Hopeful Thinking

It may come as a surprise to you but I don’t really like going to church. Of course I very much enjoy my own church community at First Parish and I enjoy the services. But if I didn’t have anywhere to be on a Sunday morning, church is not how I’d fill my time. I suspect the majority of us feel that way nowadays. Our generations still remember being compelled to attend and many of us would now rather not. For us “church” can be a concept of boredom, judgement, and oftentimes hostility from other members of a congregation who do not practice what they preach. I’ve heard recent stories of churches kicking out members because of living with a boyfriend, or having to stand before the entire congregation to confess sins like adultery or other crimes. Is this mercy? This is not what was taught. This is conformity by shame. Not growth by grace. These punishments are antithetical to the concept of church. Of course not all churches are like that. Thankfully, my own included....

Quantum mechanics teaches us that all possibilities are still available until one is chosen. In my frequent case, that means every time I lose my wallet, it is literally everywhere until I lay my eyes on it. Until something creates a decision about where my wallet is located, all probabilities, from leaving it on the roof of my car to tucked safely behind the cushion of my couch, are still possible. Is it logical? Decidedly no. But any time spent with quantum theory is a bit of an adversary to logic. It even made Einstein scratch his head. I actually use this way of thinking when I lose my keys or wallet. I picture them safe. I remain calm. I assume eventually I will discover them. I can say to date that despite losing them virtually every other day I have never, knock on wood, had to replace a single card or key. I won’t declare for sure that it’s my way of thinking which has kept my keys and wallet safe until I manage to locate them. Even though quantum physics would. I...

Let’s assume for a moment, as many theologians have, that everyone puts their faith in something. It isn’t necessarily a traditional religious doctrine or creed. It can be a faith in money or prestige. Or video gaming. It can be in humanity. It can be in a traditional or non-traditional version of God. Or in science. Everyone maintains their own personal faith system; an organized thought around which we orient our lives. Or perhaps not so organized. The struggles we each personally face are due, in part, to how well we organize our thinking about that in which we place our faith. In other words, we often don’t spend enough, or any time thinking about what we think. That ship is often rudderless. For this conversation let’s define “faith” as a thing or idea to which we turn when we don’t understand our world. “Religion” is the accumulating set of understood truths resulting from those questions over time. We develop a personal dogma and doctrine as we mature. What are yours? For...

Political-correctness fatigue is real. Let’s just accept that. It’s not a judgement on the need to be correct with our words. We simply must be. But for a moment, recognize the enormous seismic shift that effort is making and wonder about why we have chosen to make it. Forget how much thinking it requires, reaching for the newest right word or term to use. Forget the literal anxiety it makes us feel worrying that we aren’t being sensitive enough. That we’ll be embarrassed. Called out for our racism we didn’t know we had. Our sexism we didn’t realize was embedded in our culture so deeply we all gave it permission to continue. Until we didn’t. It’s an exhaustive learning curve and many feel left behind, even victimized by it. They don’t understand. Not all people do. Forgive them anyway. Frustration breeds anger. Anger is what we are seeing. Anger has forgotten the reason for the effort in the first place. It’s understandable. It’s human. It’s part of...

     I have always held an instinctive belief that all shall be well. In both the planetary and human sense. It’s the source of my somewhat expansive optimism. As a kid I first heard people talking about “the end of the world.” While I don’t remember the circumstances, I know it struck me deeply. I right away had a very particular view and opinion of what it really meant.     I don’t know if it was because I feared death as a child (I did) or because optimism was already a fixed part of my identity, but I immediately interpreted the so-called destruction of civilization, as a metaphor. Not a literal death, but a change. It was long before 80s TV films like “The Day After” depicting the aftermath of a nuclear attack. Nor the dozens of apocalypse films that have increasingly surfaced afterward as the new millennia approached and the year 2012 loomed. Do an Internet search on “end of the world movies.” It doesn’t take a sociologist to see...