Sunday, March 03, 2013

The Inexhaustible Nature of Grace


                                        The Inexhaustible Nature of Grace

 

 

I have seen them on the streets, come to know them in the coffee shop and the alleyway, befriended many and have found friends in the most unlikely of places. Who are these strange creatures that defy the conventions of logic by treating of their lives as an open book.

 

Quite frankly, they are the insane or at the least, those less sane than us. Therein lies the misnomer and I am just as guilty in calling them such. For they are not insane but rather touched with an insufferable flame that could not be quenched. Here I beg to quote from Socrates in his speech on divine madness in the Phaedrus: “Madness, provided it comes as the gift of heaven, is the channel by which we receive the greatest blessings…madness comes from God, whereas sober sense is merely human.” Note that he says, provided it comes from heaven. That little caveat explains most of the issues we have with the state of one’s mental health. Yet, whether self -induced or a direct command, they still struggle with Herculean strength to understand what most of us take for granted- common sense.

 

 

Sober sense is then the opposite of creative madness, and madness becomes the better part of the human reason to propel forward the art of manhood. At least, that’s how I would read Socrates. I’m sure you disagree but suffice it to say that if you do, you are quite normal. The problem is, they are not.

 

So we have two camps encircling each other, those sober in mind body and spirit, and those who lack the very elements of any of the three. Ah. Here it is then. And stumbled upon like it is makes it so much more a revelation than had we discovered it within a normal process like logic.

 

Love. Love stumbles across things and love makes no mistakes whatsoever. Love cannot err, only humans do that when they falsely accuse love of leading them to that which it is they want instead of what love asks of them. By controlling situations and deeming ourselves as oh so necessary, we damn love and reduce it to our own petty needs.

 

Not so the ill. To them, common sense is to give the story as a message to those who have, how much they are living without. It is to propel them into the Divine Madness of which Socrates speaks and to allow them to convince you that all is not what it seems. It is to give us the chance to rise up and receive the gift that is them, and in return to receive the gift of grace from the Father. It is in the end, the gift of faith, in the end, they are the gift. The gift upon which our rational minds can work to provide that which they need.

 

 

So then, a cup of coffee and fifteen minutes of your time marks the beginning of a new adventure for those of us that suffer from common sense. I pray that we all discover madness in all its forms. For those that suffer not will, should ever the need arise, ever suffer to help another in need of something so profound as common sense.

 

And that is the nature of our being.

 

 

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