Foolish Wisdom (Lent 5)

Mark 14: 3-9

Roger Lynn

March 18, 2018

5th Sunday in Lent

(click here for the audio for this sermon)

(click here for the video for the entire worship service - the sermon begins at 18:57)

In a couple of weeks we have a rare and wonderful opportunity. Easter will be on April Fools Day. The last time that happened was the year I was born. I’ve often thought that the first day of April should be a religious holiday and this year it will happen. April Fools Day lifts up a virtue which is central to the Christian faith, although we don’t really like to think about this particular aspect of our faith. Being foolish, or even worse, looking foolish, is something we usually try to avoid. But perhaps it is worth re-visiting the merits of such a calling. In writing to the Church at Corinth, Paul advised them to become “fools for Christ.” An odd sort of recommendation at first glance. But very understandable upon closer examination. Since God’s ways are not our ways, following God will sometimes mean running against the flow of what our culture thinks is normal or even acceptable. From our perspective, and certainly from the perspective of the world in which we live, faith can often seem foolish. Jesus talks about turning the other cheek and walking the extra mile and loving our enemies. Scripture is filled with recommendations that we give ourselves away in caring for the last, the lost and the least among us. It is, to paraphrase an old saying, a foolish way to run a railroad. And yet, it is a core value for our faith.

On the subject of looking foolish as a spiritual virtue, Edward Hays has this to say, “While we enjoy telling jokes and being amateur comedians, we don’t enjoy being the joke. Yet until we do, can we truly be ‘fools for Christ,’ as St. Paul invited us to be? We are usually cautious and calculating disciples of the Lord of Fools, disciples who detest losing our respectability and dropping our guard.” He goes on to suggest that the humility which comes with being so foolish is a virtue worth pursuing. “We can ... begin to take ourselves and what we say and do more lightly. We can recall the wisdom of Jesus that the gates of heaven are like those of a playground; they open only to children.” (Edward Hays, A Pilgrim’s Almanac)

It is, at least in part, about taking the risk of being out of control. We don’t like to look foolish because such occasions represent weakness. We failed to remain in control. We were less than perfect. We messed up. And it often confirms our fears that we are not respected by those around us. From earliest childhood many of us draw on the approval of others as a significant source for our self-worth. So looking foolish is not something to be taken lightly. Many of us have learned how to give the appearance of being casual in such situations. I remember once in college slipping and falling down in the grass right in front of some other students. I jumped right back up and acted as if it were no big deal. But inside I was dying. Looking foolish cuts dangerously close to the heart.

And yet, there is Paul telling the Corinthians to be “fools for Christ.” Somehow he understood that it is when we risk losing our respectability and being caught out of control that we open ourselves to the possibility of discovering something deep and profound and meaningful in life. How can we hope to connect with God if we spend all of our energy staying safe and in control? How can we hope to connect with each other if we always hold ourselves slightly in reserve lest we be caught being foolish? Our God is outlandish and outrageous and unpredictable. This is the God for whom Isaiah spoke when he said, “I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert.” (Isaiah 43:19) The wilderness is not where sensible people try to find a way and only the foolish look in the desert for rivers. To do so is to risk becoming lost and perhaps even dying. God can’t possibly want us to be that foolish, we say. I don’t know – let’s ask Jesus, who invites us to follow him as he chooses the path which leads him ultimately to the cross. Faith is risky business and there are those in the world who will tell you it is a foolish business which is best avoided at all costs. 

But I am here to tell you that I believe it is worth the risk and when we dare to be foolish we begin to discover a whole new dimension of freedom and meaning. When we can “let down our guard” as Edward Hays puts it, we give both God and other people an opportunity to touch the deep places in our lives. When I stop worrying about how stupid someone else might think I’m being, I suddenly discover the freedom to try things that might not work. And, indeed, sometimes they don’t. But sometimes they do. And when they do my life is enriched in ways I could never have imagined. Whenever I stand up here in this pulpit I am taking a risk. Who in the world do I think I am, that I might have something to say that is worth you listening to? I have been known to get tongue tied and I have been known to forget things. In short, I stand a good chance of looking foolish. But by taking the risk to be here with you in this way, I also open myself to the powerful experience of being touched by the very Spirit of God and the equally profound experience of sharing in your lives. I’ll take the risk. One of the things I used to do when I was at camp is to lead a very silly song called “Boom-Chick-A-Boom.” In all of the years that I did it the only way I knew how to do that particular song was full-out, no-holds-barred. It is not a matter of risking looking foolish. I can absolutely guarantee you that I looked foolish. If you don’t believe me, I have a picture in my office to prove it. And that is the point. It was, at least in part, why I did it. I use to joke with people that it was a very spiritual experience for me, except that it wasn’t really a joke. It was one of the ways in which I both experienced and modeled for others the power of letting go. When we can risk being so open with each other that we expose even our foolishness, we make room for deep and meaningful connections. It is when we are out of control that we are most likely to be touched and transformed – by God and by those around us. 

And, of course, as we learn to risk following God we find ourselves being led deeper and deeper into the land of foolishness. We find models such as the Good Samaritan being lifted up as appropriate ways of approaching life. We find extravagant behavior like the woman anointing Jesus with expensive perfume being defended as virtuous. We move through the season of Lent towards a day we call “Good” Friday, when we commemorate Jesus’ death on a cross. If we try to make sense of all this using modern cost to benefit analysis we will find ourselves agreeing with those who call it foolishness.

But there is wisdom here. It cannot be seen from the outside. It can only be experienced. Good Friday is only foolish for those who won’t risk waiting for Easter. The Good Samaritan is only foolish for those who won’t risk taking the chance. The woman with the perfume is only foolish for those who won’t risk letting down their guard enough to be head-over-heels extravagantly in love with God. Following God is only foolish for those who won’t risk being foolish. Take the risk. This Easter I invited you to celebrate April Fools Day as a Holy Day. Be a fool for Christ.