Like a lame man's legs that hang limp is a proverb in the mouth of a fool (Proverbs 26:7).

Have you ever wished you could look under FDR's blanket?  You know, the one that was perennially perched on the lap of the 32nd President of the United States of America?  Did you ever even notice the strategically-placed blanket?  It was to cover the great world leader's atrophied legs, which had been crippled by polio and were useless for anything except sitting -- though FDR managed to keep his handicap a secret throughout his years in office.  But seriously, isn't there some level of morbid curiosity to look under that blanket and see those shriveled legs?  I admit, anyway, that I've thought about it, wondered about it, been curious about it.  But in the end, I've decided that I'd really rather not see.

There seems to be something intensely personal -- almost painful -- when it comes to gazing upon a handicapped person's area of affliction.  It feels inconsiderate and mean to stare at the stump of an amputee, or the scar tissue of a burn victim, or the legs of a parapalegic.  Maybe it's just me, but there seems to be a great danger in these situations of creating more social awkwardness than the physical awkwardness would ever enter into the picture.  Personally, I think it's far better to talk about the situations openly, politely, and directly with the affected individual, as opposed to pointing and whispering quietly about it while never making eye contact with the person... But still, there comes a point when it's better to just ignore the issue and treat the person as a person.  It's better to treat FDR as FDR, president and world leader throughout the Great Depression and the Second World War, instead of regarding him as some polio victim.  Do you know what I mean?  I recognize that it may be a bit politically-incorrect to acknowledge the awkwardness that so often comes up in such situations.  But it's there.  We've all experienced it.

It's the same way -- if not a bit more awkward -- to listen to a fool parroting Proverbial wisdom.

Sometimes, we can hear a fool (a person of questionable character and demonstrable ignorance) trying to speak words of wisdom, and we want to treat such a person as if he was any other reasonable person, just trying to share his opinion on a particular matter.  We know better, deep down, but we listen because we believe it's the polite thing to do.  But as it becomes more and more apparent how far off-base the fool's attempts at wisdom really are -- how dramatically such a person might mishandle Scripture, for instance -- it becomes more and more awkward, more painful to accept his words.  It's like we find ourselves staring at the parapalegic's legs, and we're suddenly grabbed by the impropriety of it all.  The wrongness of it all.  It's not just useless and benign.  It's awkward and outright mean-spirited to let the fool have his way with the conversation.  In the end, it's better to acknowledge the disability (i.e. the folly) and then move on to other matters.  We can treat the person as a person.  But we don't ask the parapalegic to walk; and we don't need to ask the fool to provide wise counsel.  Instead, we can just let the blanket lie where it is and avoid a lot of awkwardness for everyone involved.