The Holy Folly of God’s Love

Voice over by Eliz

2Sam 1:1-4.11-12.19.23-27, Psalm: 79, Mk 3:20-21

Memorial of Saint Francis de Sales, Bishop and Doctor of the Church

My dear Sisters and Brothers in Christ,

The path of true devotion can appear, in the world’s eyes, as a kind of madness. It can seem excessive, unreasonable, even foolish. Today, as we celebrate the great Saint Francis de Sales, the Doctor of Gentleness and Devotion, the Scriptures present us with two stark portraits of such “holy folly”—a love that grieves for an enemy and a zeal that bewilders one’s own family.

In the Second Book of Samuel, we find David in a moment of breathtaking humanity and grace. News arrives of the death of Saul and Jonathan. Saul, who had relentlessly hunted David out of envy, is dead. By worldly logic, David should feel relief, even triumph. His path to the throne is now clear. But David does the unimaginable: he tears his garments, weeps, and fasts. He composes a beautiful, heartbreaking lament: “O mountains of Gilboa, let there be no dew or rain upon you!” He grieves publicly for his persecutor, celebrating Saul’s glory and his own deep love for Jonathan. This is a love that transcends politics and personal injury. To his men, this grief might have seemed excessive, even foolish. But it reveals a heart aligned with God’s own heart—a heart that loves without measure.

This holy “folly” finds its ultimate expression in the Gospel’s startlingly brief passage. Jesus has returned home, surrounded by crowds so pressing He cannot eat. His relatives, hearing of His exhausting ministry, declare, “He is out of his mind.” The Greek implies they said, “He has lost His senses.” The Incarnate God, pouring Himself out in healing and teaching, is deemed a madman by His own loved ones. Why? Because His total self-gift defies all human logic of self-preservation and moderation.

Herein lies the profound connection to Saint Francis de Sales. In an age of religious wars and fierce polemics, he championed a spirituality that seemed foolishly gentle. He insisted that holiness was for everyone—not just monks—and that it was achieved through the “little virtues” of patience, humility, and kindness in daily life. To the worldly, this might seem a tame, even weak, path. But it is the very “folly” of the Gospel: conquering not by force, but by gentle, persistent love.

What does this mean for us? We are called to a devotion that may seem foolish to the world. It is the “folly” of forgiving when we could seek revenge, of giving generously when we could hoard, of praying faithfully when we could be productive, of remaining pure when indulgence is the norm.

When your commitment to marriage, your patience in suffering, your forgiveness of an enemy, or your fidelity to prayer is met with misunderstanding, even by those close to you, remember David weeping for Saul. Remember Jesus, thought to be out of His mind. Remember Francis de Sales, preaching gentle love in a harsh world.

As the saint himself taught, “Be who you are and be that well.” Let us embrace the holy folly of living God’s love authentically, without apology. For in this “madness” lies the path to true wisdom and eternal life. Amen.

May God bless you all!