i grew up in rural northeastern brazil, playing soccer with kids who owned nothing but the shorts they wore. i could not have had a better and more formative childhood.

i then spent 9 years at yale pursuing multiple degrees. i can tell you from experience that a degree from there, by itself, doesn’t mean much.

some of the sharpest, most talented, and nicest people i’ve met are from the midwest. my wife is from a town of 700 people in rural iowa. my father-in-law has “only” a high school degree, was a maintenance man for the local high school, and towers over me in faith, love, and hope. i am deeply humbled that i belong to his family.

mike linton’s incisive comment above are hilarious. and i thought of farmer wendell berry when i read the original post; he’s one of the profoundest thinkers i know.

here are a few germane words from c.s. lewis:

It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses, to remember that the dullest and most uninteresting person you talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship….

We must play. But our merriment must be of that kind (and it is, in fact, the merriest kind)
which exists between people who have, from the outset, taken each other seriously—no flippancy, no superiority, no presumption. And our charity must be a real and costly love, with deep feeling for the sins in spite of which we love the sinner—no mere tolerance or indulgence which parodies love as flippancy parodies merriment. Next to the Blessed Sacrament itself, your neighbour is the holiest object presented to your senses.

I’ve concluded that the first rule of religion is “I am not God.” That may seem like a special case of the first commandment, but in reality it is the only case that matters. Once you know you are not God, you have a chance at seeing the limits of your opinions. You have a chance at reaching for God rather than telling God who God is.