4 min. read
In our US American culture, we generally label someone highly educated as “wise.” If so, then I’m one of the supposed wise, and my perceived wisdom is also broad.
I hold two degrees and am working on my third. These three degrees span vastly different, yet uniquely interrelated content (BA in English Literature and Theatre Arts; MA in Theology; PhD in Humanities with a Philosophy concentration).
But I wonder if understanding a broad range of content should really amount to wisdom.
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Within the trajectory of the humanities, wisdom has more to do with an inner cultivation and control. In the 12th century, Hugh of St. Victor channels notions of the ancient Greeks and Romans when he writes, “Do not hurry too much, therefore; in this way you will come more quickly to wisdom.” This rekindling of classic thinkers like Plato, Aristotle and Cicero blazed to a fury through the late middle ages and Renaissance, continuing to this day.
To be wise and to realize wisdom surely takes time. This type of wisdom comes from many streams. But we must make the effort to trek to the water and, once at the riverside, spend significant time on its banks, occasionally even wading out into the deeper pools.
This is the journey I’ve been on for many years, and it has recently taken a more focused turn now that I’m free from many institutional restraints.
Ah, the institution.
You see, I’ve also been considered a fool, more than once, by not a few elites in certain institutional circles.
How can this be? How can one be wise and also a fool?
The Wise Fool
I’ll reach another 12 centuries before Hugh of St. Victor, to another text from a dude who was called both wise and a fool.
Paul, whose birth name was Saul, wrote a couple of letters that shed some light on this conundrum.
I love Paul’s letters to the community of Jesus followers in Corinth. They are raw, honest, and bold letters. I’m amazed that he included in those writings some of the things he did.
Paul must have known that his audience in Corinth would be reading these letters thinking, “Paul is a complete idiot,” or “He doesn’t grow the church the way Apollos does,” or “Paul is weird,” or “Paul sure seems stuck on himself and his way of following Jesus,” or “Paul has no respect for organizational norms,” or even “Paul just doesn’t understand what it’s like to live in Corinth,” and so on.
We can infer from Paul’s second letter that the Corinthian folks replied to his first letter, causing him to write another. It seems the letter he received in reply contained some serious allegations. It’s likely they actually called him a fool.
Paul, who excelled in his rabbinic school. Paul, who not only had the Torah memorized, but could explicate its most mysterious passages. Paul, whose wisdom was at one point inspiring to those folks Corinth, so much so that they were a growing community based on his teachings.
Yeah, they called him foolish.
I’m a Fool, Too
If Paul’s a fool, then I’m a fool, too.
Even the religious elite in his own movement — like Peter and the Council at Jerusalem — looked down on Paul. Not to mention his former tribe — the Jewish leaders! I have identified with Paul’s missionary plight many times throughout my previous years as a pastor. Sometimes, I wish I didn’t.
In the face of opposition from every side, and even from those who should be supporting him, Paul writes:
But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong.
– 1 Corinthians 1:27
Maybe this is because authentic wisdom presents itself differently than expected. Wisdom doesn’t look like what the power brokers of the institution wish it looked like. Maybe wisdom is not about the number of earned (or honorary) degrees, but about wading in the waters of all that has come before us.
Wisdom doesn’t look like what the power brokers of the institution wish it looked like.
It’s frustrating to be considered foolish. It’s frustrating to have “the system” breathing down your neck because leaders have aligned themselves more closely with the cultures of this individualistic, business-driven world than they have the authentic person Jesus of Nazareth.
Part of me wants to see the “shaming of the strong.” Lord, have mercy.
The Gift of Foolish Wisdom
What I’ve described means that complex understandings of wisdom and foolishness might not be simple opposites. It seems a binary falsification to try to peg others, or yourself, as only one or the other.
To be considered both wise and foolish in this way really amounts to a gift. I’m finally, stubbornly learning that.
We cannot manufacture this type of wisdom. It comes to us as a gift, only after intense cultivation. And then only in pieces.
The powerful will often call us fools. That’s fine, because we know the gift. Sometimes the “many” will also dismiss us as foolish. That’s fine, too, because the majority regularly ends up on the wrong side of history. Just ask Plato and Socrates. Just ask Paul. Just ask Hugh of St. Victor.
So I’ll accept the gift of this wisdom while clinging to foolishness.