Continuing to read the biography on Giordano Bruno, I came across the chapter on the Holy Ass, or as it was also called, the picaro. The latter term was not new to me - I had heard of it often in Venezuela, and was often its victim. To me, one who had some stuff and money, it was not a holy thing at all: it meant rather theft and trouble. On the streets of Caracas, one sees people selling things literally spread on the street, the "shop" being nothing more than a grungy blanket on which to display the wares, as often as not such small and uninteresting items as toothpaste and deodorant, at cut-rate prices. It did not take me long to figure out where these cheap items came from, for often I would be unable to find my toothpaste or deodorant after spending a few days in a hotel. At first, I thought I had merely displaced them; but the items on the blankets finally led to the correct conclusion: the maids were stealing small items from the clients to sell at small prices to these street vendor "fences." Although the value was small, multiply what I lost by several score a day and then add that to the salary of these maids. It was a classic case of "spreading the wealth," and in many ways, the Venezuelans understood this as such; why, we who could afford a hotel could certainly afford a tube of toothpaste now and then! And so the "picaro" was often seen as a Robbin Hood, delivering justice from behind the scenes, although on a foolish - even asinine - scale.
It was not always so benign. When my future wife and I were robbed at knife point, I did not laugh. That I was refused phone service by the cheap hotel I was staying at to call the police was another slap - better, said the owner, to lose your watch and passport than have the police come. That meant only trouble, bigger trouble than thieves carrying knives. That was the flip-side to picardia, that everything was corrupted from top to bottom. And so it remains in Venezuela and is its biggest plague.
But the comic image of the picaro remains, and we find that in Renaissance Italy, it extended to the realm of the holy. Bruno himself was well taken with the image, and wrote a satirical, yet serious piece, on the Holy Ass. One city, he notes, claimed to have the petrified tail of the donkey that Jesus rode on as he entered Jerusalem, celebrated by Christians as Palm Sunday. On this date, it was paraded through the village, with the ecclesiastical admonition that the relic should not be merely touched, but kissed - that is, that one should kiss the ass of an ass. A soft ball to comedians if I ever saw one.
But it has its serious side. There is a song popular in the Spanish Caribbean that goes, "La Vida es una Tum-tum-tumbalo," or "Life is a roulette wheel" its ups and downs not subject to our efforts, but rather to the movement of the heavens and ultimately, God. The Holy Ass, then, is not only a thief at times and jester at others, but a subject of the will of God, no more in control of his life than an ass. Whatever efforts he makes to improve himself financially are always foiled by divine fate. It was held, by extension, that we are all Asses in our way - that he best laid plans of men are still only those of mice. We are all fools, fools because we believe we can beat Life's casino, when the odds are always and forever against us. Life, instead, will ultimately and always win.
It is this that Thomas Merton and scores of holy men and saints before him alluded to when speaking of the "self", or in modern parlance, the "ego." Behaviorist psychologists would do well to study them. It is the notion that we are not free as long as we are trapped in our small cocoon of self - that instead, we are controlled by our emotions and desires and social norms rather than a will we believe to be free, just as the animals are led in their own behavior. Free will, then, is a chimera to the typical self, who only is a play thing for the cosmic roulette wheel. Rather, real free will is the effort to move beyond the small self, to become, as it is often put, a true human; that is, to share, as humans are able, in the mind of God. When our will is thus willed to be the instrument of God, it is then and only then that we cease to be the fool, for we then know from where our destiny arises.
But wait! And here is the beauty of the metaphor, and a glimpse into the Medieval scholastic mind: who is the biggest fool? For society, it is the holy man, who lives in poverty and self-abnegation. The picaro is a fool as well, trying to rise above his station, only to be brought down through the cosmic wheel. The aristocrat, however, is above this fray, for his station is always high. But is it? As we are all on the wheel, those who are stationed highest in life are the greatest fools, for they think they are above the fray - only to fall into judgment like everyone else. The picaro knows at least that he is on the fringe, and is not surprised when fate brings him down again. He is aware of the wheel. And the holy man? He knows the wheel and is able to rise above it - not he cycle of life and death, but the cycle of accumulation, of ego satisfaction which will always end in failure on judgement day.
So it is that Jesus rode an ass, and that he chose unlettered "asses" as his disciples. The holy ass is indeed more capable of the holy - of rising to meet the wheel - than the great men. To be simple like a child is to be a fool - but also to be open to the will of heaven.
And so Bruno laughed at the monks and lay faithful kissing the ass of the ass, but praised them as well. It is a delicious twist for those of a certain kind of mind - and it holds some truth. The picaro, the holy ass, wheels closer to the holy man than the great powers that be. They are fools, but closer to enlightenment than those who disdain them. Still, I would like that watch and passport back. Call me a fool. FK
It was not always so benign. When my future wife and I were robbed at knife point, I did not laugh. That I was refused phone service by the cheap hotel I was staying at to call the police was another slap - better, said the owner, to lose your watch and passport than have the police come. That meant only trouble, bigger trouble than thieves carrying knives. That was the flip-side to picardia, that everything was corrupted from top to bottom. And so it remains in Venezuela and is its biggest plague.
But the comic image of the picaro remains, and we find that in Renaissance Italy, it extended to the realm of the holy. Bruno himself was well taken with the image, and wrote a satirical, yet serious piece, on the Holy Ass. One city, he notes, claimed to have the petrified tail of the donkey that Jesus rode on as he entered Jerusalem, celebrated by Christians as Palm Sunday. On this date, it was paraded through the village, with the ecclesiastical admonition that the relic should not be merely touched, but kissed - that is, that one should kiss the ass of an ass. A soft ball to comedians if I ever saw one.
But it has its serious side. There is a song popular in the Spanish Caribbean that goes, "La Vida es una Tum-tum-tumbalo," or "Life is a roulette wheel" its ups and downs not subject to our efforts, but rather to the movement of the heavens and ultimately, God. The Holy Ass, then, is not only a thief at times and jester at others, but a subject of the will of God, no more in control of his life than an ass. Whatever efforts he makes to improve himself financially are always foiled by divine fate. It was held, by extension, that we are all Asses in our way - that he best laid plans of men are still only those of mice. We are all fools, fools because we believe we can beat Life's casino, when the odds are always and forever against us. Life, instead, will ultimately and always win.
It is this that Thomas Merton and scores of holy men and saints before him alluded to when speaking of the "self", or in modern parlance, the "ego." Behaviorist psychologists would do well to study them. It is the notion that we are not free as long as we are trapped in our small cocoon of self - that instead, we are controlled by our emotions and desires and social norms rather than a will we believe to be free, just as the animals are led in their own behavior. Free will, then, is a chimera to the typical self, who only is a play thing for the cosmic roulette wheel. Rather, real free will is the effort to move beyond the small self, to become, as it is often put, a true human; that is, to share, as humans are able, in the mind of God. When our will is thus willed to be the instrument of God, it is then and only then that we cease to be the fool, for we then know from where our destiny arises.
But wait! And here is the beauty of the metaphor, and a glimpse into the Medieval scholastic mind: who is the biggest fool? For society, it is the holy man, who lives in poverty and self-abnegation. The picaro is a fool as well, trying to rise above his station, only to be brought down through the cosmic wheel. The aristocrat, however, is above this fray, for his station is always high. But is it? As we are all on the wheel, those who are stationed highest in life are the greatest fools, for they think they are above the fray - only to fall into judgment like everyone else. The picaro knows at least that he is on the fringe, and is not surprised when fate brings him down again. He is aware of the wheel. And the holy man? He knows the wheel and is able to rise above it - not he cycle of life and death, but the cycle of accumulation, of ego satisfaction which will always end in failure on judgement day.
So it is that Jesus rode an ass, and that he chose unlettered "asses" as his disciples. The holy ass is indeed more capable of the holy - of rising to meet the wheel - than the great men. To be simple like a child is to be a fool - but also to be open to the will of heaven.
And so Bruno laughed at the monks and lay faithful kissing the ass of the ass, but praised them as well. It is a delicious twist for those of a certain kind of mind - and it holds some truth. The picaro, the holy ass, wheels closer to the holy man than the great powers that be. They are fools, but closer to enlightenment than those who disdain them. Still, I would like that watch and passport back. Call me a fool. FK
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