdom of Ben Sira.

This passage from Ben Sira 51 isn't just about acquiring knowledge; it's about a passionate, lifelong love affair with wisdom. Imagine a young person, full of energy, actively seeking wisdom, almost chasing after it. "I was a youth; And I delighted in her, and sought her." Doesn't that just paint a picture? The pursuit isn't a chore; it’s a delight.

And this pursuit isn't aimless. "My foot trod in her truth." There’s a sense of purpose, of walking a path guided by truth. From a young age, the speaker has learned wisdom. There's something beautiful in that continuity, in the idea that wisdom isn’t just something we acquire later in life, but something we can cultivate from our earliest years. "O my Lord, from my youth I learned wisdom."

This isn't a solitary journey either. He actively prays, seeking knowledge, and it is given abundantly. "And I prayed a prayer in my youth; And I found knowledge abundantly." There's a recognition that wisdom isn't just earned through effort but also received as a gift. It's a conversation, a give and take.

The passage takes on a deeper layer when it talks about a "yoke." "Her yoke (?) was a glory to me; And to my teacher will I give thanks." Now, a yoke usually implies burden, right? But here, it's a glory. It suggests that the discipline, the effort required to learn, is actually a source of pride and honor. It also highlights the importance of teachers – those who guide us on this path.

There's an unwavering commitment here. "My soul longed for her; And I would not turn my face from her. I gave my soul after her; And for ever and ever I will not swerve…" This isn't a casual interest; it's a deep, abiding dedication. Wisdom isn't something you dabble in; it’s something you commit your whole self to.

The final lines are particularly evocative: "My hand opened her gates; And I looked for her (?), and beheld her (S); And in pureness I found her. And I gat me (?) understanding from her beginning; Therefore........" It's like the speaker has finally reached the inner sanctum, found the source of wisdom in its purest form. There's a sense of discovery, of unveiling something hidden. The passage unfortunately ends abruptly, leaving us yearning for what comes next, after this profound encounter.

What does it mean to "open her gates"? What does it mean to find wisdom "in pureness"? These are the questions that linger. Perhaps it suggests that true wisdom requires a pure heart, an open mind, and a willingness to delve deep. It's a call to approach learning with humility and reverence, understanding that the journey itself is as important as the destination.

So, what's your relationship with wisdom? Are you actively seeking it, delighting in the pursuit? Are you willing to commit to the lifelong journey, to embrace the "yoke" with a sense of glory? Maybe Ben Sira's words can inspire us to reconnect with that youthful passion for learning and understanding, to open the gates and behold the wisdom that awaits us.