In reading Albert Einstein’s biography by Walter Isaacson, the chapter “Einsten’s God” provides some answers to the question he was plagued with again and again by adoring fans who wanted to know if he believed in God. Here, in this chapter, lie some quotes by Einstein that articulate some of what I’ve been sensing about the New Atheism (religious) movement:

The fanatical atheists are like slaves who are still feeling the weight of their chains which they have thrown off after hard struggle. They are creatures who – in their grudge against traditional religion as the ‘opium of the masses’- cannot hear the music of the spheres.

You may call me agnostic, but I do not share the crusading spirit of the professional atheist whose fervor is mostly due to a painful act of liberation from the fetters of religious indoctrination received in youth.

That last quote is telling. Einstein raises two important points about understanding atheism as a religious movement. Let me deal with the first one.

‘The crusading spirit of the professional atheist.’ In my experience, militant atheists are crusaders for their cause, which is potentially saying something more than they are evangelists. Evangelical atheists want to liberate us religious folk from our delusional ways. Crusading atheists do same but with a venom in their sting. They try to convert not by means of logic and appeal, but by derision and ridicule. In other words, persecution. Now, one wonders how effective they would be if they realized that mocking someone about a belief is THE most ineffective way of getting them to abandon that belief?

The distinguishing mark between your average atheist and one gripped by religious fervour is their intention to get into your head and convert you. I mean, if you don’t believe in a God, why spend so much time arguing against a God? This paradox possibly adds some light onto how some atheists mis-associate themselves i.e. they are probably more antitheists than atheists?

This brings me into Einstein’s second point, the reason why people becomes professional atheists, ‘whose fervor is mostly due to a painful act of liberation from the fetters of religious indoctrination received in youth.’

Pain is a massive motivator for action. For example, children who suffer at the hand of abusive parents or perpetrators sometimes go on to become counselors and psychologists. Why? Well, to aid in the healing of such wounds in other people. It’s a legitimate motivation.

The same is true for some (if not most) atheists.

Indoctrination is their wound. They are offended that they were forced to believe in a God that they now purport to realize, doesn’t exist.

Now, being offended by indoctrination is a legitimate beef to have in some respects. People believe in some very strange things due to indoctrination. But, there’s a difference between Christian indoctrination and education, and I wonder how many atheists have perceived education (which allows for a dissociation from that knowledge) as indoctrination? But, I’ll also admit that there are legitimate cases of indoctrination that are just plain wrong. I’m in no way defending indoctrination here, but merely suggesting that a subjective assessment of what is or isn’t indoctrination is problematic.

And so, the combination of a (often unconscious) crusading spirit and liberated fervour leads to a potent mixture in today’s New Atheists.

Again, one is lead to believe, based on personal experience, that these atheists are not interested in freeing us from our delusional ways for the sake of our own health (as the psychologists I mentioned above do), but more for their own righteousness. That is, they are more interested in converting us in an act of proving themselves right, than caring for what we believe.

If atheists actually gave a damn about who we are, developed some of that ‘healing touch’ and showed us how the freedom they bring will make us better people AND improve our lives, they may be more effective crusaders.

Just maybe.

This got me thinking (again) about what Richard Rohr has to say about the two stages of life, narcism, ego development and whether we think we are the centre of the world. For a toddler, they have to be the centre of the world. It’s a prerequisite for ego and identity development. It’s the incessant “Look at me, look at me!” of toddlers at play. Daniel, at nearly two, is all about that. His daily word count is made up primarily of “Look Daddy!”, repeated ad nauseum. He jumps. Look Daddy. He sits. Look Daddy. He goes to sleep. Look Daddy.

And this is somehow all fine. It’s kinda cute, and we know it is essential to growing up.

Then however, as Rohr points out, if a 50-year old walks into a room and says,  ”Look at me and listen to my story” it is not okay.It is not okay for someone in the second half of life to want to be the centre of attention. Rather, our job then is to dish out the attention, not attract it. It’s the mark of a “great” grandparent … they dole out the attention, not expecting it in return.

As I’m now occupying the cusp between the 1st and 2nd stages of life I’m wondering how one transitions from wanting to be the centre of the world (which I wouldn’t mind) and becoming less attached the the prescripts of my ego.

And so sadly, at the end of all this, you probably don’t give a shit what I think anyway. I’m now in the second half of life, and I’m okay with that.

What has been lurking below the surface is best described as a feeling of loss regarding novelty. Let me give you an example. I love epic movies. The Lord of the Rings Trilogy  was a serious highlight for me during the years in which they were released. There is just something about the opening scens of an epic movie that move me! Movies just don’t move me like that anymore. The novelty of that experience has now become, well, bland. I’ve been drawn to Richard Rohr’s teachings on Adult Christianity where he teaches about the two stages of life and spirituality. I’ve now realised that feeling associated with a loss of novelty in life is actually a symptom of my transition into the second stage of my life. 

One of my favourite quotes by Rohr is that, “We’ll all become old fools. We have a choice though between becoming a grumpy old fool, or a wise old fool”. I love that, and for a while it’s been a goal of mine to become the latter. But there is something weird in hearing a teaching about the second stage of life, that begins at roughly 35 years old, while being on the younger side of that liminal point. Now that I’m nearing that point, with a few years to spare, listening to the teachings again has much more meaning, and in a significant way, his words make more sense.

The basic idea is this: our lives are segmented into two halves, broadly. There is the building up phase until about the age of 35 and then thereafter there is the integration phase (although I’m tempted to say it’s the breaking down phase) for the next 30 or 40 years of our life. Rohr articulates wonderfully how our ego, drives and ambition are absolutely necessary processes and how we need to go through those phases in order to really understand the Gospel of Jesus, and to follow what Jesus asks of us. For example, we need to have a life in order to lose it. We need to have an identity to lose, and so forth.

A scriptural example of this transition can be found in Solomon’s writing in the Book of Ecclesiastes. He begins with the powerful maxim, “Everything is meaningless”. Now read the first chapter in light of what I wrote about the loss of novelty above.

¹ The words of the Teacher, son of David, king in Jerusalem:

² “Meaningless! Meaningless!”
says the Teacher.
“Utterly meaningless!
Everything is meaningless.”

³ What do people gain from all their labours
at which they toil under the sun?
⁴ Generations come and generations go,
but the earth remains forever.
⁵ The sun rises and the sun sets,
and hurries back to where it rises.
⁶ The wind blows to the south
and turns to the north;
round and round it goes,
ever returning on its course.
⁷ All streams flow into the sea,
yet the sea is never full.
To the place the streams come from,
there they return again.
⁸ All things are wearisome,
more than one can say.
The eye never has enough of seeing,
nor the ear its fill of hearing.
⁹ What has been will be again,
what has been done will be done again;
there is nothing new under the sun.
¹⁰ Is there anything of which one can say,
“Look! This is something new”?
It was here already, long ago;
it was here before our time.
¹¹ No one remembers the former generations,
and even those yet to come
will not be remembered
by those who follow them.

This text is traditionally read with a lamenting sense that the writer is both right and wrong. He is right in the sense that there is really nothing new under the sun and that there is a repetition to our world that can be tiresome and worrisome. People interpret him as being wrong in that, with a knowledge of God’s work in the world, everything is meaningful. This latter interpretation is the easier one to assimilate into a faith position. However, as I’m now transitioning into this second stage of life, I’m connecting deeply with the writer’s sentiments, but not in a depressing way.

In many ways I’ve achieved what my ego (in the psychological sense) has set out to do. I’m happily married. I have an amazing son. I’ve built a successful business. I’ve got a lovely home, drive a great car and financially am relatively settles. I’ve achieved much, and yet in the midst of all this, there is a question that rises regarding the meaning of it all. What is next? Where to from here? Is my life rhythm destined to be linked to the rhythms of nature i.e. I move from day to day doing the same things, or is there more to this?

Rohr links some of the nasty characteristics of the first stage of life (e.g. an exclusionary approach to religion) with the possibility of not really encountering the Gospel of Jesus. I wonder if that is the challenge I’m experiencing? The invitation is there to encounter Jesus in a new way.

Then, as I’m writing these words a text arrives from a fellow Christ-follower, who connects to the Big Man in profound ways. The text reads:

I sense God is so proud of you, for who you are, and the man you have become. I hear Him saying that He loves the way you apply your mind to things to discover the unseen perspectives. He sees the worship in that. He says He misses the playfulness of an unencumbered heart.

The unseen perspectives part is timely because I left a discussion last night feeling like I was crazy for promoting an idea I feel a calling for, but that’s another story. The last bit about playfulness is even more pertinent considering the loss of novelty I’ve been sensing.

Have I really lost a sense of novelty, or have I lost a playfulness that comes hand in hand with the freedom that Jesus gives?

How’s that for a rhetorical question?

So one of the first things I did after getting the text was to go and stomp in some puddles with Daniel. More of that please.

One aspect of 2012 I chose to influence, knowing full well that the majority of the year would escape my will and end up panning out the way it will, was to refurbish my portal into the interweb. And so, thanks to the design prowess of Anthony van Beek, the new look aidencholes.com is open to the world … enjoy.

However, this is also an annoyance. Why? Well, because some friends do tell me what they’re up to via Facebook, BUT they tell me things I cannot possibly be interested in. Ever. Status updates about the latest Manchester United game don’t tell me anything about your life (but they do tell me about who you really are by supporting a game whose ball is the wrong shape!). An update about what you’re eating in no way deepens our friendship. The fact that it is the weekend and that you’re going to relax big time is well, the same fact for all of us at that same point in time (except that Einstein’s special theory of relativity would argue with this).

When I haven’t seen you for years, and crave the connectedness that Facebook provides, I’m really not interested in the food cravings you’re suffering from, or the only slightly interesting food you’re eating at the moment.

Is it too much to want some level of meaningful status updates along with the boring and banal?

I mean, if by some means I had just picked you up in my car and that we hadn’t seen each other in a while. You wouldn’t ordinarily tell me, as the conversation starter, how you so loved the amazing ice cream your mom brought home last night?

Ok, so maybe you would. And that would be the last time we road trip together.

Nonetheless, I have no doubt that there are immeasurably more interesting aspects of your life to share on Facebook, no?

Einstein would finish his day’s work within a few hours and spend the rest of the time “hatching [his] most beautiful ideas”. His desk would be littered with papers containing scribbles that he would stuff into his desk drawer when colleagues would come by. His boss over looked this. His work was being done.

Being outside of the academic institution allowed Einstein to develop ideas that would not have been received well from within the institution, as they were both critical and contrary to currently held theories.

So, if you are wondering how to spurn a culture of innovation in your company, take a lesson from Einstein. Put your employees (or at least some of them) into cubicles, give them repetitive work that they can finish in a few hours and then let them play.

Jesus is the microcosm; Christ is the macrocosm.  There is a movement from Jesus to the Christ that you and I have to imitate and walk, as well.  A lot of us have so fallen in love with the historical Jesus that we worship him as such and stop there.  We never really followed the same journey which he made, which is the death and resurrection journey—Jesus died and Christ arose.

Unless we make the same movement that Jesus did, from his one single life to his risen and transformed state, we probably don’t really understand what we mean by the Christ—and how we are part of the deal! That is why he said “follow me.”  The Jesus that you and I participate in, are graced by, and are redeemed by is the RISEN Jesus who has become the Christ, which is an inclusive statement about all of us and all of creation.  Stay with this startling truth in the days ahead and it will rearrange your mind and heart and change the way you see everything, because you are the Christ Mystery too!

Here are some reflections on the experience of being a first time share investor – it’s a story of frustrations (mainly) and a bunch of unanswered questions (that no one seems to ever tell you about). Many of these reflections would be “duh, didn’t you know?” kind of things for the experienced traders, but I am a novice and hopefully these reflections will assist some newbies in cracking it into a generally unfriendly field.

Firstly, being the stubbornly independent man I am, I opted to go direct. No brokers and no intermediaries. So I signed up for an account with PSG. The fees seemed reasonable and all the power rests in your hands as an investor. However, it took me 2 months to get through their FICA processes and general lack of speed and follow-through on instructions. Then, when I eventually got my equity account up and running (oh, yes, that’s the first thing they don’t tell you – you have to open an equity account to trade out of), their online shares management system is a mind f%$# for a newbie. Not being told I need to deposit money into my new equity account (assuming it would just be debited off my bank account) I tried to buy shares, but the orders would just disappear. I eventually found out after calling a consultant (who was clearly not used to speaking to people who know very little about the process) in desperation that if I don’t specify for how long my order is valid, it falls off the system.

I remember being at a breakfast shortly after the 2008 financial metldown where Bobby Godsell commented about the masses of wealth that had been lost in the stock markets at the time. He wondered where the money disappeared to, and if it isn’t real money, but phantom wealth, what does that really say about our financial system? So, I buy a share. It either gains or loses value over time. But I don’t possess anything (besides a PSG webpage) that proves I own a share in company X. As soon as I hand over my money, the money becomes “phantomised”.

Having only played the shares game for a month or two now I have seen my share portfolio drop by 20% in value, and claw it’s way back by 10%. I’m still sitting at a 10% nett loss at the moment. I ahve heard however that over a 10 year period, shares are likely to out perform a property investment portfolio. But that’s 10 years. My time has been short lived sure, and I need to be patient indeed, AND I’ve invested at a time when the stock markets have been taking a battering anyway. But still, unless you’re willing to spend all day looking at the indices and trading like a dog, making money is a long haul.

You’ll often hear the market reports on the radio speaking of how the markets are on the up, or how a particular share has performed really well on that day (making a 2 or 3% jump in value). Well, this is only good news in relation to what you initially paid for a share. If you suffer a 20% loss (like I did) and a share now makes a 2% positive jump, I’m still losing.

There you go. Some (naive) reflections on being a share trader.

At 22h15 this evening I would have been a father to Daniel James Choles for exactly one year.

Happy birthday my boy.

You’re down for a nap now (on the afternoon we were meant to spend together), and if there’s one thing I’ve learnt in the last year it is to capitalise on opportunities when they present themselves. Sleep when you sleep, etc.  So, I’m using this time to reflect on our journey together so far as father and son.

As I think of my life so far, I have to rank the memory of delivering you on 4th April 2010 as one of the most amazing highlights. Yes, I delivered you.

Well, I helped at least. I put my hands around your body and helped pull you out of the womb in those seconds in which you transitioned into this world.

Last night I sat down to work through all the video footage we have of your first year. Your mom and I are putting a dvd together for the family of all the significant events and moments they may have missed. Your first smile. Sitting for the first time. Standing for the first time. Rolling over. Your first few steps. The list goes on.

I have found life taking on a different hue in those moments. Nothing else seemed to matter.

While fatherhood is a massive task, I have tried to be gentle, encouraging and fun. There are however two things that I see as being critical in our times together in the future:

A motivational speaker recently said that the father’s job is to ensure that his children retain a sparkle in their eye. This sums up what fatherhood is about for me, but I don’t have a clue how to keep that sparkle you have at the moment.

At some stage or another I will cease to be your hero. This is how life is. You will at some point see (quite clearly I’m sure) all my faults (which you had not seen before). Again, I don’t have a clue how to prepare for that moment, but I am trusting that by that stage you would only see my as your earthly father. That, by then, you would have discovered who your real Daddy is, Yahweh.

I pray for Our Lord’s strength and guidance as we journey together in life, one step at a time.

I love you Daniel.

There has been a growing media frenzy over this fee as people do the calculations of how much it will cost them to simply get around Gauteng in a day. I have no issue with tolling in general as I understand that our taxes do not subsidise road maintenance sufficiently. However, it seems to me that SANRAL is being less than honest about how they arrived at a figure of 66c/km. It sounds like one massive thumb-suck. At no point have they offered a justification of why 66c/km is vital or needed. Rather, my sense is that they want 50c/km but anticipate a massive public outcry and will at some point soon claim the moral high ground by announcing a fee reduction back down towards 50c/km.

I’m glad the public reaction is growing – and so it should even more. I myself have chosen to sign a petition at www.tollgatepetition.org.za to protest that is aiming to reduce the fee per kilometre as well as grow awareness of the injustice of the system.

Maybe SANRAL could use the extra cash to pay for better copy writers since the abysmal efforts in the first two lines of their Toll document i.e. “Traffic on Gauteng’s freeways are steadily increasing, thereby creating more congestion and stunting the growth of the economy. Peak hours are extended with approximately 15 minutes every year and roads are exceeding there life span.”

A caller phoned into Talk Radio 702 this morning and spoke of how it costs us 29c/km in tolls to use the freeway network (N3) down to Durban. Now, why can we not have a similar figure to maintain the Gauteng freeways?