Now Jeremiah wasn’t cool, they all said Jeremiah was a fool. And Ezekiel wasn’t cool, they all said Ezekiel was a fool. And Isaiah wasn’t cool, they all said Isaiah was a fool. And Jesus wasn’t cool, they all said Jesus was a fool. And if Jesus wasn’t cool, and if Jesus was a fool, then I don’t want to be cool.
(Razor Light, Waterdeep)
You know the drill. If you could have dinner with one person, dead or alive, blah blah blah. For me, it’s always been an easy choice. I would love to dine with St. Francis of Assisi. He is my spiritual hero. And I don’t think it would take much to prepare the dinner, either. Perhaps some bread, a little wine. Nothing more.
Many consider Francis the most Christlike person since, well, Christ. There are many myths about Francis, such as him talking a wolf out of eating the sheep in a nearby village. Or the quote mistakenly attributed to Francis: “Preach the Gospel at all times. When necessary, use words.” Francis certainly used words when he preached the Gospel. But before he could speak, he had to gather a crowd.
His usual method was to enter a village and find the town square where he would begin to ring a cowbell and dance around like a wild man. Once he had attracted a crowd, Francis would teach about Jesus, about the joys of following Jesus in poverty and simplicity. Most people considered Francis at worst a mad man, and at best a simpleton. He was called by many a fool—a word that Francis liked. “God’s fool,” he said. “I welcome being called God’s fool.”









