My son was born 5 weeks ago. My father died 3 weeks ago. What a mix of emotions. We held my Dad’s funeral last week, on the same day as the inauguration. That was a terrible day. Predictably, the awful new/old President started doing awful things. Over the proceeding days, in the midst of mourning and doom-scrolling of miserable news, I decided to put on some music that I like. It was beautiful and the feelings it inspired in me reminded me of the quote from Dostoevsky’s, The Idiot, “Beauty will save the world.” I looked down at my infant son in my arms, I looked at my daughter, my wife, my life. I thought more about the quote. I thought about how when things are bad, we really need to lean into the arts, where beauty and creativity springs, not to escape but to inspire and remind us that the world, this great created thing, is beautiful and worth saving.
Put your mind on the good, not to escape or ignore the bad but because the good things are the point of it all. So many of us walk through life cynically focused on what’s wrong. We can look at our adversaries who have, themselves, been corrupted by cynicism, negativity, and fear of things that they don’t understand. Some have taken advantage of these fears and used it to control others. Under this control, there are some that have become adversarial that were once beloved family members or friends. By rejecting this fear and cynicism, we can “be the change we wish to see in the world” as Gandhi shared. From Maya Angelou, we can recognize that “we are more alike, my friends, than we are unalike.” And in this, perhaps, we can “seek first to understand than to be understood,” as St. Francis once prayed. In my previous paragraph I referred to the world as “this great created thing.” I did not say so to exclude anyone that doesn’t hold the belief in a God that crafted this world. Whether you believe in a creator-God or not, the world as we know it has been created by each and every creature, plant, and mineral that has been and the collective will continue to create a new thing long after we are gone.
Things are going poorly in this country and in the world. I’ve written about these things in my recent posts but the cards are stacked against us, the common folk. The “elites,” the “oligarchy,” the “business class,” whatever you wish to call them have thus far succeeded in dividing and conquering us. Despite the dawn of the internet and social media and advances in technology, humanity is more isolated and miserable than ever. Despite access to essentially unlimited and up-to-the-minute knowledge, humanity is more uniformed and checked-out than ever. With AI taking rapid steps forward, I am not optimistic humanity will come out ahead in that relationship either. Not to mention the seemingly inevitable and worsening doom of climate change in the coming years. And yet, despite all of this, we move forward and hope for better when all the rational and logical signs would say it’s pointless. Why?
It’s important to find your “why.” For me, I think of my family, my children’s future. I think of Psalm 121 which asks, “Where does our help come from?” and answers, “Our help comes from the Lord.” When I think of this psalm I often replace the word “help” with “hope.” I’ve taken the example of Christ seriously in my life, and what he asks is pretty radical; “love others.” I was raised understanding “the golden rule” and it was instilled in me from my teenage years to leave things better than how I found it. I’ve been humbled enough in my life to understand my obscure place in this story, but that doesn’t mean that what I do doesn’t matter.
For better or worse, we live in community. As I have in previous posts, I’ll plug my church again. On Sunday, the sermon touched on the difficulty of living communally in this world determined to isolate us and commodify our time. Collectively, we increasingly live in such a way that eliminates the need for extraneous contact with other people. We do our shopping and order our meals online and have them delivered to our doors. When we are in public spaces we have our eyes to the ground and AirPods in our ears. We are ever-seeking convenience and the sanctuary of our own homes. These are not, in themselves, bad things but we have effectively eliminated the need for human contact. We now have to seek that interaction with intention. Conversing with others, connecting in some small way, improves our lives. There are studies that have been done on this subject, and we have all seen the negative social impact that the pandemic had on our communities, especially the elderly and children. The pandemic is over, but many of the social structures and habits remained. Socializing with others will often be inconvenient and may get annoying, but we need to stay connected.
We have to combat these negative things with joy and hope and love and peace and optimism. These things are stronger than hate. It doesn’t mean it will be easy. It doesn’t mean there won’t be a time to stand strong, to defend yourself, to fight. Still, remember what and who it is that you’re fighting against. Propaganda is a powerful tool. The powerful use it to dehumanize their opposition. Our fight is not with our brothers on the other side. It’s with the powerful who distract and divide and demonize us against each other. Don’t allow them to distract you with made up problems when the actual issues we need to care for are staring you in the face, down the street, across the dinner table, or in the mirror.
Don’t let them dictate how you understand the world and your fellow man. See for yourself and trust what you see (assuming it’s not AI). To quote Maya Angelou once more, “When someone shows you who they are, believe them." Occam’s Razor: the simplest explanation is usually the correct one. If someone does a Nazi salute, they are a Nazi. Don’t excuse it or explain it away. I’ve heard admiration for the President because he, “tells it like it is.” Then he’ll say something controversial and, when confronted, that same person will say, “well, he’s just joking” or “that’s not what he meant.” When the details of Project 2025 came to light and were found deeply unpopular, Trump distanced himself, claiming not to know anything about it or anyone involved with it. Anyone actually paying attention could see that the architects of Project 2025 were also his campaign team. And now, of the whirlwind of executive orders that Trump has been signing in the early days of his second presidential term, a majority of them directly match the Project 2025 agenda. Trump is a liar.
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
-Dylan Thomas
My Father died 3 weeks ago. The above poem was written by Dylan Thomas when his father was on his deathbed. I had previously heard this poem with a more political interpretation of raging against tyranny and urging the listener to not gently give up their freedom and democracy. If society was going to fall to authoritarianism it wouldn’t be without a fight. I believe that interpretation is just as cogent and timely for our current predicament. As I looked deeper into this poem and found that it spoke of the grief of losing a father, I heard it with new ears with my own father in mind. I won’t speak ill of my Dad. He was in hospice for the last several months of his life and while his passing felt like it came too soon, it wasn’t a surprise. I’m unsure if my Dad got to vote in this last election with everything he was struggling with but if he did he surely voted for Trump. He was caught in the “Christian-conservative“ web and voted “Pro-life” over any other issue. Even before he entered hospice, something that frustrated me about my Dad was that for the last handful of years he was ready to either die or have Jesus return. My Dad was a believer in the eschatological phenomenon popularized in the Left Behind Christian book series called “The Rapture.” I felt that these beliefs held him back from taking an interest in life or enjoying things that were still happening in his children’s and grandchildren’s lives. I think about this poem and how it matches with my pleading thoughts to my Dad over the years to enjoy the time he has left, that there were still things to live for and enjoy. Despite all this, my Dad was a good man, husband, and father. He loved and somehow provided for his 10 children. He walked closely with God, and he loved singing and caring for plants.
While I take issue with some aspects of Emerson’s philosophy, I love this definition of a successful life and legacy. I think my Dad did a pretty good job hitting these marks. He had a prayer taped inside his Bible that he prayed over the family literally every day:
Cover them with your wings.
Be a shield around them.
In the days before he died, when I was informed he had taken a turn for the worse, I began reflecting on my memories with my Dad. There was some good, some frustrating, some sad. I remembered certain interactions that I had with him where, looking back, I am realizing that he was trying to connect and show love, but I rejected it. I’m remembering a conversation we had when I was in middle school and I’ve realized that my response was hurtful. I’m making these connections now that I am a father, myself. Thankfully, I was able to apologize to him for some of these hard memories over the years but there were others that I realized too late. I’m hopeful he’s looking down on me from God’s glory and he accepts my apology. My Dad had his faults, but he also didn’t get enough credit for his admirable qualities. He was passionate, loyal, consistent, and devoted along with other good things. I love you, Dad. I have faith that I’ll see you again, and when I do, 1 Corinthians 13:12 will be fulfilled in my life; “For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known.”
I hope to break this cycle and not pass this legacy to my children. I’ve come to recognize the limitations of political parties and the realities of the system we have in place. I believe my recent posts attest to that. But there is still work to do and the road ahead is unclear. I take these lessons and reflections and consider the examples before me and I will continue to educate myself with humility and try to commit “small acts of kindness and love” knowing that “not all of us can do great things, but we can do small things with great love.”
