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Remember the old TV series Cops? In every episode a perpetrator caught red-handed on camera whined that they had done nothing wrong. Now it is the refrain of people in high elective office, business executives, and a variety of celebrities.

What do you suppose “I have done nothing wrong” means? Does it mean they have done nothing illegal? Perhaps they’ve done nothing immoral or unethical. Maybe it means “I didn’t mean to get caught” or “where did I go wrong?”  However intended, it is an evasive answer conveying no useful information.

Whenever I hear it from someone being interrogated by reporters it is a clear sign that, yes, they have done something wrong. Suspicions are verified when they suddenly disappear from the public scene to “spend more time with my family.”

The wealthiest and most powerful seem to be the people with the loudest voices calling for others to take responsibility and be held accountable for their actions. In the meantime, they are the most adept at avoiding either. Are they any different than the perpetrator caught on Cops? Yes, they stand a good chance of getting away with it. True enough, every now and then one gets taken down, but it’s just a sign for the rest of them to lie low for a few months before resuming business as usual.

How refreshing it would be if a few prominent people would take the responsibility and accept accountability for their actions. After all, it’s what they demand of ordinary Americans and frequently accuse them of avoiding. To be honest, all of us learned in childhood the art of ducking and weaving to avoid responsibility and accountability. “Not me” was the usual culprit followed by big brothers, little sisters, the dog, the cat, or the kid next-door. Learning to be responsible and accept accountability is one of the most important, often painful, and lengthy lessons we learned in order to become responsible adults. I don’t know that we ever learned it completely and there are some who have never learned.

A reputation and future prosperity of prominent public figures depends in part on their ability to keep the integrity of their image intact. It is why, from peccadilloes to felonies, they are inclined to do whatever they can to avoid being found out and deny it all if they are.

I imagine it has always been that way. What makes today’s environment a little different is the number of powerful wealthy people who flagrantly commit felonies in public view while boldly asserting they have done nothing wrong. Minions of followers cheering them on as a majority of other public figures standby saying nothing out of fear of recrimination.

It makes a mockery of the “home of the free and land of the brave.” It is offensive to the civic virtues we were taught in school as emblematic of the American way. It violates the teachings of every major religious tradition. 

It would be ridiculous to expect moral perfection. We have all sinned and fallen short of the glory of God. As the writer of the first letter of John put it “if we say we have no sin we deceive ourselves and the truth is not in us.”  It is unacceptable  to tolerate the current state of affairs as normative excusing it as “that’s just the way things are.” Systemic corruption leads inevitably to the collapse of a nation. The middle class fades away, workers are impoverished, and the poor become destitute. That isn’t what we want but it is the future toward which we are headed at the present time. There is nothing inevitable about it but the time to turn and go in a better way is now.

Most of us wonder about the meaning of our lives. We want them to be meaningful to us, self satisfying, and it’s gratifying when meaning is affirmed by public acclaim.  But questions about whether one’s life has purpose that benefits others? The two—meaning and purpose—are related, but not the same. A life deeply meaningful and satisfying to the self, while also benefiting the well-being of others, may be the most fulfilling of all. But it need not be that way. A life meaningful to oneself might offer no apparent benefit to others. In its corrupted form, it will be harmful to self and others. Likewise, a life committed to serving a necessary purpose can be a life of joyless drudgery—and in its corrupted form, may  serve a malevolent goal.

Most people hope to lead a self-satisfying, meaningful life that also serves a useful purpose in society. Some thinkers, emotionally worn down by the inhumanity of economic depression and global war, concluded that life had no meaning and served no purpose. However influential their views were for a time, the resilience of human nature—and its universal desire and hope for meaning and purpose—could not be extinguished. The question of how one’s life can have meaning and purpose continues to dominate the human horizon. The so-called midlife crisis is one expression of its persistent presence.

I suspect these questions are always lurking in the back of our minds, but they tend to come forward at three key stages in life. The first is during the teenage years, when the cusp of adulthood is in sight, but hormonal and physical changes, peer pressure, and the lure of new adventures raise the questions: Who am I? Where am I going? The answers at that age tend to be shaped more by imagination than reason.

The second stage comes a few years later, as the responsibilities of adulthood become real. Here I am—but what does my life mean? How can I make something of this and is this all there is? How do I compare with others like me?

The third major stage arrives with retirement. Many come to recognize that their lifetime accumulation of skill, knowledge, and wisdom—combined with physical and mental energy that resists too much rest—leads to a desire for renewed meaning and purpose.

The answer to living a meaningful, purposeful life is always unique to each person. Yet some unifying principles remain.

Created in the image of God, we are called out of love to be agents of love in a world desperate for it. Love expressed in words and deeds brings healing, reconciliation, and a measure of godly peace that surpasses all understanding. The variety of words and deeds that fulfill God’s call is without number. We don’t need to search far for them—they are present in what we say and do every day. Doors of opportunity don’t have to be hunted down as they’re constantly placed before us. Whether we notice them or choose to walk through them is another matter—but they are there.

There are, however, a few caveats.

A life of purpose that benefits others cannot be for them if it is not also with them. That means their needs, desires, and ways of doing things must be respected and given precedence. Purposeful acts imposed upon others “for their own good” rarely succeed and often backfire.

We are called to be agents of God’s grace—but as caregivers, not cure-givers. God’s healing and reconciling power may work through what we say and do, but it is God’s power, not ours. We are not present to fix what we think is wrong in someone else’s life.

Self-care is essential to a meaningful, purposeful life. Attending to what is personally meaningful—even if it serves no immediate benefit to others—is vital.  Yet, because we are social creatures not meant to live in isolation, life becomes even more powerful when shared with others. Participating in meaningful activities with others strengthens both our sense of purpose and our connection to the world around us.

No one can serve two masters; for a slave will either hate the one and love the other, or be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve God and wealth. (Matthew 6)

They promise them freedom, but they themselves are slaves of corruption; for people are slaves to whatever masters them. (2 Peter 2)

Do you not know that if you present yourselves to anyone as obedient slaves, you are slaves of the one whom you obey, either of sin, which leads to death, or of obedience, which leads to righteousness? (Romans 6)

There is something in human nature that resists commands to be obedient. It begins early, as soon as a toddler learns to say “no!” Commands of obedience and our deep desire for freedom seem locked in an eternal struggle. In a recent conversation a friend told me he didn’t like being bossed around and admitted he wasn’t a very obedient person. He liked being the one to make decisions. It was an honest confession and I think he spoke for many of us. None of us can avoid circumstances that require obedience—it’s simply part of life. Yet we secretly admire the rebel, the one who makes his or her own rules, and the heroic figure who gets away with it.

Living in relationship with others requires some form of obedience to the rules that govern relationships and communities. We cannot escape it. Children are taught to obey parents and teachers. Every workplace has a boss, and every boss has a boss. Witnesses in court must swear to tell the truth—an oath of obedience to the law. Elected officials take oaths of obedience to constitutions and the laws of the land. Military organizations are built on oaths of obedience. Physicians, lawyers, and other professionals swear obedience to codes of ethics. Marriage vows are oaths of obedience. Democratic nations cannot exist without adherence to the rule of law. Even more powerful than formal oaths are the social norms we were raised under—norms that impose rules of obedience, for good or ill, and dominate our subconscious. Most of us try to be good people doing the right things for the right reasons, which is itself a form of obedience.

“To thine own self be true,” wrote Shakespeare, and it’s good advice—if not taken to the extreme. Those who are obedient only to themselves are the most to be feared and pitied. They have a cruel dictator for a boss and are likely to be cruel to others in all they say and do. Psychiatric illnesses and addictions, too, can make some of us obedient to what the ancients would have called demonic forces.

The question then is: to whom or what is one obedient? How can one be obedient and also fully free? The answer is to place obedience to God’s way of love above all other demands of obedience.

Kings and emperors come in many forms—crowned and self-made—offering security, wealth, power, and position in exchange for obedience. But coercive punishment is their only tool of enforcement. Only God in Christ Jesus comes in love, out of love, offering abundant life through obedience to the way of love that Jesus laid before us.  Jesus did not come to condemn or coerce but to save that we might have life and have it in abundance.

As Roman emperors clung desperately to the last remnants of their power, it became clear that those who desired to live free, full lives in the way of the Cross had to seek something entirely different. Saint Benedict had a profound insight when he recognized the universality of obedience as essential to forming a community where a full, free life in Christ could flourish. True freedom and full expression of the self in its most wholesome form are found when one surrenders in obedience to following Christ. Benedict did this through a simple rule of life for the monks in his monastery, creating room for full freedom to thrive.

Not everyone is called to the monastery—certainly not me—but for me and many others, his rule provides a useful guideline for daily life and for interpreting the kinds of obedience required of us in the secular world most of us inhabit. The rule set in place a routine in which time is set aside for adequate rest, work, study and reflection, relaxation, and nourishment. It establishes rules of behavior toward one another that honors the dignity of every human being as made in the image of God. It commands hospitality to the stranger and care for the sick and impoverished.

It is not a life removed from the world but one engaged in it—working to make God’s kingdom more present to others in whatever ways possible. It is a way of living in which we are called to be agents of God’s kingdom for others—not to force it upon them, but to embody it. It seeks the common good for all, with special care for the poor, the neglected, the oppressed, and the marginalized. One cannot go wrong crafting a rule of life for oneself based on the rule of Benedict.

Medieval and early modern European culture understood the coexistence of physical and spiritual reality. It echoed the many gods and goddesses that populated pagan religions in pre-Christian times. Christian faith may have abolished the polytheism of earlier eras but retained a deep understanding of the mystical relationship between the physical and spiritual. Throughout Europe—especially in Britain—that relationship was expressed in the sacredness of creation and in the belief in “thin places” where the physical and spiritual could be intimately experienced.

Science, reason, and theology have taken us far from the wisdom embedded in those ancient beliefs—and not without justification. Those were also years of magical thinking, bizarre myths, and ghosties and ghoulies and things that go bump in the night. But while science and reason rightly quashed the nonsense, they also deprived us of the deeper wisdom hidden within it.

The subject came up in a recent conversation about the gods and goddesses in Hawaiian culture. Hawaiians may be faithful Christians in every way, but if you ask them about Pele—the goddess of the volcanoes that formed the islands—they will say she is real. It means the land itself holds a sacred spiritual reality, just as humans do. Hawaiians have preserved and reinterpreted their ancient wisdom for today and are adamant about restoring sacred care of the ‘āina,’ the land. Our conversation focused on Hawaii, but something similar is happening among American Indian tribes across North America. They, too, have preserved mythological wisdom and are reframing it to meet the needs of contemporary society. We should listen closely because they have something vital to share with the European-based Western culture that dominates the global economy—and therefore dictates how creation is used and abused.

Christians—especially Anglicans and British Catholics—have a solid foundation on which to restore and reframe ancient wisdom to guide humanity in a better direction. Celtic Britain carried the same wisdom through pagan goddesses of the land and animals, such as Danu and Ériu. Celtic Christianity adapted that pagan wisdom to express the profound meaning of being created in the image of God and of being accountable to God for the stewardship of creation.

Humanity, the land, and all creatures coexist in such a way that the well-being of each depends on mutual respect for the physical and spiritual reality of the others. Humanity bears a special responsibility because we are the only creatures capable of independent, willful action that affects the entirety of creation. If we choose wisely, we can do great good; but our predatory instincts also enable us to do great harm. Creation may lack willful independence, but it can—and does—react to protect itself as best it can. The ancient goddesses themselves were not real, but the spirit they represented was real then and is real today. That wisdom is what the Western world must recover and adopt—not merely as a sacred obligation but as a practical necessity.

It’s important not to be misled by contemporary social and religious fads that use the words and symbols of ancient wisdom to construct imitation beliefs—things people play-act until the next fad comes along. Imitation Celtic neo-paganism seems to be the current one. Recovering a deeper, more profound understanding of the sacredness of creation and our collective responsibility for its care leaves no room for such nonsense.

Rebuilding America is being thrust upon us, whether we want it or not.
It will be a complex task, so I want to highlight just three foundational steps.

First, reconstitute a national ethos of what it means to be an American.
Second, restructure the federal government with an emphasis on efficiency, effectiveness, and customer satisfaction.
Third, elect legislators more committed to good government at a practical level and less to ideological extremism.

It may sound idealistic, but we have little choice. One can only hope it begins before we are forced to endure three and a half more years of Trumpism’s delusional incompetence, as it attempts to replace liberal democracy with oligarchic autocracy.

The Trump administration’s wanton destruction of principle, purpose, and programs has forced us to confront structural problems in government that we’ve known about for decades. We’ve also failed abysmally to teach each generation of Americans the meaning of being American—at least as well as we teach immigrants studying for their citizenship exams. In other words, we created the conditions under which ideological crackpots won elections at every level, conspiracy theories of the most outrageous kind became “alternative truth,” and progressives too often mistook funding and general support for actual results.

Angry discontent with the conditions of life—especially among a large swath of the public—has fueled scapegoating of coastal elites, university intellectuals, the news media, immigrants, and various ethnicities. That discontent is not without cause. The postwar global economy, once dominated by the U.S., has moved on. Rapid technological change has rendered many people’s skills obsolete. For reasons more selfish than ideological, decades of talk radio fomented discontent and incendiary anger—ultimately directed against liberal democracy itself. And here we are.

Reconstituting a national ethos of what it means to be American may be the most difficult of the three. It cannot mean uniformity. It must accommodate regional and ethnic differences, all anchored in central principles. But what might those be?

The Declaration of Independence and the Constitution are good places to start. The Declaration is more than a statement about life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness—it is a clear outline of what a free people cannot tolerate from their government. Its message remains valid. The Constitution, including its amendments, is not only the law of the land; it is the evolving story of how our collective understanding of liberal democracy has developed over the centuries.

Obviously, these essentials must be taught in every classroom—from first grade through graduate school. But we can’t wait for students to grow up to implant a new national ethos. I don’t know how, but some form of civic education must happen now in every adult community across the country. No doubt, you dear readers have good ideas.

Restructuring the federal government may be somewhat easier—only because we have no choice. The old structure, inefficient as it was, has been so corrupted by the current administration that it no longer has structural integrity. It must be rebuilt.

A good place to start might be the civil service. It must remain a nonpartisan, professional institution—responsive to legislative and executive leadership, and committed to customer satisfaction as expressed by the public it serves. It must also be easier for civil servants to be promoted, demoted, transferred, or fired—while still protecting their rights and dignity. The military may offer some guidance here; something similar to its personnel system might be developed. Above all, efficiency and effectiveness must become the primary standards by which civil servant performance is measured.

The legislative process is always messy, never efficient, and often wasteful. That’s one of democracy’s costs. That said, it works best when legislators represent a broad range of views and interests. I have no idea how to create the conditions for candidates of good faith to be elected, but I’ll suggest this much:

Voices of respected public wisdom must do three things to influence both voters and candidates

Lauren Jackson published a fascinating piece in the May 19, New York Times, exploring the many ways in which people search for alternatives to religion. Spiritual hunger persists even in the most secular of societies and it’s not surprising that people seek ways to satisfy it. My gut-level reaction is that there is no true alternative to religion. What is religion, after all, but a set of repetitive words and actions expressing spiritual hope—if not belief?

Religion is so integral to human life that those without it often create something to fill the void. Even confirmed atheists can turn their atheism into a kind of religion. As Jackson noted, people try all sorts of things—yoga, meditation, self-help routines, therapeutic practices. Some are on what they call a “spiritual but not religious” path that, in effect, becomes its own religion. People will make a religion out of almost anything they believe might satisfy their spiritual hunger. The most deluded make themselves their own god.

Everyone who seeks to satisfy spiritual hunger has a religion of some kind. That’s not to say everyone is on such a quest. Some go through life in a state of complacency, never giving spirituality much thought. Others are so overwhelmed by the daily grind that they lack the time and energy to consider spiritual hunger, let alone pursue its satisfaction.

The alternatives people are searching for are not to religion itself, but to the forms of religion expressed through established churches, synagogues, and mosques. As a Christian pastor, I’m well aware that church attendance has been declining for decades—for good and sufficient reason. One segment of the church became complacent in its proclamation of the gospel and provided poor instruction to young people, who grew up to find little of value in what they remembered as Sunday school fables. Another part of the church spent two decades mired in sex abuse scandals, eroding trust and credibility. A third offered a theology of feel-good prosperity, replacing the way of the cross. A fourth battered the faithful with fear of the devil and threats of eternal damnation. All of them challenged the legitimacy of the institutional church as a faithful representative of Jesus Christ.

That would be trouble enough—but it wasn’t the only challenge. The social upheavals of the 1960s and ’70s called into question the legitimacy of all established norms. Churches found themselves particularly ill-equipped to grapple with women’s roles in the church and the complex realities of human sexuality. The resulting debates were heated and divisive. As in every age since time began, accepted social norms were in tension with God’s way of truth, justice, and love. I can understand why many would look elsewhere for spiritual nourishment.

It is axiomatic that one cannot create something more moral than oneself. A religion created by human hands will eventually collapse under the weight of its creators’ own moral flaws. What truly satisfies spiritual hunger—what is undergirded by moral truth—cannot be manufactured. It must be divinely revealed. Prophets and sages have served as the agents of that revelation. Though human and imperfect, their testimony has proven trustworthy through the centuries. Likewise, our capacity to understand divine truth and live it out is limited by our own fallibility and ignorance. Yet the journey toward divine truth is never-ending—and it is a journey of progress.

More recent data suggest that the decline in church attendance has begun to level off, and in some places, even reverse. What has changed—or is changing? I believe there is growing recognition that the institutional church is merely the vessel through which God’s divine truth is proclaimed to the world. The institution and its leaders may stumble, but the light of Christ will not be extinguished. God’s truth will be made known. In Jesus Christ, God’s truth is revealed not only through prophets and sages, but through God incarnate—the Word made flesh.

The fullness of that revelation is beyond our grasp, but the essentials are clear. Spiritual hunger is never fully satisfied, but it is richly fed and nourished by God’s abounding and steadfast love. The way of peace, harmony, and true prosperity is the way of love revealed in all that Jesus taught and commanded. Faith is part belief, part trust—and even faith the size of a mustard seed is enough. No one, at any time or place, is excluded from God’s saving grace. Spiritual practices can assist us on the journey, but making them into a religion unto themselves can obstruct the fuller presence of God in one’s life. Worship, prayer, and community are necessary for spiritual nourishment.

Different denominations express our shared faith in different ways. No one denomination is the true church—but some institutions that call themselves Christian fall far short of the path Jesus set before us.

And what of other religions? It is not ours to limit how God may be working with and through others. We only know the faith that has been entrusted to us—and we want to share it with everyone. Yet we are also called to humility, reminded by the words God spoke through the prophet Isaiah:—Isaiah 55

Seek the Lord while he may be found,
call upon him while he is near;
let the wicked forsake their way,
and the unrighteous their thoughts;
let them return to the Lord, that he may have mercy on them,
and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon.

For my thoughts are not your thoughts,
nor are your ways my ways, says the Lord.

For as the heavens are higher than the earth,
so are my ways higher than your ways
and my thoughts than your thoughts.

For as the rain and the snow come down from heaven,
and do not return there until they have watered the earth,
making it bring forth and sprout,
giving seed to the sower and bread to the eater,

so shall my word be that goes out from my mouth;
it shall not return to me empty,
but it shall accomplish that which I purpose,
and succeed in the thing for which I sent it.

When Jesus was arrested and crucified, it was because of the threat he posed to the power of temple leadership and the authority of Rome. Especially troubling was the growing number of the lower classes who believed Jesus was the rightful King of the Jews by divine appointment, and that he, not Caesar, was Lord. It was nonsense, of course, but troubling just the same.

On Thursday before Easter, Christians reaffirm that what was nonsense to the political leaders of his day was true, and is true today. Jesus is Lord, and his authority is not dependent on any king, president, political party, or popular movement. It means that Jesus and his followers remain a threat to political leaders. Not only will faithful Christians not subordinate The Way of the Cross to political demands, they will continue to advocate for the full dignity of every human being to be recognized by civil authority without discrimination. It has been harder for Christians to equally value the sacredness of creation and humanity’s sacred obligation to care for it, but it is a growing concern that will not be abandoned to the whims of the market.

There are loud voices claiming to be Christian that have allied themselves with secular power, social prejudices, and authoritarian rule. They are false prophets who have misled many who believe they are doing the right thing as they turn away from Calvary and towards Caesar.

That may sound harsh, but it’s intended to be a wake-up call to the truth. It may also sound self-righteous in the extreme, but it is simply a confession that the church has often erred, as has each of us, including me. In this holiest of holy days, it is a call to renew commitment to follow Jesus in the way of love and godly justice as best we are able. Speaking only for myself, the best of my ability is both limited and too often sporadic. I’ll try to do better with God’s help.

“Easter is upon us with colored eggs, chocolate bunnies, brunches, and parades. Amidst the fun, it is for Christians the highest of high holy days. So here is a brief primer on the most important three days in the Christian calendar. They last from sundown on Thursday to sunrise on Sunday and are called The Triduum.

The three day service begins on Thursday evening and commemorates three important events: the establishment of the Eucharist or Holy Communion; the new commandment to love one another as Jesus has loved us; and Christ’s demonstration of what it means to be a servant leader. It is also the evening when Jesus was arrested and taken to temple leaders for a show trial.

It is the evening of the Last Supper, probably a Passover meal, a Seder. During the meal, Jesus did two extraordinary things. First, he took a piece of bread, gave the blessing, broke it, and said, “This is my body given for you.” After supper, he took a cup of wine, said the blessing, and gave it to them, saying, “This is my blood of the new covenant, shed for you and many for the forgiveness of sins.” It sealed the new covenant God had promised through the voice of Jeremiah. Each time we celebrate the Eucharist, Holy Communion, we participate in the blessing of this last supper.

That same night, he washed his disciples’ feet. It was something one could do for oneself but would never do for somebody else. The Lord bending to wash his disciples’ feet demonstrated the servant leadership they were to take up.

Friday, Good Friday, remembers the completion of the trial before temple leaders and the Roman governor Pilate. It follows Jesus’ pathway to Golgotha, the place of execution outside the city gates where he was crucified along with two others. It was a form of execution reserved for the worst of criminals and anyone who incited insurrection.

Christians gather at noon on Friday in a church stripped of all its adornments. They listen to the story of his crucifixion and his burial in a tomb hewn out of rock. It is a time for deep, profound meditation on the meaning of the cross for all humanity.

They gather again for the great vigil of Easter in a darkened church after sundown on Saturday evening. They listen to the story of God’s people from creation through the prophecies of the Messiah who will redeem all of God’s people. Midway through the service, Christ’s resurrection is proclaimed in loud voices, the lights come on, and all the glory of the Easter decorations is revealed. The service continues with hymns, prayers, readings, and joyful celebration of Holy Communion.

The three days are ended. What follows are the traditional Easter Sunday morning services of joyful celebration.”

How can we explain the ease with which Trump has been able to bully big business and major universities into surrendering whatever integrity they claim to have had? Part of the answer lies in the nature of the institutions themselves.

Corporations are legal persons but they are not human beings. They are not moral beings and do not have a conscience. They cannot feel emotions and have no ability to experience or recognize guilt. Whatever morality or ethical standard a corporation appears to possess is derived from its human leadership, whose influence is temporary, lasting only during their tenure.

Standards of behavior with any semblance of permanence or morality exist only through government enforcement. This creates a competitive environment where corporate leaders and their agents strive to minimize regulations that hinder their ability to operate as they see fit, often without regard for the common good or national welfare. Securing special privileges or benefits for the corporation is even more desirable but increases vulnerability to the political whims of persons in high office.

CEOs are legally accountable for operating within regulatory limits, but their compensation is primarily tied to shareholder return on investment. This metric, more important than profitability, is enforced by compensation packages linked to stock prices and stock options. It creates a powerful incentive to subordinate everything else to personal financial reward. It partially explains why major corporate CEOs have been willing to challenge Trump only when the disruptive impact of tariffs posed a greater threat to their financial interests than the destruction of the  government’s ability to serve the needs of the people.

Major universities represent a different scenario. Unlike major corporations, they are part of a centuries-long tradition that emphasizes ethical and moral values as guiding principles. They justifiably pride themselves on becoming world-leading research institutions and providers of advanced education. However, it has come at a cost. They depend heavily on federal grants, often amounting to hundreds of millions of dollars funding their cutting-edge research.  It’s a beneficial symbiotic relationship as long as both parties operate in good faith.  But it makes them vulnerable to political pressure, as demonstrated by their willingness to compromise ethical principles when funding is threatened.

Universities could uphold that tradition if their leadership were unified in the moral courage to collectively resist the Trump administration’s bad-faith immorality. However, the administration’s “divide and conquer” tactics have proven effective; university presidents and boards of trustees have demonstrated a lack of moral fortitude. While they may eventually reclaim their roles as ethical and moral leaders in society, their weak knees and drooping hands are shameful. 

We cannot depend on major corporations and universities to do the right thing. Fortunately, other actors, formal and informal associations dedicated to building up a stronger and more just society, are the defenders of liberal democracy and hope for a better, more promising future. They are more independent of government control and not as vulnerable to financial ruin, represent the needs and interests of individuals and advocate for public policies that promote the common good and general welfare. They are numerous and diverse, with shifting alliances based on specific policy goals.

What distinguishes them from corporate interests is their ethical foundation. Beyond financial responsibility, their accountability stems from those they represent and the needs they articulate. The primary measures of success are: whether their voices are heard, whether they exert real influence, and whether they make a tangible difference. These outcomes are based on trust, acknowledging that progress may alternate with setbacks, but sustained commitment ensures future gains.

The millions who participated in the April 5th demonstrations exemplify their power. Their activities include campaigns to flood politicians’ offices with calls and emails, organize support for candidates, and expose the cruelty of oppressive policies and violations of human and civil rights. Their continued success hinges on maintaining momentum and resisting complacency.  April 5 was a great start and now the hard work begins.

Editing with Gemini

I have been using Gemini for about two months to help edit my articles. It has been working pretty well until my most recent one. In the final editing cycle, Gemini changed some of the language so it no longer reflected my style of writing. The substance of the article is mine; I wrote it. But there are enough stylistic changes to no longer read as I write. I found that disappointing and offensive. Some explanation of why I started using Gemini may be in order.

Writing an article is quite a production for a blind guy typing. I am most comfortable typing but am learning to dictate. I type very fast, but sometimes my thinking gets ahead of my typing, and strange things happen. This can be made worse by my fingers straying to the wrong keys, which they do with some frequency. Dictating should be an improvement, but it turns out Siri has a limited vocabulary of words she knows how to spell, and sometimes doesn’t listen to what I am saying. Moreover, I have to speak slowly, and that disturbs the process of creative thinking. Nevertheless, a rough draft eventually takes form.

I listen to the first draft and try to fix the most egregious errors. As any writer will tell you, this sometimes means cutting out entire sections, rearranging paragraphs, or filling in much-needed transitions between main points. The next step has been for my patient and much-harassed wife to review and edit for me. I make final changes after I have listened to what she has done, and she edits it again before publication… we hope. It’s not like she is sitting around waiting to edit my drafts. She is a professional artist with her own career and demands on her time.

So, a little over two months ago, I began using Gemini to do the initial editing and have been very happy with it until my recent article on messaging to win elections. It is quite a bit longer than most Country Parson articles and has more complicated arguments. I ran it through Gemini and then had my wife read it. She had some very good observations, made a few changes, and suggested I make more. I did and ran it through Gemini again. It still needed some tweaking. When I had finished, I ran it through Gemini a third time and published. It was a mistake.

When I listened to the published piece, I was shocked to hear something I wrote in a style that was not my own. I will keep using Gemini but be much more careful with it in the future. Even this short piece has been run through Gemini.”

Here is what Gemini did for this one:

Here’s a breakdown of the changes:

• Spelling: Corrected “aproductionm” to “production,” “follwoing” to “following,” “a. Eye.” to “AI,” and other typos.
• Punctuation: Added commas, semicolons, and other punctuation for clarity.
• Grammar: Corrected subject-verb agreement and pronoun usage.
• Clarity and Flow: Rephrased some sentences for better readability and flow. Removed redundancies.