Shame the Wise

A Fool's Short History

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Knox Bridger was first to call me fool. I remember smelling wet grass after he grabbed my brown paper bag and shoved me to the ground, his screechy fifth-grade voice demanding, “Gimme that, stupid fool!” Looking up—from a vantage point not unlike my present one—I saw torn jeans and caught the reek of matted curls. He needed that lunch more than I did.

My college roommate would call me fool, too, every time I rolled my window down for that man with the sign. “You’re a fool to give them money! They only drink it away.” But I had to believe my ten bucks would meet a real need. Lack turns humans into animals. So, what’s missing for these agents... ?

“Fool!” was also the last thing Andie said to me. She finally had enough of my evenings on the phone with strangers. I don’t blame her. I just wish she had understood how being present for the lonely ones who stare into the abyss holds more significance than sitting with me in the dark, staring for hours at a screen. If she were here now, she would understand...

~

My leg—the one under his boot—is completely numb. Crimson tributaries carve paths horizontally across my brow. I could vomit... that baton to my brain? The ringing is deafening, but the masked men are louder, “Stay down, fool! Stop moving!” The woman I had asked them to release still sobs, reaching out her cuffed hands to a runny-nosed boy just feet away.

Was I a fool to intervene? What is wisdom anyway? And why am I parsing philosophy when I can’t even breathe? Another unsolicited thought appears; an ancient saying, repeating, even as my consciousness fades: “…the foolish things of this world—will shame the wise…”

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AFTERWORD

I was challenged to write some micro-fiction (less than 300 words) with the theme being “The Fool.” Daunted by the task of telling an extremely concise—yet still potentially interesting—story, I set out with vague thoughts on April Fool’s Day rolling around my head.

Where I ended up, through no real intention, was with some words from the New Testament that sum up the “upside-down” (or we might say “foolish”) Kingdom of Jesus.

²⁶ Brothers and sisters, think of what you were when you were called. Not many of you were wise by human standards; not many were influential; not many were of noble birth. ²⁷ But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong. ²⁸ God chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things—and the things that are not—to nullify the things that are, ²⁹ so that no one may boast before him. ³⁰ It is because of him that you are in Christ Jesus, who has become for us wisdom from God—that is, our righteousness, holiness and redemption. (I Corinthians 1:26-30)

I hadn’t set out to write a Good Friday meditation, but in fact, this first chapter of 1 Corinthians puts the crucifixion at the center of Christian theology. The cross itself is described as “foolishness to those who are perishing,” but to those who are being saved, it is called “the power [and wisdom] of God.” What could be more upside-down than the death of God?!

My theology of the cross doesn’t look much like it did when I was younger. But even if I don’t agree with an orthodox view on the nature and mechanism of God’s salvation, it’s not difficult for me to embrace the idea that what appears wise in our world is actually foolish, from an eternal perspective.

And sometimes, those whom we label as “fools,” are the only ones who really understand what’s actually going on. Fools, like the one in my story, are often the real heroes of the Human Story. In this respect, Jesus, for his cross, is rightly to be labeled: “King of Fools.”