Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, I the fool

I think I have found my calling in life: to be a holy fool.

There is I think a demand for this sort of role, in recent time especially, as often narrowly worldly, often disguised as pragmatic or practical, wisdom is often preferred over the more truthful and divine. The holy fool, at least ideally, acts opposite to this condition, embracing with full force the very traits of the Lord's wisdom that appear foolish to the world or run counter to the world's wisdom.

For example, the holy fool ought enthusiastically love all people, considering them all as friends and even like family, (I'm not claiming my achievement of this, mind you but I'll get into that more later), or at least with that potential. The impression I get from the world at large is that this is an unnecessary indulgence, and a dangerous one at that. That it is acceptable and, indeed healthy, to hate and despise others. Even the potential for friendship is seen as something that must be earned and even then not necessarily allowed. But that attitude is backward to the holy fool, for the former is the way of the Lord, even if it appears foolish to the world.

I wish I could cite this example as one of my actual traits fully developed and perfected, but too often I am dismissive of others, sometimes I fall bitter to bitterness, and very often I hold back a degree of deserved intimacy from even those who I am closest too. So in regards to this open and honest love for all of God's people, no, here I do not measure up to the ideal of the holy fool.

But even great authors write crappy novels, and even great actors stink up the joint. (As Charlton Heston pointed out to Joey, "it's okay to stink, the one thing though that you must remember is NEVER take a shower in my dressing room"). However, the ideal of the great author encompasses a level of practice and craftsmanship that would make a crappy novel impossible, and a great actor ideally would act with such precision and talent that no character would be misplayed. But in reality all but God are fallible, and so even the greatest will admit to only imitating greatness. But in that quest to imitate that ideal, what glory, what grace can be achieved.

So it is with the holy fool. The ideal may only exist in the mind of dreamers and long-dead Russian novelists, but it is still worth chasing. I may not have reached the state of feeling only love and no hate like the holy fool, but I will try, and I will keep trying. For while this is very much a case of aiming for ht heavens, my father taught me that if you aim for the heavens you might at least be able to reach the gates.

Or else you may at least come close enough to grasp the Lord's outstretched hand, though for that one need not leap far, just to jump with hope, love and faith.

So take it to your head, take it to your heart and remember Rand rocks.

Goodnight Folks!