Hope and Other Nonsense

At least in the ways we’ve been taught to be virtuous.  We’ve made virtue a thing of the saints and it’s not. And we’d really be screwed if it was. If we had to rely on the saints, or the most saintly among us, for something like patience, we would not be enduring this social distancing even as tenuously as we are. It wouldn’t work if we did not already possess the virtue of patience in some measure within us. But we tend to elevate those who demonstrate patience as somehow especially gifted. If we did not have generosity already within us, where did it come from so quickly as soon as we knew this coronavirus would take hold of our lives? Generosity didn’t show up in everyone, but there was a considerable wave that swept across the planet nevertheless. And in large part, the wave of generosity is one of the things making this quarantine bearable. Without it, we’d be in a very different kind of mess. It can be exasperating that it seems like there’s nothing like a  crises to br

How much fear do we need to keep us safe? This depends on how well each of our amygdala's are functioning and what we mean by safe. The amygdala  is the fear center of our brain. It is wired into our nervous system for the purpose of recognizing and evaluating threats to our safety, security, and survival. It would seem the greatest barrier to understanding where to place our fear during this once-in-a-century pandemic is that what’s being asked of us is not likely to make our amygdalas catch fire. Therefore we cannot rely only on our body’s fear-response system to do all of the work for us. We are not all going to die from this novel coronavirus. Nor will even a majority of us die from it. The question is how many of us will die and how many of those deaths will truly have been preventable. The amygdala behaves like the gatekeeper to higher brain functioning that some say define us as humans - reason, compassion, empathy, imagination. Everything we encounter must

We are forgetful creatures. We have forgotten our traditions. We have forgotten our potential in complexity. We have forgotten the truth found in nuance. We have forgotten the wonder of our imagination. We have forgotten the depth of our humanity. And somehow, simultaneously we have forgotten we are simple creatures, still subject to our environment. We have forgotten we are creatures of the Earth and bound by her rhythms. Neglecting our interdependence with the Earth has not made us independent, but helplessly dependent. Technology’s “progressive” march has lulled us to sleep believing we have subdued her - we would not, could not, will not be overthrown. The spiritual traditions have always known we are not masters here. Even science is now begging us to again discover reverence for the Earth before she has no other choice but to be rid of us. We have forgotten the rhythms of the Earth are not only around us, but also within us. Fetishizing quick-fixes, immediate pleas

What do you call yourself when it is precisely your Christian faith that recoils at the political-nationalism of the Evangelical right, and to choose the descriptor of “left” only exacerbates a polarization which also betrays your understanding of the name Christian?  How we live each day has always meant more than what we call ourselves.

“We’re all in this together” is quickly becoming the mantra of CEO’s taking their turn to speak to this novel virus running over our planet at an impressive rate. As I hear their attempts to reassure present and potential customers that “they are doing everything they can” to keep us and their employees safe so we might keep buying their stuff online, I am struck with some measure of gratitude and a greater portion of boredom. The decision by some multi-national corporations to continue paying their employees while their doors are closed before the impending federal bailout was announced is laudable, and deserving of our gratitude. Using their resources to care for the people who make their profits possible is a tangible gesture of concern and public responsibility, as the Federal Treasury is about to open the flood gates. It is on that fact alone, that some of these retail stores may pique enough interest to continue generating revenue in this strange time. After all, the timing may

Hope is essential. Nothing matters much without it. But there is something nonsensical about hope, something unreasonable... ...and perhaps that is why we need it now more than ever. We are drowning in reasonable strategies and technical solutions and have ignored our emotional and spiritual natures as though they were soft and unproductive. Hope gets dismissed as impractical and relegated to the world of pleasantries. Hope is not an antiquated notion that pleads with us, saying everything is going to be ok. Hope does not fear reality, but risks seeing the pain, death, suffering, and destruction—and sees a future still. A future with love, and goodness, and joy, and flourishing. Hope is essential if we wish to imagine a future worthy of generations still to come. And yet, take hope too seriously, cling to it with certainty, let it be one more attachment in our self-help culture, we risk losing its creative power. Hope calls to be held lightly—playfully even—if we hope to