Abstract

Finding Understanding
The fool remains one of our favoured comic figures. We find Steve Carrell’s schtick of misunderstanding endearing, Will Ferrell’s wilful idiocy humorous, and Chevy Chase’s pratfalling hilarious. These ‘fools’ entertain by being foolish, and we can laugh at them. Very occasionally, a figure like Sascha Cohen’s shocking character Borat adopts a more medieval approach to the fool—his foolishness is designed to expose the foolishness of others. When we laugh (if we laugh) we are laughing at other people and how Borat exposes what Cohen thinks is their foolishness.
Fools depicted in the Bible, however, have a different purpose—they don’t permit us to laugh at them. Instead, they are always exhibits of our own foolishness—or, at least, our potential for foolishness. It is as if the fun-house mirror showed, not a grossly distorted, but a strikingly true image of the self. If that were the case, we would avoid it. It would no longer be fun.
It is critical, then, that when we read about the fool in Luke 12:13–21, we do not regard his foolishness safely from our customary comic theatre boxes. His foolishness—his exhibition of the ‘pride of life’—is very much a foolishness to which we are all susceptible. I would like to note three aspects of this foolishness to which Luke draws our attention in the text.
First, there is the foolishness of thinking that our wealth is our own. Jesus says, in verse 16, that ‘The land of a rich man was very productive…’. Note: it’s not the rich man himself that was very productive, nor his employees, but his land—the source of his wealth is, in the scheme of eternity, a thing over which he has very little control at all. And this is the first foolishness: to believe that our wealth is ours, that we have earned everything by ‘pure hard work’, and that no external factors—time, seasons, weather patterns, last year’s crop, and so forth—had any real impact on our income. Any time we believe that we have wealth on our own, we become fools.
Second, there is the foolishness of neglecting to seek God’s will for our wealth. In verse 19, the rich man says, ‘And I will say to my soul, “Soul, you have many goods laid up for many years to come; take your ease, eat, drink, and be merry.”’ Whom does he consult to determine what to do with the blessing for which he didn’t ultimately work? Himself. He speaks to his own soul. He prays, in effect, to himself! But when all our resources are gifts from the Father, then all those resources are subject to His conditions. Surely some of them are to be enjoyed, but some of them equally are to be repurposed for the benefit of others, of the poor, the needy, the Lazaruses ensconced within our doorframes. When we neglect the implicit responsibility of wealth, we become fools.
Third, there is the foolishness of imminent death. In verse 20, Jesus says, ‘But God said to him, “You fool! This very night your soul is required of you; and now who will own what you have prepared?”’ Wealth becomes absurd when we recall the imminence of death. Who will receive it? Who will spend it? Pharaohs build elaborate tombs filled with gold, food, and slaves—was any of it utilized in the 5000 years those material things were locked up? In his 1990 song, Something Happened on the Way to Heaven, Phil Collins reflects on the conflict between money and relationships, singing ‘They say you can’t take it with you when you go, and I believe it.’ In the dynamic of the song, he’d rather have his wife than his money. But how foolish we are to choose portfolios over people, currency over community, our idea of wealth over the God of all wealth! In this way, we become fools when we neglect the equalizing power of death.
In each of these three ways—thinking that our wealth is our own, thinking that we can make decisions apart from God, and forgetting about the imminence of death—the fool in Luke 12 reflects back to us our own foolishness. We aren’t permitted to laugh at him, because he’s us, and when we realize that our laughter must be flavoured with bitter tears.
How do we become un-foolish? How does the funhouse mirror of Luke’s fool point us to wisdom? I want to suggest three paths—two from the Psalms, and one from Colossians.
A first way to become wise is presented to us in the evocative language of Psalm 90:12, ‘So teach us to number our days, that we may present to You a heart of wisdom.’ The first and best recourse to the foolishness of wealth is the memory of death. I will die; you will die; all who possess wealth will die—and then what will happen to our wealth? In the place of hoarding, Christ advises us clearly, in the astonishing parable of the Unjust Steward in Luke 16, ‘And I say to you, make friends for yourselves by means of the wealth of unrighteousness, so that when it fails, they will receive you into the eternal dwellings’ (Lk 16:9). In the light of death, and in view of how temporary wealth is, spend well. Instead of trusting in mammon, use mammon. This way lies wisdom.
A second way to become wise is presented in the magnificent opening lines to Psalm 49: Hear this, all peoples; Give ear, all inhabitants of the world, Both low and high, Rich and poor together. My mouth will speak wisdom, And the meditation of my heart will be understanding.
Subtle, but quite prominent, is the command to ‘hear’. In other words, listen. The understanding person has open ears. He is listening to more than just himself; she is speaking in a conversation that extends beyond her own council. The soul that wants to become less foolish must spend time paying attention to God.
Third, and finally, we must take our eyes off ourselves and attend, instead, to Christ. This is the command of Colossians 3:1–3, where Paul writes, ‘Therefore if you have been raised up with Christ, keep seeking the things above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your mind on things above, not on the things that are on earth. For you have died and your life is hidden with Christ in God.’ This is not a command which requires much explanation—except perhaps in one respect: when our eyes are on ourselves, on our concerns and affairs—when we are limited and circumscribed by the tinyness of our own portfolios—then foolishness is an inevitability. Here is a man staring lovingly at pennies when, if he could only see beyond himself, he would discover that he is surrounded by gold! Here is a woman counting her dollars when, if she will lift her eyes to Christ, may discover that she is swimming in diamonds!
Remember death; listen well; lift your eyes to Christ. In these three ways we can receive the rebuke of Jesus’s fool and begin to amend the hardness of our hearts.
