DULCE EST DESIPERE IN LOCO - the sweetness of foolishness

Yes, it is sweet to be foolish at times: to realise that I need to become all things to all so that I can witness the Magister, disregarding my rights and status (1 Corinthians 9, 15-18). By contrast, God chooses what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; He chooses what is weak to shame the strong (1 Corinthians 1,27). This insight strengthens the sweetness of our foolishness because we are instruments in God’s hands.

Some presume that discipleship is a personal initiative rather than a response to the Magister’s call: “to deny oneself and take up the cross” (Mark 8,34). This confused comprehension proves wasteful because it reinforces our ineptness. Pontificating, patronising, moralising, and scapegoating mark this path: afraid to taste the sweetness of being foolish, we identify with those who appear strongest.

It would be mistaken to presume that this desire is not widespread despite claims to be Minorem. Experience teaches that despite the claims and pretensions, the dress and the sandals, a Majorem attitude prevails so that discipleship transforms into stepping-stones to enhance one’s presence.

Discipleship insists on being close to God, because baptism recalls each one of us to sainthood (Pope Francis, Gaudete et Excultate: on the call to holiness in today’s world). The idea that sainthood expresses exclusivity is mistaken: it is far more common, emphasised by Pope John Paul II’s drive to beatify so many unknown faces. The secret to understanding this initiative is that each one is called to do little things with great love, expressive of what it means to be Minorem.

There is, therefore, no room for a condescending attitude that drives people away from the Magister: “Let the little children come to me and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these” (Matthew 19,13), This rebuke invites us to reconsider our understanding of discipleship by seeing things as the Magister sees them but to do so we need to be foolish in our own eyes: to “Trust in the Lord with all your heart and learn not on your own understanding” (Proverbs 3,5). 

This revaluation does not exclude those who reduce the Good News to a moral code reflecting their prejudices. Neither does it exclude those whose personal agendas determine their understanding of discipleship. 

A preacher, who is in a privileged position, must learn to use preaching wisely: not to consolidate barriers by imposing subjective notions of faith, to prayerfully meditate on the teachings of the Magisterium and not interpret them as a means to thrash others but to enhance the value of their presence as brothers and sisters. 

Discipleship asserts our need to focus on ways and means that empower others to smell the Magister through us. There is no room for exclusiveness because we are recalled, as disciples, to use our wounds to let others experience the healing power of the Magister who healed Thomas by letting him touch his wounds (John 20,24-31).

Sometimes, joyfully, it is good to be foolish: to appreciate our being ridiculous by not pretending to be more than we are because we are too concerned with what others may say. Sometimes, like David, we need to dance with all our might before the Lord. Of course, there will always be a Michah looking down, filled with contempt for us (2Samuel 6,14 -22).  

The willingness to look even more foolish than this, even to be humiliated in my own eyes, makes sense when we meditate on the naked corpse hanging on a tree: “For the foolishness of God is wiser than man’s wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than man’s strength” (1Corinthians 1,25). 


Martin 


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