Norm Macdonald

 

Until yesterday, when I heard he had died, I had never heard of Norm Macdonald. I also learn, from several sources, that he is the funniest man who ever lived. And he was Canadian. I have become that out of touch by living abroad for some years.

Then again, Macdonald may not have been all that famous. Other comedians idolized him, but his jokes did not, I hear in YouTube clips, often get loud hoots of laughter from the audience. He was not there to entertain. He was not there to please the audience.

So, if he was not an entertainer, what was he?

Reviewing clips on YouTube now, I think he was not just funny. He was not even just an artist, who did it for the craft, for beauty—although that is already immensely honourable. He was a saint. In Old Testament terms, he was a prophet.

He shows a relentless, courageous commitment to the truth, regardless of what those around him say or think. He shows a relentless sense of and concern for right and wrong. He will not be silent about OJ Simpson’s murders, or Bill Clinton’s, or Michael Jackson’s pedophilia.

This is what true sainthood is; not some nominal commitment to Jesus Christ, or believing this or that particular thing, or saying you do, or going regularly to a particular church, or synagogue, or mosque, or temple. That is Pharisaism, and Jesus himself condemned it above all things. True commitment to Christ is commitment to truth and good and beauty, wherever it leads.

Macdonald got away with speaking the truth publicly through the time-honoured tactic of pretending to be stupid or mad—his relentless grin, his belittling of himself, his remarkably well-feigned lack of awareness of how others might react. Much or all “insanity” may be such a mask; Shakespeare suggests so. The court fools of earlier times certainly employed the ruse.

Macdonald’s theology is very basic; or he pretends it is. He just claims “intuition” and arbitrary “belief.” But his jokes nail some of society’s acts of denial. Notably, the idea that alcoholism is a “disease” rather than a vice. Or that casual sex is perfectly okay. Or that any comment about blacks other than unambiguous praise is “racist.”

Macdonald had leukemia for nine years before he died; and nobody knew. He did not even tell his family. This sounds like heroic virtue. He did not want them to worry or suffer.

Why did he die so young? Because he had done his best, fought the good fight, won the race, and had earned his reward.