Essays
A collection of reflections shaped by curiosity, conviction, and care. Written for those navigating faith, culture, nature, and meaning in a world that’s always in motion.
I was right on top of her, taking down the platform feeder, when I finally noticed the tiny chickadee struggling frantically. She was caught in the tangle of netting and wire I had foolishly bunched on top of the squirrel baffle.
If we think of the church as a garden—or maybe a vineyard, to be more in keeping with Jesus’ kingdom parables—that would suggest that we need to keep after the weeds. If we want to bear fruit and continue to cultivate healthy soil, well, some plants just don’t help. They take up nutrients and space that could be going toward the good fruit. The invasive ones become aggressive and can easily take over the whole garden if left to their own devices.
We can attempt to answer that question any number of ways, but sociology can offer some helpful insights. I read Notre Dame sociologist Christian Smith’s new book, Why Religion Went Obsolete, earlier this summer, and I found it breathtakingly explanatory for much of what I’ve witnessed in my own experience across the past six decades.
Fortunately, the sociological literature on hope is a growing field. Can a bunch of sociologists offer us some insight on hope? I was recently part of a lively conversation in which we tried to figure that out.
Of course, things could be worse. You could find yourself in a frightening blank nothingness in which you can’t find any WiFi. You might have fallen into a cyberabyss. It’s a cyberabysmal place to be. You might describe yourself as webvexed.
Even if we build various systems and institutions to help us do that lamb-feeding work, every day is still, in essence, an exercise in coming to the beach needy and longing and empty, and finding that Jesus is already there, coals ready, showing us how to find abundance in ways we could not possibly rustle up ourselves. We have no strength to feed others until Jesus feeds us first.
Domination and destruction are easy and cruel. Serving, building, creating: that takes humility, which is true strength. So how can we provide a counter-narrative in which we reclaim for men the fundamental wisdom of Christianity: the truly strong are the ones who humble themselves and serve others.
This is the commemorative hundredth-anniversary book for Alpine Avenue Christian Reformed Church, the church in which I grew up. The anniversary occurred in 1981 when I was not quite sixteen years old, and I admit I’ve lugged this book around all my life but not actually read through it—until last Sunday.
The soup is nothing but beans, veggie broth, and vegetables. OK, there’s a little salt. I say it’s virtuous not with pride but with a sigh. We’re talking Lenten sorts of virtue here. Is it a little boring? Yes. Is it really perfectly virtuous? Of course not. Nothing is. Come on, I’m a Calvinist, and we’re still talking about a food system full of injustices, etc. But the soup tastes pretty good, it’s better for me than a lot of other options, and I don’t really need lunch to be exciting.
The wan plea Why can’t we all just get along? seems trivial and stupid, but it’s actually a good question, one humans have been asking since forever. Maybe the rock-bottom answer is always the same: the primordial sin plaguing us since Cain and Abel. Kin-conflict, kin-hatred, kin-violence.
I noticed that the way we spoke about nature almost always celebrated beautiful aspects, typically in general terms: mountains, clouds, wildflowers, sunsets, that sort of thing. We did not discuss parasitic wasps at all, or STI-infected cicadas.
Strange how quickly people’s lives fade into oblivion. These people lived their lives, then died. And their stories? What happens to their stories? Maybe a few facts or memories get preserved, but what of all the sorrows and thoughts and day-to-day experiences?
It seems to me people have all kinds of unhelpful notions about what a vote means. And that can lead to them choosing not to vote, usually for either (or both) of two reasons. 1. They don’t think their vote matters. 2. They want to signal their virtue.
Let’s address these one at a time.
What distinctive gifts does the church bring to the table? What can we offer, right now, in this moment in history? What gifts of the church are suited well for what we need?
Homo Phagon: Are We Nothing But Consumers?