‘What is foolish to the world, God has chosen; what is weak to the world.

‘God has chosen what the world despises, what the world does not consider important, to thwart what the world considers important, so that no one may boast before God.’ (1 Cor. 1:27-29).
In choosing among these opposites — crazy — smart, weak — strong, noble — unborn, nothing — something — everything speaks of wisdom, strength, nobility, and cherished things. After all, they are God’s gifts. And yet, God does not deny his gifts. However, hidden in wisdom, strength, and grandeur is the danger of appropriating God’s work, or at least taking satisfaction in it and ‘bragging’! This is why God builds on the stone that human builders rejected: on folly, weakness, and that which is unborn. This is not because they are foolish, weak or worthless, but because they are closer to holiness. The work that emerges unmistakably points to God as the author. God’s greatness is independent of man’s. The programme that Paul heralded has been confirmed by figures such as St. Francis of Assisi, St. John Vianney, St. Catherine of Siena, St. Marguerite Marie Alacoque, and St. Teresa of Calcutta. This is evident even in individuals’ personal histories. The greatness of God’s revelations is often associated with bodily suffering, which can lead to feelings of hopelessness and despair. Paul begged the Lord three times to withdraw from him. ‘My grace is enough for you.’ God’s power is revealed precisely through weakness. Extremes converge in our lives: an embarrassing blend of folly and wisdom, weakness and strength, humiliation and grandeur, nothingness and significance. Above all, there is God the Creator, God the Saviour, and God the Sanctifier. So, Lord, what can I offer you? Everything!

Especially my unwisdom and weakness, my poor alternation of moments, so that your signature on the work is clear, and I “can’t show off”! In the church, there is both a genius, Thomas, and an uneducated parish priest, Ar. There are both Lebanese cedars and broken reeds, both dazzling flames and smoking wicks. Does a fractured reed have the right to remain broken forever? It’s easier. Shouldn’t it desire to straighten up? Does the smoking wick have the right to stay a smoking wick forever when it could burn brightly under God’s breath? Lord, I do not ask you to depart from me, but rather that your strength be manifested in my weakness, so that I may praise you!