The Company of Middling Folk

The Company of Middling Folk

(“Be not overly righteous, and do not make yourself too wise. Why should you destroy yourself?” Ecclesiastes 7:16)

Did they remember your name those days after
you told of all your conquests and had knocked out those
demons and unclean spirits with merely a word?
Did they pay attention to you when you outlined the
hours of prayer you spent over the weekend and all the
food you refused to eat while everyone else was dining?
Did you think you were dying to exhibit that your best pal was god,
and that everyone knew you to be one righteous brother?
Did you run a popup prayer room where your power petitions
buried everyone’s nose in your pious practices? Did you think
that would raise your esteem among the ladies and gentlemen who
never encountered someone of your holy fame?

And those sayings of yours, those pithy sentences that sounded
convoluted but you said were so simple a child could understand them.
You told parables, but they wound around themselves like condiments
hid in the back of the refrigerator. You pronounced stories you insisted
were heavenly blue, heavenly true. Only a few wondered about their
origin, and among them one or two who considered they were lifted from
someone else’s anthology of folk wisdom.

I’d prefer the company of middling folk who know a joke and tell it
knowing we have heard it before. I prefer the camaraderie of men and women
who carry food so quietly that no one in the neighborhood hears them
ring the bell at the old widow’s door. And they don’t stay for long,
just enough to make sure she doesn’t need anything more. I prefer
the company of people who never outline their acts for the big wigs
to hear. They may go to coffee after their excursions but never brag
about their respectability.

When we boasted to each other of our exploits, we found our appetite
for goodness had taken a dive. When we pontificated about words of
wisdom
loudly in the ruckus room, they turned their backs to us and left us
standing alone. We learned the lesson quickly. We learned the ways of
kindness without announcing it to the world. And we were far more
satisfied, our righteousness and wisdom, quietly showing up the next
time someone needed them. And quietly we would respond, do what
we could do, and apologize there was not more.