Today we greet St Benedict-Joseph Labre, the 18th-century vagrant whom we celebrate as the first saint of this Paschal season. After trying out both the Trappist and the Carthusian way of life, he was led by an extreme sacrificial grace to squander his life with and for Christ on the roads of France and Italy. He appears as the very embodiment of St Paul’s affirmation that the folly of God is wiser than [the wisdom of] men (1 Cor 1:25).
Now, if Benedict-Joseph could joyfully become a “fool for Christ” this was only because of his conviction that, for our sake, Christ had first become a “fool for God”. It is Christ who sets for all time the redeeming pattern of divine madness through his life of freely embraced humiliation, suffering, and an ignominious death. It takes a faith like St Paul’s to recognize in this disruptive pattern the uttermost revelation of God’s folly of love for humankind.
Benedict-Joseph’s life of freely chosen poverty and itinerancy witnessed to Jesus’ own self-emptying in order to give us new and everlasting life. The Christian must give all in order to gain all, both for himself and for the world. Like the Son of Man, Benedict-Joseph “had nowhere to lay his head” in this world (Mt 8:20) because his head’s only destination was the blissful lap of the Father, and he would accept no substitutes.
This puzzling saint upsets all our categories of classification, by which we normally seek to make rational sense even out of the deepest mysteries of faith. It is not surprising that he is the patron saint of both the homeless and the mentally challenged. He subverts all our categories of “normalcy”, not intentionally but by his mere existence in uncompromising conformity with Christ. No ready formulary for his feast exists in the present Roman Missal, and one must scramble around for what prayers to use from the Common of the Saints. For us monks he is a supreme reminder and warning that all our monastic regularity and minute observances ought never to become their own end. They will surely become obstacles to our union with Christ if we allow a well-ordered monastic routine to extinguish the unruly fire of the Spirit’s divine folly within us.
Let us, then, now repent of all our attempts to domesticate God and his creative foolishness in our lives, as we strive to allow God’s grace to have its unpredictable way with us.