Pub Theology 12/10/24 -- Deep thoughts, deeper thinking

Peter Trumbore • December 9, 2024

Those of us of a certain age surely remember the old Saturday Night Live bit, "Deep Thoughts" by comedian Jack Handey, a staple of the show back in the 1990s. Handey's collection of deep thoughts was first published in 1992, and little bits would be aired on SNL in between sketches, accompanied by bucolic imagery like that above, and soothing New Age music, It was a fun gag that produced gems like these:


  • The purpose of a lock is to turn a door into a wall.
  • When you buy and eat a half chicken, you are secretly sharing a meal with a stranger.
  • Your car keys have traveled farther than your car.
  • The object of golf is to play the least amount of golf.
  • With every new sunrise, there is a new chance. But with every sunset, you blew it.


These were clever, often silly, and sometimes actually thought-provoking. It's been suggested that we can train ourselves to become deeper thinkers by asking ourselves, and really trying to contemplate the answers to, what are essentially unanswerable questions. A classic example of one such question is the familiar Zen koan "What is the sound of one hand clapping." Zen monks were instructed to meditate on and debate such cryptic questions, a typically frustrating and maddening exercise, as a way to acquire, through mental struggle, a deeper understanding of the question itself. That was the path to enlightenment.


This discussion comes from a source we've been turning to lately for inspiration for our weekly conversations, a regular feature at The Atlantic website by Arthur C. Brooks, whose pieces revolve around building our lives. In this article, Brooks suggests that we can improve our emotional health and grow as a person by wrestling with our own questions without clear answers. Questions like, Why am I here? or For what would I give my life? And, he continues, the questions that tend to matter the most to us are typically the least likely to have clear answers. In fact, trivial questions are generally easy to answer with clarity. That's why we like them, and shy away from the hard ones.


Further, he argues, thinking about hard questions is good for us:


"Taking the evidence all together, I’d propose a hypothesis that, as a society, we have become spiritually flabby and psychically out of shape because we haven’t been getting in the reps on challenging existential questions. As much research has documented, anxiety and depression have been exploding in the United States, especially among young adults. I believe that this is not because we’re thinking too much about the hard questions of life, but too little. As I’ve discussed previously, we pass our hours and days hypnotized by the trivia injected into our lives via our tech devices, and are less willing to delve into deeper matters. The elevated levels of sadness and fear are, I believe, at least in part the result of our philosophically sedentary lifestyle. Like the benefits of hard exercise, the short-term discomfort of big questions is necessary to avoid the long-term ill-health that comes from avoiding these questions."


And so, if we're going to treat this like exercise, then here are Brooks' suggestions for to build our philosophical muscles.


First, schedule your mental workout. "Choose a period of time each day—say, 30 minutes—that you can dedicate to weighing tough questions of real importance. First, ban all devices and allow no distractions; then figure out in advance what existential or spiritual challenges you plan to consider. You can use a paragraph or two of philosophy or scripture to focus your mind on a specific question, break it down, and improve your understanding."


Alternatively, go for a long walk. "For some people, a good alternative is a long walk alone, without devices, as a way to give room to your right-brain questions. Philosophers have long advocated this technique—Immanuel Kant was reputedly such a regular walker, to aid his deep thinking, that neighbors set their watches by his passing. Research has shown that walking naturally stimulates creative thinking and facilitates the ability to focus without being distracted."


Then there's this; Invite boredom. "One effect of our screen-centered culture is that we’re never truly bored. This might sound great, like a quality-of-life enhancement. But it isn’t. Experiencing boredom is crucial for abstract reasoning and insight, because it helps stimulate the brain’s default-mode network, the set of brain regions that becomes active when the outside world does not impinge on our mind’s attention. Neuroscientists have shown that such activity is vital for accessing high-level meaning. For this reason, building periods of boredom into our life really matters, because they no longer occur spontaneously."


So what deep thoughts do you have about all of this? Do you take time to ponder the unanswerable questions that swirl around us, or do you prefer to tune them out in favor of the trivial and easily answered? Do you think you would benefit from developing a habit of encouraging deep thinking like that outlined by Brooks above? What kind of unanswerable questions would you focus on in such a practice?


Will be inviting boredom if we take all of this on in our conversation this week? Join us for the discussion tomorrow evening, Tuesday Dec. 10, starting at 7pm at Casa Real in downtown Oxford, and find out.



By Peter Trumbore • October 5, 2026
It escaped my notice, so perhaps it escaped yours as well. Back on August 31, the lauded poet, farmer, essayist, and deeply influential thinker Wendell Berry died at the age of 92, in the place he loved best, his farm in Kentucky. Over the years, several of our conversations have been inspired by or touched on Berry's ideas and writings. While Berry has influenced countless Christians through his poetry and fiction, he described himself as a "bad-weather churchgoer." In the preface to his collection of sabbath day poems titled "This Day," Berry explains it this way: "But I am a bad-weather churchgoer. When the weather is good, sometimes when it is only tolerable, I am drawn to the woods on the local hillsides or along the streams… In such places, on the best of these sabbath days, I experience a lovely freedom from expectations — other people’s and also my own. I go free from the tasks and intentions of my workdays, and so my mind becomes hospitable to unintended thoughts: to what I am very willing to call inspiration.." One of the things this quote brings to mind is how important the concept of "place" was in Berry's work and, more importantly, the way he saw the world and how he sought to live in it. Way back in 2017, we talked about the idea of place, with Berry as our guide. "Belong to your place by knowledge of the others who are your neighbors in it ..." This is a very small portion of Wendell Berry's "A Poem on Hope". In his poem, "The Want of Peace," reprinted in the illustration above, Berry writes: "I lack the peace of simple things. I am never wholly in place." So in our conversation this week we're going to revisit this idea of "place," of finding it, belonging to it, and perhaps losing it. There are many ways we can think about this notion. Where do we find peace? Where do we find God? Where do we find ourselves? Where do we find our people, or our purpose? Join us for the conversation tomorrow evening, Tuesday Oct. 6 starting at 7pm at Irish Tavern in downtown Lake Orion.
By Andrew Guffey • October 4, 2026
This Sunday, all are welcome to join us for a morning of worship and fellowship. Whether you are with us in the sanctuary or joining from afar, your presence strengthens our community. Our service is at 9:30 a.m. We warmly welcome those who cannot attend in person to join us via our live stream.
By Peter Trumbore • September 28, 2026
You're probably aware of this already, but for years now, we've been hearing that Americans in particular are suffering from an epidemic of loneliness. Which is different from simply being alone. I think we're all aware that it is perfectly possible crave alone time without feeling lonely, and to feel intense loneliness even when surrounded by people. Sometimes this can be a result of things that are out of our control. But often, it's the choices we make in the name of convenience that lie at the heart of this. Journalist Gabe Bullard's new book, "Against Convenience," argues that our pursuit of ever faster and frictionless experiences comes with invisible costs, and that we unthinkingly accept those as the inevitable price we have to pay to make things easier, Reviewing the book in The Atlantic , writer Julie Beck argues that many of those costs are social. Beck writes: "Once you open your eyes to the tradeoff between convenience and community, you start seeing it everywhere. It’s more convenient to ride a Peloton bike at home alone than to go to a spin class full of other sweaty bodies (whom you might end up chatting with). Zoom meetings make working with distant colleagues much easier, but aren’t very socially nourishing. The gig economy is rife with this bargain. Ubers and Lyfts replace rides given by friends and trips taken on public transit. Delivery replaces meals out at local restaurants and time spent in stores of all kinds." Sometimes, she continues, the whole point of an innovation is that it allows you to do something in isolation that once required interaction with others. Think self-checkout at the grocery store, or the "quiet ride" option that Uber introduced. One of the things we regularly talk about in our conversations is the importance of community. It's why some of us come to church, or, for that matter, Pub Theology. But I think we all also recognize that we engage in this tradeoff of convenience over community all the time, and in all kinds of ways. So that's what we're going to talk about in our discussion this week. Thinking about your life, your-day-to-day, how do you experience this convenience vs. community dynamic? Sure, when we're streaming a new movie in our living room, we're trading that for sitting with a bunch of strangers in an actual theater. Or when we get our meals or groceries or other purchases delivered to our door we get to spare ourselves the hassle of interacting with wait staff and cashiers, or dodging around other shoppers blocking the cereal aisle. But what about the impact of convenience on the relationships we really care about? And what is the impact of avoiding interaction, not just on ourselves, but on society?Finally, how much convenience are you willing to give up in order to build, or rebuild, or sustain community? Join us for the discussion tomorrow evening, Tuesday Sept. 29, starting at 7pm at Irish Tavern in downtown Lake Orion.
By Andrew Guffey • September 27, 2026
This Sunday, all are welcome to join us for a morning of worship and fellowship. Whether you are with us in the sanctuary or joining from afar, your presence strengthens our community. Our service is at 9:30 a.m. We warmly welcome those who cannot attend in person to join us via our live stream.
By Peter Trumbore • September 21, 2026
Years ago, when we were newly married, my wife and I used to schedule annual "planning retreats," where we'd leave town for a long weekend to stay in some charming bed and breakfast somewhere (typically coastal New England), enjoy what the local area had to offer, and to make plans for the future. We'd usually dedicate half a day or so of our getaway to thinking about and writing down our goals for the near and longer-term. These were the days before house and kids, when it looked like the future was ours to determine. We both had demanding jobs at the time, and while we weren't rolling in dough, we had enough to give us the luxury of looking ahead rather than worrying about how we were going to manage day to day. So we talked over timelines, savings goals, family priorities, and so on, trying to figure out things like how much we had to put away, and for how long, before we could start looking for a house. When would we be able to afford to have children? What were our career goals? Where did we want to be five years from now, or ten years from now? And it wasn't just brainstorming. We. Made. Plans. We had targets. And objectives. And we tried to stick to those plans over the following year, reviewing and reevaluating at our next annual planning retreat. At some point, though, we stopped doing this. I can't remember the specifics about when or why we abandoned the exercise, but at some point we did. If I had to guess, I think I'd say we realized that life didn't conform to our nearly laid out agenda. Or, as Mike Tyson famously said, "Everybody has a plan until they get punched in the mouth." Or, in military parlance, "No plan survives first contact with the enemy." You may be wondering at this point where we're going with this, and how it relates to our first discussion after our long summer hiatus. Well, it turns out that scripture has a few things to say on the topic of worrying about and planning for the future versus trusting in God's goodness and care. Probably the best known example comes from Matthew's gospel, specifically 6:25-34 where Jesus is telling his followers not to worry about the future: "Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food and the body more than clothing?Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? And which of you by worrying can add a single hour to your span of life?" He concludes with this: "So do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring worries of its own. Today’s trouble is enough for today." I hear the objection. You're right, this is Jesus telling us not to worry about the future; he's not telling us to not to plan for it. And, in Luke's gospel (14:28-30), Jesus addresses this directly. "For which of you, intending to build a tower, does not first sit down and estimate the cost, to see whether he has enough to complete it? Otherwise, when he has laid a foundation and is not able to finish, all who see it will begin to ridicule him ..." For me, this poses a bit of a conundrum. Why plan for the future when everything is in God's hands anyway? But if we fail to plan ahead, things can go awry and we'll face the consequences of our own unpreparedness. So where is the balance here? Join us for the conversation this week as we take on the question of planning for the future. Are you a planner, or are you more a seat-of-the-pants kind of decision maker? Do you develop plans for the long-term, or is your focus more on the immediate? For example, if it's my turn to make dinner, I make a meal plan (usually). But I'm not in the five-year-plan business. At least not anymore. How about you. Come out to Irish Tavern in downtown Lake Orion tomorrow evening, Tuesday Sept. 22, and share your thoughts with us. Discussion begins at 7pm.
By Andrew Guffey • September 20, 2026
This Sunday, all are welcome to join us for a morning of worship and fellowship. Whether you are with us in the sanctuary or joining from afar, your presence strengthens our community. Our service is at 9:30 a.m. We warmly welcome those who cannot attend in person to join us via our live stream.
By Andrew Guffey • September 13, 2026
This Sunday, all are welcome to join us for a morning of worship and fellowship. Whether you are with us in the sanctuary or joining from afar, your presence strengthens our community. Our service is at 9:30 a.m. We warmly welcome those who cannot attend in person to join us via our live stream.
By Andrew Guffey • September 12, 2026
Recollection and Repetition 
By Andrew Guffey • September 6, 2026
This Sunday, all are welcome to join us for a morning of worship and fellowship. Whether you are with us in the sanctuary or joining from afar, your presence strengthens our community. Our service is at 9:30 a.m. We warmly welcome those who cannot attend in person to join us via our live stream.
By Andrew Guffey • August 30, 2026
This Sunday, all are welcome to join us for a morning of worship and fellowship. Whether you are with us in the sanctuary or joining from afar, your presence strengthens our community. Our service is at 9:30 a.m. We warmly welcome those who cannot attend in person to join us via our live stream.