Brock Purdy - Mr. Irrelevant

  

HS #101 2023.12.14

 

Brock Purdy – Mr. Irrelevant

 

I have a new hero. It all started a year ago. On December 4, 2022 I had a free Sunday afternoon, so was surfing through TV channels and lit upon an NFL game between the San Francisco 49ers and the Miami Dolphins. The 49er’s quarterback had just gotten injured, so they put in their third string QB – Brock Purdy. He led the team to a 33-17 victory. 

 

The name sounded familiar. Then I remembered that I had watched him play the year before when I was at Iowa State University (my alma mater) to give a talk. I was given tickets to the game - ISU vs. Oklahoma State. ISU beat their rival and fans flooded the field. 

 

Although Purdy led the previously languishing ISU team to four successful seasons, his leadership talents were not appreciated by the NFL drafters. Lacking size and arm strength, the 49ers picked him as the very last draft pick of 2022. Pick Number 262 – with the appropriate and demeaning nickname of Mr. Irrelevant. 

 

As at Iowa State, Purdy started as third string quarterback for the 49ers, but he impressed his teammates with his assiduous training and preparation.  Then, as at ISU, injuries to the first two quarterbacks catapulted him to the front, and once there, he showed his stuff. That had been his life-mission since a child, when he took no position other than quarterback. 

 

Purdy didn’t lose until seriously injuring his elbow in a play-off game.  He spent the offseason recovering from surgery, and is now leading the 49ers to a potential Super Bowl and is in contention for MVP even though some pundits still question his potential. 

 

But that is all just background for why he’s my hero. 

 

The poet/author Rudyard Kipling has a famous poem “IF”. (Google it!) Brock Purdy is the embodiment of that poem: “If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you, but make allowance for their doubting too . .  If you can wait and not be tired by waiting . .  If you can dream and not make dreams your master . .  If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster and treat those two imposters just the same . .  If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew to serve your turn long after they are gone . .  If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you, if all men count with you, but none too much . .  “

 

THIS is Brock Purdy. This is the stuff of which heroes are made. Likely this is the stuff of many who lie in Arlington. This is the stuff of military veteran Audie Murphy. But in Brock we see it in action in a 23-year-old kid. He’s “The Little Engine that Could” that mom read to me. 

 

It is most clearly seen as he celebrates victory. After successful plays, he bumps helmets and slaps teammates which (he explained when asked) he does to motivate others. But after the victory, he celebrates alone – clenching his fists, arching his back and looking skyward with eyes tightly closed.

 

What’s the significance? Brock’s motivation, his inspiration, his reason for living all lie within himself. He doesn’t need the affirmation of others, and this independence and quiet self-assurance allows him to live fully. This is what makes him the apotheosis of Kipling’s poem.

 

Purdy is a modern-day Eric Liddell. Remember him? The inspiration for the movie “Chariots of Fire.” It was Liddell’s faith which kept him from running for England on Sunday for the 1924 Olympic Games. When the King remarked it was a shame that Liddell’s faith restricted him, he was answered that, in fact, it was Liddell’s faith which propelled him to be the runner he was. 

 

Same with Purdy. His faith is not revealed in postgame interviews. No “God gave us the victory” speeches. But when asked, he explains that his faith – inherited from his parents and upbringing – is the foundation for his confident living.  Would he be the same person without it? Hard to say. Certainly not all people of faith have his self-confidence, and certainly many without faith in God do have his scalding assurance. The atheist Bertrand Russell is one obvious example. 

 

But Purdy’s faith is certainly HIS answer to his unwavering self-assurance, and is why he owns the promise of Kipling’s final line: “Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it – and – which is more – you’ll be a man, my son.” 

East of Eden - As Good as it Gets

  

HS #100 2023.11.9

 

East of Eden – As Good as it Gets

 

“East of Eden” is the most powerful and insightful novel I have ever read. The characters live large, perhaps because they were real characters in John Steinbeck’s life. 

 

Whence the title? According to the Genesis account, when Adam and Eve sinned by eating from the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil, they were removed from Eden. Then when sin continued in Cain who murdered his brother, he was further exiled to a place east of Eden. 

 

Exiled from one’s ideal home – from where, in your soul, you know you belong. Can you relate?

 

In one way or another, many, likely most of us, find ourselves living east of Eden - removed yet in sight of our ideal homes. Perhaps a lost job or career opportunity for which you were perfectly suited. Perhaps a beloved spouse who files for divorce. Perhaps a lost child – either by death or rebellion. Perhaps the abandonment of a close friend or friends who reject or forsake.  Perhaps an illness or accident which limits one’s enjoyment of life.  Perhaps the loss of a dream – of a reality hoped and prayed for, but never actualized. Indeed, as I write these, I can think of examples of each among those close to me.  Likely you can as well. 

 

There are two kinds of poverty. If your belly hurts from lack of food, that’s absolute poverty. But if you feel poor compared to your neighbors or your past self, that’s relative poverty. Living east of Eden is poverty compared to one’s past or one’s potential. 

 

How does one live east of Eden? How do we continue our lives removed from our real home? 

 

 Cain’s appeal to God, “How am I to live in exile?” got little consolation: “If anyone kills you, I’ll avenge you.” Big deal. So Cain leaves the picture. He blew it and must bear the consequences – he is written out of history, and lives whatever remains of his life in oblivion, east of Eden. 

 

But the key to “East of Eden” is the advice God gave Cain prior to his sin. God says, “Sin desires to have you, but you must rule over it.” That is the NIV translation. However, in Robert Alter’s Hebrew Bible, the translation is “but you WILL rule over it.” 

 

Which is it? Is God giving Cain a command (must) or a promise (will)? Neither. The Hebrew word is “timshel” and that word is the foundation to Steinbeck’s novel. As Steinbeck explains, “timshel” is neither a command nor a promise. Instead it is a statement of fact. “Timshel” means, “Thou mayest”. “Thou mayest rule over sin.” God is telling Cain he has the power within himself to make the right choice. He is not a slave to his upbringing, nor to his genes, nor to his whims, nor to the expectations of others. Instead, he has the awful power and responsibility to create his own destiny – to determine his own future. He has the power to choose. 

 

There is nothing gentle or “nice” about this. It’s tough and brutal.  It’s a shake and a slap. This sort of message flies in the face of modern sensibilities. We live in an age where dentists apologize for the prick of a needle, where parents and teachers are instructed against using negative words. Some employers have difficulty keeping young workers because they will leave if criticized. Criticism is a new experience for them. We are living in an age where we presume the right not to feel badly. 

 

Indeed, it’s human nature to avoid responsibility for our mistakes. Watch any pickleball player whose overhead swing misses the ball. S/he looks at the paddle with disgust. Stupid paddle!  This behavior goes right back to Adam who said to God, “The woman you gave me made me eat of the Tree.” Yep – it’s God’s fault. 

 

But even though Cain lost Eden, according to the Biblical record he still found relationship – perhaps the greatest human need. And this too relies on timshel. Indeed, the focal point of Steinbeck’s novel is when despondent Adam Trask is told the awful truth of his unfaithful wife. Tough medicine, but it shocks Adam out of his lethargy and into relationship with his sons. Through timshel we have hope and consolation that although we may not live in our Eden, our life may still be, as per the theme of the Jack Nicholson Academy winner, “As Good as it Gets.” 

Lesson from Far Side

  

HS #99 2023.10.12

 

Lesson from Far Side

 

My favorite Far Side comic (any reader who didn’t enjoy Far Side, Bloom County and Calvin & Hobbes during the Golden Days of newspaper comics has my condolences) is of two weather-beaten men lost at sea in an inflated life raft in the midst of ocean in all directions. Drifting towards them is a wooden crate  marked, “Pins, Nails, Broken Glass.” As one of them reaches for the crate, he says to his companion, “Don’t know what use we have for pins, nails, and broken glass, but let’s bring it aboard.” 

 

What’s the humor? Obviously, there would be little if any benefit from pins, nails and broken glass. On the other hand, the negative consequence of bringing those things aboard is obvious. Might even say inevitable. One doesn’t know which particular item will puncture the raft, but it’s just a matter of time before it happens.  

 

A foolish decision.  Agreed? 

 

What’s the lesson?  Put the right conditions together and tragic results are bound to happen. This was essentially the lesson in Shakespeare’s “Romeo and Juliet.” Given the bad blood between the families, it was inescapable that some event – it happened to be a mix up of communication – would lead to tragedy. 

 

Conversely, by reducing the number of potentially dangerous factors, one can lessen the possibility of adverse consequences. 

 

 We apply the principle broadly. We know, for example, that mosquitoes have three stages of life: egg, larvae, adult. So by lowering the number of mosquitoes surviving each stage (minimizing standing water and spraying adults), we most effectively diminish the number of mosquito bites. Smart. 

 

Similarly, we know that fire requires fuel, oxygen, and heat. Thus, whenever two are present, we carefully avoid the third. If all three are together, fire is likely.  So when enriched oxygen is present, heat and combustibles are limited. 

 

This thinking led to seatbelt laws. Unrestrained human bodies in cars caused tens of thousands of deaths from auto collisions. Requiring seatbelts and mandating airbags has dramatically reduced the number of deaths. 

 

Such decisions depend upon and reveal the values of a given society. Seatbelts are annoying, but we have decided that saving lives outweighs the inconvenience, so we require them. 

 

Unfortunately, because of the messed-up values of our society, this preemptive type of thinking doesn’t apply to deaths from firearms.  

 

“Guns don’t kill people. People do.” Such is the silliness one often hears. Of course it’s false. The correct answer?  People with guns kill people. Both ingredients are necessary.  

 

If a second-grade teacher discovers that her students are using sharp scissors to jab each other, she addresses the behavior problem, but in the meantime, she takes away the scissors. If any student disputed, “I want my scissors – scissors don’t stab us, children do!”  she’d have a good belly laugh. The prevalence of easily-used fire arms together with the number of stressed/disturbed people makes the continuing tragedy of numerous gun deaths as predictable as the fate of the hapless men on the raft. 

 

Indeed, what’s easier to control, a person’s psyche or a piece of metal? If we valued human life more, we’d realize it’s ludicrous not to control both of the factors causing deaths from firearms. Stalin famously said, “The death of one man is a tragedy. The death of a million is a statistic.” He was right, and we are seeing the truth of it play out before us.

 

Yes, yes, yes, we have a Second Amendment. So let’s be faithful Constitutional originalists and allow muskets for security.  Anything beyond that is more than the Founding Fathers had in mind, so other types of firearms must be justified for non-Constitutional reasons.  

 

Interestingly, “standing on rights” is antithetical to Biblical teaching. Jesus didn’t talk about rights, but instead about love as a guiding principle for living one’s life. The Apostle Paul admonished the early church in Corinth not to claim their right to eat what they want, but instead to make choices that edified others. Even the Old Testament Yahweh was concerned about His people living in community rather than claiming their own rights and privileges. 

 

How bizarre that so many are fascinated with carrying – concealed or openly – a weapon whose only purpose is to kill others. Ludicrously, our own county (Ottawa Impact) is promoting it. Other civilized countries look at us with incomprehension. Future generations of Americans will doubtless look back in wonder at our abject foolishness. But, for the present, we must live with our choices.  Insanity. Truly. 

Discerning Moral Truth

  

HS #98 2023.9.14

 

Discerning Moral Truth

 

When teaching my senior seminar at Hope College, I gave the assignment of writing a paper selecting one of two titles: “I am a Seeker of Truth” or “I am a Child of God.” I explained that these are not mutually exclusive. However, if someone on the street asked, “Who are you?” although there are myriad possible responses, a person’s answer would reveal what is most central to their identity. Similarly, they were to pick the title which best described their core. 

 

Personally, I pick the former. I live my life very imperfectly pursuing truth, beauty and love. 

If there is a Supreme Being who encompasses these in all their fullness, then worship and love is the natural response. Thus, being a seeker of truth can set one free to become a devoted Child of God as well.  

 

How does one seek truth?  Scientific research is a powerful means to converge on truth about our natural world. The process of experimentation – repeated by others who are motivated to find flaws – doesn’t prove anything true with certainty, but it does lead to increased confidence. 

 

But how does one discern moral truth – what one “ought” to do? Especially for the Child of God, how does one combine scripture, culture, and one’s own experience? A recent Holland Sentinel column by Bill Sutton (July 30) on the LGBTQ+ issue suggested that the Bible preempts all else. I think it’s more complicated than that. Why? Whether using the Bible or any other source, EVERYTHING is interpreted and understood by our faulty minds. And everything, even the Bible, comes to us through imperfect humans. Thus, all must be interpreted in light of the others. 

 

It wasn't long ago (1970's) that same-sex attraction was considered by psychologists to be a malady - something from which to be cured. Then, gradually, two things were realized: i) sexual attraction doesn’t change, ii) gays and lesbians enjoy healthy happy wholesome lives (except for rejection by some) by living in accordance with their same-sex attraction. Since a guiding principle of the medical world is “Do no harm” the medical community changed its stance on the issue. Was this wrong, or a step towards finding moral truth?

 

Also, sometimes culture seems to be ahead of the church in recognizing Biblical truth. 

Women’s suffrage, abolition of slavery, the 1990 Americans with Disability Act were all issues which are in step with biblical precepts, but where secular society took the lead. I can imagine a child of a slave holder in the 18^th century understanding the Bible as endorsing slavery. Then, the child becomes friends with children of slaves and sees life through their eyes. Suddenly, it is OTHER verses of the Bible which impinge upon the youngster. The Bible hasn’t changed, but the eyes reading the Bible have. They have been sensitized by experiencing a different culture. Is this wrong or a step towards discerning moral truth? 

 

In explaining why there is pain in the world, there is a “baby test.” Any explanation must be able to be given to a couple who has just lost an infant child. I thought of that recently when I met two beaming and wholesome gay 30-something men vacationing in the UP. Having met at “Teach for America” they have been a couple for seven years and were obviously enjoying their vacation and their lives together. What would anyone against gay marriage say to them? 

 

Should they separate?  No longer be friends? Should they be friends, but not live together - robbing them of the joy of each other's constant companionship? Should they live together, but unlike every hetero couple, resist the urge to embrace each other fully in love? Pats on back? Quick hugs? Long hugs? Walks hand in hand? Sleep next to each other? 

 

What if one gets aroused? Then quickly move to another room or bed? Take a cold shower? Repent of their sinfulness and return to separate beds with guilt and sense of their fallen nature? 

 

Years ago, after Hope College professor David Myers gave a talk defending same-sex relationships, a burly construction-clad middle-aged man stood up and remarked that no matter Myers’s argument, he still believed it was wrong. He was followed immediately by a similar looking man who said, “Last year I would have said the same, but this past Christmas my son told me he is gay – and I love my son.” Should such be discounted when finding moral truth? 

 

All worth pondering. 

Kayaking the Au Train

  

HS #97 2023.8.10

 

Kayaking the Au Train

 

As you read this, I am likely kayaking the Au Train River in the UP of Michigan. Since Henry David Thoreau wrote an entire book detailing his life on Walden Pond, I will allow myself a newspaper column detailing how to enjoy the good life in Au Train, which sits at the widest North-South point of Lake Superior.  

 

I do so with a bit of trepidation. In eight years of writing columns for the Holland Sentinel on myriad topics including religion and politics, nothing brought the chastisement as did last year’s column on the Michigan UP.  I lovingly described it as a place of fresh air, clean water, and rusty pickup trucks. A few (possible) BMW owners took offense. Oh well, here goes: 

 

First, the kayaking. Genesis 5:24 says that Enoch walked with God. Interesting word, “walked.” It connotes making continual progress, but at a non-tiring rate. Kayaking is even better since one can let one’s mind wander while drifting and/or paddling with no need to give attention to curbs and traffic.  A broad stream or river allows one to be close to nature – hidden water falls, turtles, muskrats, bald eagles, blue herons, and occasional otters – while immersed in conversation or lost in one’s own thoughts. 

 

Do you know the song, “The Happy Wanderer”?  “I love to go a wandering – along the mountain track. And as I go, I love to sing – my knapsack on my back.” I changed the lyrics to “I love to go a kayaking, along the forest stream. And as I go, I love to sing, and think and plan and dream.” Filling the silent woods with robust vocalizing is perhaps the reason I don’t see deer or moose. 

 

My favorite kayak is the Pungo 120. It is long enough to maintain a straight line when desired, and short enough to turn easily. The three-way adjustable seat and easy-access storage are the best I’ve found and the open cockpit allows for bent knees. The burnt orange color repels deer flies that are attracted to the blue one, but the blue color is more easily hidden in the weeds. 

 

Camping with a kayak or canoe is also a great experience. Canoes carry an SUV load of supplies, while still providing almost effortless movement. There are challenges, especially if you have never been without a biffy. Campers devise their own method – some sit on a log, others squat. I’ve called my own idea the “crap-strap.” You likely get the idea from the name - you sit suspended in it as it hooks on the branch of a tree. I’m told someone else had the same idea and name – and took the effort to manufacture them. 

 

Another challenge – finding wood and breaking the larger logs for firewood. With a canoe, it’s easy. Float around the shore where usually there are dead sun-dried limbs suspended above the water. Break them off into the canoe – you’re all set. 

 

How to break the thick ones? I call it “prop and drop.” Prop the branch with one end on a stone or log  and the other end on the ground. Drop a heavy rock on it, then pick up the pieces. 

 

Of course, one can also go exploring by car. I spent two weeks in England this past June, but nothing in London’s museums surpassed the novelty of Lakenenland Sculpture Park 17 miles west of Au Train on HYW 28. The 40 acre park (easily driven or walked) contains 80 sculptures by local artist Tom Lakenen.  The medium is mainly scrap metal and each has a thoughtful and humorous political message. 

 

The most intriguing item is the welcome sign at the entrance which warmly invites everyone to enjoy the park free of charge 24/7 – EXCEPT the “local members of the planning and zoning boards” who apparently obstructed his plans. There is a legal NO TRESSPASSING sign there forbidding them from entering. 

 

Want to bring some of Au Train home with you? Go berry picking. How to find wild blueberries? Look for cars parked on the side of the road for no apparent reason. Search around tree stumps in particular. Stop after 90 minutes (everything becomes work after 90 minutes – ask any teacher) or when you find yourself bargaining with the mosquitoes. 

 

Wild raspberries are even better – great for freezer jam. Wear long pants and best to use a container that is graduated, large open top, and hangs on the belt. A hospital urinal is perfect. 

The Present Age

  

HS #96 2023.7.13

 

The Present Age

 

I always advise college students to take courses in Introduction to Psychology and Modern Philosophy. In these two courses one meets thinkers from the past who still influence our lives: Skinner, Freud, Kant, Marx, Nietzsche, Hagel, and Kierkegaard among others. 

 

Case in point: This past spring, playing pickleball on a Saturday morning at Central Park Church, I found myself thinking of Kierkegaard’s, “The Present Age” which I read in college. 

 

Though written in the mid 19^th century, it describes aspects of our present age. Kierkegaard tells a story of a man who has fallen through thin ice on a river. As townsfolk gather on the nearby shore, individuals venture out on the ice toward the drowning man. As each gets closer to the man on the dangerous thin ice, the crowd cheers in admiration for their bravery. Receiving the accolades, they return to shore, giving others the opportunity to do the same. 

 

Does the drowning man get saved? Who knows – it’s not worth mentioning.  The important thing is that people have shown their courage and have been recognized for it. 

 

Absurd!  What’s the point? 

 

Perhaps it’s making a similar point as the story of the parent of an infant who enters a burning house to retrieve a favorite picture of their beloved infant, but leaves the infant. 

 

I think the point of both is the folly of valuing symbolism over substance. I don’t know how that inversion showed itself in Kierkegaard’s day, but there are clear present-day examples. 

 

President George H. W. Bush certainly put symbolism over substance when he (among others) advocated for a Constitutional amendment prohibiting the burning of the U.S. flag. Our Pledge to the Flag concludes “with LIBERTY and justice for all.” Perhaps the most important of these liberties is free speech – including the right to proclaim one’s disagreement, disgust, even loathing towards one’s country. How can one express such sentiment more forcefully than by burning a U.S flag? So those in favor of this amendment chose to value the symbol – our flag – more highly than the substance – our liberty. They were willing to trade the infant for a picture of it. 

 

I also think of the symbolism-over-substance fallacy whenever I hear of Dance Marathons in which participants spend an entire night dancing for a good cause. Townsfolk and businesses donate money so that participants will spend a fun night dancing. 

 

Granted, money IS being raised, which is a good thing. But just like the townsfolk applauding those who ran onto thin ice, they are rewarding a symbolic act rather than a substantive act.  What added value does the symbolic act contribute? Are participants adding real value by dancing, or just gaining self-satisfaction by dancing towards a good cause? 

 

Other examples abound: runs, walks, dunk tanks – all activities where participants are rewarded for their symbolic sacrifice.

 

And that is why I was so impressed and pleased by what I saw at Central Park Church this past spring.  For two Saturdays as we adults played pickleball in the recreation room, the young people of the church were vigorously engaged in making pig-in-blankets and apple pies. It was clear that they came to work. In an organized and coordinated effort that would impress any local industry, we watched as they loaded tray after tray of their assembled goodies. Though obviously having fun together, they were on a mission.  These items were to be sold to raise funds for a youth trip to Nashville so they could spend a week volunteering and helping there. Impressive! It tears me up to think of it. 

 

In a recent (June 20) Holland Sentinel column, Aging 101, Jane Weisiger detailed the maladies of aging. It brought to mind Ecclesiastes 3:20, “Remember thy Creator in the days of thy youth before the days of evil (no pleasure) come.” Indeed, one key to aging well may be taking the opportunity to look back with satisfaction on these kind of efforts accomplished during the vigor of one’s youth. 

 

 Where/how did these young people get this passion to serve others even before graduating from high school? Nothing merely symbolic about their actions. They were working hard to produce a product, selling them at a fair price to earn money, and then using the money to provide an opportunity to help others. All substance. I don’t remember thinking that way as a 16-year-old. Kierkegaard would be impressed!

Three Body Problem

 HS #95 2023.6.8

 

Three Body Problem

 

Have you ever noticed the allure of the number “three”? In sports, for example, hockey has the hat trick (three goals), three strikes in baseball, three medals in the Olympics, three hits in volleyball, three seconds in the lane in basketball. What other examples can you think of? 

 

Interestingly, “three” sometimes gives rise to stability and sometimes to instability. Wind turbines have three blades. Those are needed to keep it balanced. If just two blades, then it could change direction too quickly when the blades are vertical.  A stool or camera TRIpod needs three legs for maximum stability. More than three legs leads to potential rocking. 

 

Relationships, on the other hand, seem most stable between just two people. When dining at friends’ homes, my father liked to quip, “I brought my bad wife with me and left my good wife at home. Isn’t that big – a’ – me?” But he also conceded that bigamy was forbade in the Bible. His proof text: “No man can serve two masters.” 

 

Non-PC joking aside, folks in the job market sometimes reference the “Two body problem” - the challenge of a married couple both finding employment in a given location. 

But this phrase actually comes from a deeper scientific challenge called the "Three Body Problem." It turns out that the relationship between three things often leads to surprising difficulties and counterintuitive surprises. 

 

The three-body problem originated in physics. Understanding and predicting the motion of two heavenly bodies under the influence of mutual gravity is rather simple. It’s a college-level physics problem. But, introduce a third body and calculating the motion of the three bodies becomes impossible, except with the aid of computer approximation and simulation. This led the 19^th century physicist/mathematician Henri Poincare’ (one of my heroes) to develop chaos theory, an apt term since the motion of the bodies was often chaotic and unpredictable. 

 

The intriguing mutual relationship of three things is seen even in the children’s game Rocks-paper-scissors. Isn’t it counterintuitive to you that three things can each beat something that beats something that beats itself? 

 

I use a physical example of the game as a party trick using three knives and three cups.  Set the cups on a table in the shape of a triangle so that the distance between each pair of cups is a bit more than a knife’s length. The challenge then is to place the three knives – extending horizontally from the top of the cups – so as to form a stable platform in the center of the triangle. You can do it – just interweave the ends of the knives. 

 

A more profound example of this three-way relationship exists in Christian doctrine – in fact it’s exposed in the Apostle’s Creed. Any mathematician (or lawyer or philosopher) will tell you that you need to define a term before you can use it. Yet the Apostles Creed seems to violate this principle. Reading through it, one comes to the phrase (concerning Jesus) “conceived of the Holy Spirit” and only afterwards does one recite the phrase “I believe in the Holy Spirit.” 

 

Isn’t that faulty writing? Shouldn’t the existence of the Holy Spirit be acknowledged before the action of the Holy Spirit is referenced? Seems so. However, the Spirit was sent by the Father to glorify the Son, so Jesus needs to be acknowledged before the mission of the Holy Spirit can be understood.   So just like Rocks-paper-scissors, one is forced to cut into the three-way relationship of the Trinity at some point.

 

This challenge of three-way relationships also exists in voting. In 1972 the economist Kenneth Arrow received the Nobel prize for showing that it’s impossible to form a voting method to choose the winner among three candidates that will always satisfy three commonsense objectives. In particular, if you want a system where the final outcome i) ranks A over B if each voter ranks A over B, and ii) is not affected by including irrelevant alternatives into the voting choices, then that voting system is susceptible to the Rocks-paper-scissors dilemma. That is, A beats B, B beats C, and C beats A. (How? Suppose Beth’s order of preference is A, B, C. Tim’s order is B, C, A; and Dan’s is C, A, B. Then in a two-way vote, A beats B, B beats C, and C beats A.) 

 

Alas, my parents were all too familiar with this shortcoming since those often seemed the voting outcomes of my two siblings and me.  

The Cycloid

 HS #94 2023.5.11

 

The Cycloid

 

 

Last month several friends alerted me to a New York Times essay, “The Wondrous Connections between Mathematics and Literature.” It began with Melville’s reference of a “cycloid” in “Moby Dick.” Do you know what a cycloid is? 

 

You can draw one. Secure a ruler to a piece of paper. Practice rolling a disc (a quarter or the top of a jar will do) along the edge of the ruler. Then put a pencil against the disc and trace its path as you roll the disc along the edge one full revolution. You just made a cycloid. 

 

If that’s too much work, you can visualize a cycloid by imagining the path taken on a dark night by a lightning bug that gets caught in the tread of a bicycle tire. As the tire rolls along the sidewalk, the hapless lit-up firefly traces out cycloids. 

 

What’s so special about them? If you want to build a slide that allows one to slide from point A to point B in the minimum time, a cycloid is your answer. Intuitively, one might think that a straight line is the best shape. A cycloid path is longer, but you have the advantage of getting a faster start. 

 

There is sordid history to the discovery. 

 

The Bernoulli brothers of the 17^th century, as with many brothers, were competitive.  Johann Bernoulli discovered that the cycloid gave the optimal path, but instead of just publishing his finding, he posed it as a challenge to the entire mathematical community of his day in an attempt to best his brother, Jacob. One person submitted a solution anonymously. When Johann Bernoulli saw the exquisitely beautiful solution, he said “This is from Sir Isaac” (referring to Isaac Newton). He was correct. When asked how he knew, he said, “You can tell the lion by the size of the paw.” 

 

Called the Brachistochrone (shortest-time) Problem, it inspired an entire new area of mathematics called Calculus of Variations. I gave a talk on the problem at Hope College in 1987 when I applied for the mathematics position. So it was profitable for me as well. Making use of the alphabetical order of the names involved, the announcement read, “Inspired some of the greatest mathematicians in history including Bernoulli, Euler, Leibnitz, Newton. Pennings will talk on Tuesday.” 

 

In fact, more recently I got wondering what sort of optimal path one would make if limited to adjoining straight line segments rather than a smooth curve. Getting a couple mathematician friends to join me (including former Hope student Mark Panaggio – now a researcher at Johns Hopkins), we solved it – to be published this fall. All a testament to the ever-growing circle of knowledge inspired by past discoveries. 

 

The cycloid has another interesting property as well. A pendulum swinging a big arc takes longer to go back and forth than one swinging a small arc. That’s not surprising. But what IS surprising is that a pendulum constrained to follow the curve of a cycloid will always take the same amount of time, no matter how high or low the starting point. The physicist Huygens actually constructed an accurate clock using this property. 

 

One last notable fact about cycloids is also related to literature. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, the author of the Sherlock Holmes stories, wrote “Silver Blaze” in which the mystery of a stolen horse was solved by Holmes noting the curious event of the dog that didn’t bark in the night.  The non-barking led Holmes to realize the dog must have been familiar with the theif. 

 

Similarly, the cycloid has a curious “negative” quality – one I have never seen noted as such in mathematics literature. Everything else involving the circle involves the number pi. The circumference is pi times the length of the diameter. The area of a circle is pi times the square of the radius (hence the area in the rim of a basket is almost 4 times the cross section of a basketball!). The area of a sphere is 4pi times the square of the radius, and the volume is 4/3 pi times the cube of the radius. Pi is ubiquitous! Except the cycloid. The length of a cycloid is exactly 8 times the radius of the circle. How cool is that! Hope the firefly appreciates it. 

Women Changing our World

 HS #93 2013.4.13

 

Women Changing our World

 

My late Hope College mathematics colleague, Mary DeYoung, had a quote from anthropologist Margaret Mead on her office door, “Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world; indeed, it’s the only thing that ever has.” 

 

Indeed, Mary was one such person herself. Dying suddenly of cancer in the summer of 2011, Mary and her husband, Steve, provided my first home when I moved to Holland in 1988 – in the appendage to their house on Pine Ave and 18^th Street which was originally constructed as a doctor’s office. Through her 25-year career of teaching and inspiring K-8 math education students at Hope College, Mary has impacted hundreds of thousands of lives. 

 

Mead’s quote came to mind recently as I listened with fascination to a BBC account of a new biography, “The Empress of the Nile” by New York Times best-selling author Lynne Olson. The book cover describes its subject, Christiane Desroches-Noblecourt, as “The Daredevil Archaeologist Who Saved Egypt’s Ancient Temples from Destruction.” 

 

Born in Paris in 1913, Desroches-Noblecourt attended a progressive all-girls school in which she became hooked on Egyptology. Her life was one adventure after another. As a curator for the Louvre during WWII, she braved interrogation by the Gestapo and twice moved, hid, and secured its contents, including the “Mona Lisa” from the advancing Nazis.  

 

But her most stunning success was the following decade when Egypt’s President Nasser decided to build a dam across the Nile River. Looking to its future rather than its history, Egypt was willing to sacrifice twelve sacred temples, including the statues of Ramses II dating back 3000 years for the economic benefits that a dam would provide. 

 

Challenging Charles de Galle and the Kennedy administration for funding, planning the details with Egypt’s President Nasser, Desroches-Noblecourt won the day by gathering contributions from 50 countries.  She was a real-life Indiana Jones in her love for antiquity and her willingness to fight any battle to save it. She saved all of the sacred monuments even though the largest had to be cut into small pieces and reassembled much as once happened to the Dutch Windmill on Windmill Island.

 

Indeed, local parallels to Christiane’s life go deeper than that. Reading her story, I was reminded of a West Michigan woman who also had a unique vision for saving history and who clung to her mission like a bulldog. 

 

I’m speaking of Saugatuck’s Felt Mansion. Built in the 1920s by the inventor of the first mechanical calculator, the Felts died within a couple years of its completion. The Catholic Church owed it for a while – it was a convent for nuns secluded from the outside world. There was a turn-style in the front entrance so messages could be transported without human contact.  The grand rooms were gutted to make space for many small living quarters. 

 

In the 1970’s a state legislator had the idea of securing this beautiful land for a state park. There was no money designated for parks, but ample available for prisons. So the state bought it, built and used the prison long enough to satisfy legalities, then tore the prison down and kept the land as a state park.  (Bravo for creative imagination!)

 

The land was retained for the Saugatuck State Park, but there was no use for the mansion. So Laketown Township bought it from the state for $1 in 1996 with the plan to let it fall to ruin so that eventually the only choice would be to tear it down. 

 

But then in 2001 Patty Meyer and her husband took a walk through the park. Seeing the potential, she badgered the township for permission to restore it. After multiple refusals, the township board decided the easiest way to discourage this determined woman was to let her have it for six months so she would realize what a useless effort it was. 

 

Remarkably and gladly, their plan backfired.  Patty and her husband filled six haul-away garbage trailers with dead bats, birds, rats, foxes, raccoons, opossums and other trash. They eventually found the grand mantle for its fireplace in the barn of a local farmer, and after years of work the mansion is now restored to its former glory and available for rent and general viewing. 

 

But Patty is not satisfied with restoring historic buildings. Taking this essay full circle, her new mission is raising childhood literacy throughout the state. Mary would approve. Kudos to these women changing our world. 

Inflection Points

  

HS #92 2023.3.9

 

Inflection Points

 

You are about to experience an inflection point. In eleven days, to be exact. You won’t feel it, this inflection point is too subtle, but it will influence your life, as most inflection points do. 

 

If you drive through downtown Grand Rapids, you will encounter one there. You often create one when coming to stop lights. Two years ago during the thick of COVID the press told us of inflection points even though most of them likely didn’t know exactly what they were talking about. 

 

It’s time to learn. 

 

Imagine walking up a smooth hillside or dune from the bottom of a valley to the top.  As you begin the trek from the bottom, the slope becomes increasingly steep. Your legs get sore because each step is a bit steeper than the last. But as you approach the top, even though you’re still climbing, the RATE of climbing decreases. You can feel the gratitude in your muscles. You have passed the inflection point. 

 

The mathematical definition of an inflection point is where the concavity changes. Think of an “S” lying on its side. The bottom of the “S” which bends up is said to be concave up. The top of the “S” which bends down is “concave down” The middle of the “S” is the inflection point. Driving north along the S-curve in Grand Rapids, the inflection point is the place where you transition from turning left to turning right. 

 

You can feel an inflection point if you’re slowing down as you approach a stop light, but then the light turns green, so you start accelerating. The transition from slowing down to speeding up is the inflection point. 

 

What’s the inflection point we will all experience shortly? Since this past December 21, the amount of daylight has been increasing. But not only increasing, it’s been increasing at an increasing rate. In early January we got an extra minute daily. As we approach the first day of spring (March 20), we are gaining 3 minutes daily. Once we enter spring, the length of days will continue increasing, but increasing at a decreasing rate. 

 

Not to worry, both equinoxes are inflection points. In September, the days will continue getting shorter until Dec 21, but they will be getting shorter more slowly. 

 

Why are inflection points important? Suppose a graph (a curve) represents the overall welfare of a person’s life. One would think that a higher graph (better welfare) would lead to more happiness. But not the case! Studies have shown, for example, that a lottery winner and an amputee are equally happy several months after their life-changing events. Surprising? 

 

Instead, happiness seems more tied to the CHANGE in a person’s welfare. A sick person on the road to recovery is generally in good spirits. For those who watch stocks, if the market goes up on a particular day (even if down for the year), it makes one happy. Similarly, a person enjoying a luxury vacation can get bummed by burnt toast. 

 

How do inflection points and concavity affect us? I submit that they are related to our hopefulness. Again, consider your stocks. If after bad economic news, the stock market goes down daily 300, then 200, then 100, you may feel badly for the decrease, but the trend makes you hopeful that it’s reaching the bottom of the “S” and in coming days it will start increasing again. 

 

Understanding that hopefulness is related to inflection points, you can perhaps appreciate why during COVID epidemiologists were concerned about them. They accepted that lots of folks had COVID, they even accepted that the number was increasing weekly. But they were carefully watching the rate of increase. Even though the number of COVID cases was increasing, the rate of increase was decreasing. So there was hope that eventually the total number would reach the top of the “S” and start declining. Which it did!

 

Our present inflation provides another example. Prices were increasing at an increasing rate. Now prices are still increasing but at a decreasing rate.  Prices had an inflection point. We’re breathing a bit easier as a result. We’re more hopeful that the future will bring economic normality. 

 

This is all good news of sorts. No matter a person’s lot in life, some days are still better than others. And a person’s happiness is tied to those changes. Moreover, even if things are getting worse, if you can see an inflection point coming, there is reason for hope. 

Afraid of Dying?

 HS #91 2023.2.9

 

Afraid of Dying?

 

Last month in her January 14 Holland Sentinel column, Janet Weisiger raised a thought-provoking question: “Are you afraid of dying?”  She detailed her own strong belief in the caring, loving God described in the Bible and in God’s promises such as John 3:16. 

 

I am not presently reading through the Bible yearly as she is, but I know it well.  While in college, I wrote my own four-notebook commentary covering the entire Bible using (and recommending!) the three-year daily study guide “Search the Scriptures” by Intervarsity Press.  

 

Yes indeed, the Bible makes claims about eternal life. There are explicit New Testament references such as Jesus telling his disciples (John 14:2) that he will prepare a place for them. But there are Old Testament hints as well - even in the most ancient book of the Bible, Job.   After Job’s time of trial allowed by God which stripped Job of all that he had, God restores to Job double the wealth, double the flocks, double the herds, BUT just the same number of children who had died.  Was that because the dead children still lived in the afterlife – so Job’s number of children had in fact doubled too? 

 

However, Weisiger and I do apparently differ in our epistemologies, perhaps depending on our respective personalities. 

 

I am skeptical about drawing conclusions of things unseen.  Being honest with myself, I don’t share Weisiger’s confidence in the things she believes about God and the afterlife. Instead, I question if there is a creator God of the universe, or whether the physical universe itself is the ultimate thing. Either is possible. It’s a toss-up.

 

If a creator God exists, is God a personal God who loves and watches and cares for us and “knows the number of hairs on our heads” (easy in my case)? Or is God possibly a deistic God, as believed by some of our Founding Fathers, who made the world and is now letting it go of its own accord?  Either is possible. Note that the lack of present-day miracles is not a case against a personal God. Consider a farmer’s relationship to his fields. There are special times when the farmer is active – planting, weeding, harvesting, but otherwise the attentive, ever-present farmer carefully watches. Similarly, the Biblical record suggests a loving God who has been active at crucial times in the history of the world, but otherwise lets it run much on its own without obvious interference. 

 

If a personal God does exist, is God as described in the Christian Bible? There are other monotheistic religions with different claims. Jewish faith, for example, places little emphasis or belief in the afterlife. Their faith, as I understand, is much more rooted in this present existence. 

 

And even within the realms of Christian belief, there are questions about life beyond this. Once when I pressed for an answer, a pastor told me, “We will remain in God’s love.” That was as specific as the pastor claimed. 

 

Lots of uncertainty. So to answer Weisiger’s question, I am not afraid of dying – but for reasons different than hers. 

 

Accepting that this life is possibly all there is frees one from the unease of hoping for more without being sure. Some may be energized by “things hoped for; the evidence of things not seen.” (Heb 11:1)   But for others, including myself, uncertainty generates disquietude. It feels better to learn to be content with what one has – this present life. This was the wisdom of Epicurus. 

 

But how to be content?  Briefly, I don’t feel robbed that I was not alive to experience life in the 1800s. Similarly, I accept that I will not live to experience the 2100s. I accept that I am experiencing a brief bit of the universe right NOW. So I want to make the most of it by living fully in the present while hopefully impacting the future world for good.  Then I will die satisfied.  

 

Interestingly, mathematics offers another consolation of sorts.  Using the logarithmic scale, human size is about halfway between the smallest thing (Plank’s quantum distance) and the largest (the universe itself). That is, we are as many times larger than the smallest thing as the entire universe is larger than us.   But in contrast, a typical human lifespan (70-80 years) is a full 85% of the way along the logarithmic scale from the smallest quantum time unit to the age of the universe.  Not bad! Take advantage!

35 Years Living in Community

 HS #90 2023.1.12

 

35 Years Living in Community

 

As I write this, I’m watching the original Star Wars movie on TV.  I didn’t realize when viewing it as a sophomore in college that the theme of the trilogy is friendship. When Luke chooses C-3P0, his fearless droid friend R2-D2 rocks back and forth in anxiety fearing he will lose his companion. At C-3P0’s suggestion, Luke takes R2-D2 also, so the two friends stay together. 

 

Friendship binds the humans as well. Hans Solo foregoes his own plans for the sake of his new friends, and Luke’s dedication to friends gives him the spirit and power to defeat the emperor. 

 

And I just saw an ad for “The Wizard of Oz.” Friendship is its theme too. Dorothy realizes that love of faithful friends, family and home are the only things worth living for. 

 

Yes, we are meant to live in community with friends. 

 

Indeed, why am I watching Star Wars on TV?  I own the DVD; I can watch it anytime. But it feels good knowing others are sharing the experience. I endure commercials for the sake of (unseen) community. I can even appreciate being stuck in traffic realizing that the entire lineup of vehicles is a spontaneously formed community of sorts – each of us dependent upon the actions of the others. 

 

It was this desire for community that brought me to Holland 35 years ago this week. 

 

After completing my Ph.D. in mathematics at Iowa State University in 1987, I received employment offers from Hope College and two state universities. Having done my higher education at public universities, I was tempted to make one my career home. But I was fascinated by the prospect of living an integrated life in a community where my colleagues were also my neighbors.

 

Having grown up as a PK, we moved several times during my childhood. Thus, perhaps I value more than most the opportunity to have lived in Holland for 35 years – most of it in the same brick ranch on East 12^th Street. There is something rich about riding my bicycle around town noting the homes of friends and neighbors – some departed, of walking through the cemetery on 16^th Street among increasing numbers of engraved names of longtime friends and colleagues. Indeed, my life is enriched as I live surrounded by ghosts who speak to me providing memories from the past. 

 

How neat to live several blocks from where my father and grandfather went to college and seminary. I served as a Resident Director in Archie/Cosmo Hall for five years – those were the fraternities of which they were members. 

 

How rich to have spent over 30 years celebrating holidays with my cousins at the home of my (now 94-year-old) aunt, seeing my cousin’s young boys grow to have children of their own. 

And to have a former colleague tell me recently that he prays for me as he passes my home on his daily run. 

 

There is richness in long enduring relationships. 

 

On the other hand, I tell students that the best way to learn is by keeping one foot on firm ground while venturing into unknown water with the other. That is, we should explore new territory while staying connected and secure with the old and familiar. 

 

Similarly, some relationships and communities are eventually replaced by new ones. Since coming to Holland, I have taught at four different colleges, sung in six different choirs, and changed churches. New hobbies also bring new communities. Racquetball and ultimate frisbee partners have given way to pickleball and kayaking friends. Since 2015, writing this monthly column has formed new connections.  Few of these changes were planned in advance, and that very fact makes the future both hopeful and exciting. Retirement will bring losses, but also new opportunities and relationships. Even as life changes, new communities emerge and buoy us up. 

 

What about you? Teddy Roosevelt’s daughter said her father would be the bride at every wedding, the corpse at every funeral. Yes, it’s hard to attend a wedding or funeral without thinking of oneself. M.C. Escher’s self-portrait shows his reflection front and center in a crystal globe held in his outstretched hand. We are all the central image in our own lives. 

 

So even as you, my Holland neighbors, read my life details, I hope and assume that you have been remembering similar stories and evolving communities of your own. As life changes, we are blessed to live in community – with each other.