Author: Kern Family

Welcome to The Keep. We're Alan and Joelle Kern, and this blog serves as our family's digital journal. Here we share our experiences as parents to Luke, Levi, and Aletheia, along with our faithful dog, Augustine (Gus). Alan's background spans from military service to evangelical ministry, and now to software engineering with a focus on AI. When he’s not working on a company project, he’s playing sports with the kids, gardening, or reading about a new branch of knowledge he hasn’t explored yet. Joelle is the cornerstone of our home life. She manages the kids’ homeschool and is passionate about developing our backyard into a sustainable food forest. You can usually find her helping lead our local homeschool co-op committee or taking the kids out to a sunny park day with friends. We’re looking to answer the question: what would happen if you threw away conventional thought about everything and worked tirelessly toward finding and pursuing the Good and the True? We hope this leads us to paths that will stretch us beyond a conventional American lifestyle and into a life of purpose and joy.

Don’t Reinvent the Liturgical Wheel

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The Mass is the Pinnacle of Western Christian Worship

For 2,000 years, Christians have worked tirelessly to perfect their public worship. Through councils, theological writings, and centuries of refinement, the Catholic Mass has emerged as the summit of that long, collective journey. It is the distilled essence of worship—a refined gemstone that balances theological depth with simplicity.

While the Orthodox Divine Liturgy is undeniably beautiful and rich, the Mass offers something uniquely suited to the West. It is less elaborate but no less profound. It’s a structure that holds within it the wisdom of the early Church, the influence of the Church Fathers, and the contributions of theologians who sought to reflect the glory of God as fully as possible in public worship. And it’s this structure, perfected over millennia, that I believe all Western Christians—Protestants included—should adopt.

The Search for the Perfect Liturgy

Protestants have long struggled with how to structure their public worship. Some traditions opted for simplicity, rejecting formal liturgy altogether, while others sought to create their own forms, borrowing from the past but often doing so inconsistently.

In this search, Protestant churches have wrestled with the question of how to balance spontaneity with structure, emotion with theology. Some communities have embraced a free-flowing style of worship, focused on preaching or praise music, but lacking the rhythm and depth that liturgical forms offer. Others have clung to pieces of liturgy but without the theological grounding and consistency that make it feel complete.

But there is no need to reinvent the wheel. The Mass provides a solution, offering a perfected form of worship that has been shaped by centuries of Christian thought. It addresses every aspect of public worship, from confession to the reading of Scripture to the sacrament of the Eucharist, drawing the congregation into a deeper encounter with the divine.

The Mass as the Pinnacle of Christian Wisdom

What makes the Mass so powerful is that it is not merely a tradition; it is the embodiment of Christian wisdom, distilled and purified over time. Every element, every word, and every action in the Mass has been considered and shaped by the early Church and generations of Christian leaders. It is theologically rich yet accessible, focused on Christ’s sacrifice yet inviting to all believers.

At its core, the Mass centers around the Eucharist, the memorial of Christ’s death and resurrection. It reflects the biblical foundations of Christian worship, particularly the Last Supper, and integrates them into a structure that has endured throughout Christian history. The Mass, in this sense, isn’t just a service; it is a living tradition, a sacred rhythm that draws the worshipper into the heart of God’s redemptive plan.

Over centuries, councils have debated and shaped the Mass into what it is today. It’s not the product of any one person or period but a collaborative refinement that has survived the tests of time, persecution, and cultural shifts. That’s why, for Catholics, the Mass is non-negotiable. It is the weekly, even daily, gathering point of the faithful—an act of worship that is mandated not by custom but by divine inspiration.

Protestantism and the Struggle with Liturgy

In contrast, Protestantism has often been fragmented in its approach to public worship. The Reformation rightly brought many vital theological corrections, but in its break from Catholic tradition, much of the structure that had formed the backbone of Christian worship was lost.

Many Protestant churches, especially in their early days, abandoned liturgy entirely, opting for an unstructured, spontaneous approach. While this can lead to passionate and heartfelt worship, it often lacks the theological grounding that ensures the entire community is drawn into the fullness of Christian teaching and experience.

Other Protestant communities have sought to reintroduce liturgical elements, often borrowing from Anglican, Lutheran, or even Catholic traditions. However, without the centuries of theological and spiritual refinement behind them, these attempts can feel incomplete. The structure might be there, but the depth and meaning that the Mass offers often remain elusive.

A Surprising Discovery: Protestant Hymns in the Mass

When I first went to Mass, I was shocked to hear evangelical hymns—songs I knew from my teenage years, Bible college days, and even my time in Baptist ministry. I didn’t expect that. I thought Catholic music was totally different from what I knew growing up.

But there we were, singing the same songs I’d heard for years. The big difference? The Mass took what I was used to and made it more complete. The prayers were thoughtful, the structure was solid, and everything was deeply rooted in scripture. It felt more intentional than the extemporaneous way we’d do things in evangelical services. There was a depth to it that went beyond anything I had experienced before.

A Path Forward: Adopting the Mass

For Protestants, the Mass offers an ideal model for worship. Not only does it provide a consistent and deeply theological structure, but it also unites the congregation in a common purpose: to worship God through Christ’s sacrifice. Adopting the Mass, or at least its core elements, would not mean forsaking Protestant theology but rather embracing a form of worship that has already stood the test of time.

In many ways, the Mass is a gift that Protestants have overlooked. It is a perfect aggregation of centuries of thought, prayer, and theological development, all aimed at drawing believers closer to God. It provides a framework that ensures the essentials of the faith are present in every service: confession, Scripture, prayer, and the sacrament.

This doesn’t mean every Protestant church must adopt the Catholic Mass in its entirety, but incorporating its rhythm and structure could bring about a richer, more theologically grounded worship experience. The Mass offers a way to ensure that public worship is not just an expression of personal faith but a communal participation in the great story of salvation.

Conclusion: Unity Through Worship

By adopting the Mass or its essential elements, Protestants can rediscover the beauty and depth of liturgical worship. It offers the best of Christian tradition, refined through centuries of wisdom and forged in the fires of theological debate.

The Mass is a reminder that worship is not merely a personal act but a communal one, rooted in the story of Christ’s sacrifice and resurrection. And in embracing the Mass, we find a form of worship that not only honors God but also unites believers across time and space in the grand narrative of redemption.

Karma: A Shadow of a Divine Pattern

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A Partial Glimpse

Karma is one of those ancient ideas that resonates deeply across cultures and eras. It embodies the belief that the universe operates on a moral law—that actions, whether good or bad, inevitably bring consequences. This concept, rooted in Eastern religions, feels like it’s touching on something fundamentally true, even if it doesn’t fully explain why that’s the case.

Yet, when we look closer, karma seems to be a shadow of something greater—a partial, intuitive grasp of a reality that goes beyond what karma itself can offer. It acknowledges a moral order but leaves unanswered questions about its origin and purpose. The Buddha himself, when asked about the nature or origin of the universe, chose not to answer. This reluctance to delve into metaphysical questions leaves karma somewhat ungrounded. It’s a system that works, but without a clear understanding of why it works or who set it in motion.

Here, Christianity steps in, not to dismiss karma, but to fill in the gaps. Christianity provides the metaphysical grounding that karma hints at, revealing a God who is not only just but also deeply invested in the moral development of His creation. In this way, karma can be seen as an ancient glimpse into the truth of a universe governed by a loving Creator, a truth that Christianity fully reveals.

The Four Unanswered Questions of the Buddha

To better understand this connection, it’s important to look at what the Buddha himself chose not to address. In Buddhist tradition, there are four key metaphysical questions that the Buddha intentionally left unanswered. These are often referred to as the avyākata or “unanswered” or “undeclared” questions:

  1. Is the universe eternal, or is it not eternal?
  2. Is the universe infinite, or is it not infinite?
  3. Is the soul the same as the body, or is it different from the body?
  4. Does a liberated person exist after death, or do they not exist, or do they both exist and not exist, or do they neither exist nor not exist?

The Buddha’s decision not to engage with these questions was based on his belief that they do not lead to enlightenment or the cessation of suffering, which was his primary concern. He believed that such speculative inquiries were distractions from the practical path of spiritual practice. Karma, within this framework, operates as a moral principle without needing to be grounded in an understanding of the universe’s origins or ultimate fate.

This approach highlights the limited scope of karma—it functions within a moral framework, but it doesn’t offer a comprehensive metaphysical explanation. This is where Christianity offers something more. While Buddhism leaves these foundational questions unanswered, Christianity steps in to provide answers, grounding the moral order in the nature of God and His creation of the universe.

The Shadow of Divine Truth in Karma

Karma, in its essence, represents a shadow of divine truth—a reflection of a deeper moral order that governs the universe. It’s as if karma grasps at the edges of a divine principle, recognizing that actions have consequences, that there’s a kind of moral cause-and-effect at play. Yet, it stops short of explaining why this order exists or who established it.

The Buddha’s reluctance to answer questions about the origin of the universe underscores this limitation. Karma acknowledges that there’s a law, but it doesn’t tell us much about the lawgiver. It recognizes the effects but remains silent on the source. Christianity, on the other hand, answers these questions by grounding the moral order in the nature of God Himself—a God who is not distant but intimately involved in the lives of His creation.

This perspective is reminiscent of the thoughts of Raimon Panikkar, a Catholic theologian who engaged deeply with both Eastern and Western thought. Panikkar saw karma as part of a cosmic order that, while not fully articulated in Buddhism, pointed toward a truth that Christianity completes. The moral order in karma, according to this view, is not merely mechanical but personal and purposeful, as revealed in the Christian understanding of a God who is both just and loving.

In this light, karma is like a sketch of a truth that Christianity paints in full color. It’s a hint, an echo, of a deeper reality where the moral order is not just a neutral law but an expression of God’s fatherly care. It’s not just about balance; it’s about instruction, growth, and restoration.

Divine Justice: Restorative, Not Retributive

One of the key differences between karma and the Christian understanding of justice lies in the nature of the consequences that follow our actions. Karma is often understood as retributive—a simple cause-and-effect, where good actions bring good results and bad actions bring bad ones. It’s a straightforward system, but it can feel harsh, almost mechanical.

Christianity, however, reveals a different kind of justice, one that is restorative rather than retributive. God’s justice isn’t about a 1:1 punishment for every crime. Instead, it’s about using the consequences of our actions to teach and guide us, much like a father disciplines his children not to punish them, but to help them grow. In this way, divine justice is deeply personal and purposeful. It’s about restoration, about bringing us back into right relationship with God and with each other.

Henri de Lubac, S.J., a Jesuit theologian, emphasized the idea that God’s justice is always intertwined with His mercy. In this view, the consequences of sin are not merely punitive; they are also corrective, designed to lead the sinner back to God. This understanding of justice aligns with the instructive nature of karma but transcends it. God doesn’t just balance the scales; He actively works to heal, restore, and lead His children toward maturity. The consequences of our actions are real, but they are also opportunities for growth, for turning back to God, and for being made whole again.

Here we go beyond the Buddha. Where he found a path leading to what he deemed an empty and dark void, we find that on the other side of the darkness is a loving Father who nurtures and guides his children into being more like him. It’s not a mechanistic ratio but the wise discipline of a parent.

Shadow and Substance

Karma casts a shadow—a recognition that our actions have consequences and that these consequences carry lessons. It suggests a kind of moral education, a system where life itself instructs us through the outcomes of our deeds. But this shadow lacks depth; it acknowledges the lesson but leaves us grasping for the teacher, for the purpose behind the instruction.

Christianity brings this shadow into focus, offering the substance that karma only hints at. In the practice of penance, we find not just a moral correction, but a profound and humble acceptance of divine instruction. Penance is not merely about balancing scales or paying off some spiritual debt; it’s about submitting to God’s will and embracing the lessons He gives us through our experiences. This is where the shadow of karma finds its fulfillment in the substance of Christian teaching.

Penance is a means of transformation, but not just by our own effort. It’s a process of theosis, where we are gradually shaped into the likeness of Christ. We don’t just learn from our mistakes; we take on the divine task of becoming more like God, accepting our trials and corrections as part of His grand design for our sanctification. This is the substance—the reality that karma only glimpses but never fully grasps.

Jean Daniélou, S.J., saw this clearly in his exploration of how God uses the natural consequences of sin to instruct and form us. He recognized that penance is more than a response to wrongdoing; it’s an acceptance of our role in God’s plan, a willingness to be molded by His hands. In this way, penance transforms the shadow into substance, turning mere moral instruction into a divine assignment, a call to take up our cross and follow Christ.

Karma, in its shadowy form, points to a truth about the moral order. But it’s in Christian penance that this truth is fully realized. Here, we don’t just face consequences—we embrace them as part of our journey toward theosis, allowing God to turn our weaknesses into strengths and our sins into opportunities for grace.

Filling in the Shadows with Light

In the end, karma is an ancient concept that touches on a profound truth about the universe: that there is a moral order, and that our actions have consequences. But it’s a truth that remains in the shadows, incomplete and ungrounded. Christianity steps in to fill those shadows with light, revealing a God who is not only just but also deeply loving—a Father who uses the moral order not just to balance the scales, but to instruct, restore, and lead His children toward the fullness of life.

This understanding of divine justice, as restorative and instructive, offers a richer, more complete vision of how the world works—a vision that not only deepens our understanding of karma but also enriches the dialogue between Eastern and Western thought. In the light of Christian revelation, karma’s intuitive grasp of moral truth finds its fulfillment, offering a path not just to balance, but to transformation, renewal, and eternal life.

Daycare and Detached Parenting: A Potentially Hidden Source of Trauma

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The Heartbreaking Reality of Daycare: Are We Failing Our Children?

The other day, I watched a TikTok video that has been on my mind ever since. It showed a typical scene at a daycare center: parents arriving to pick up their children at the end of the day. The moment the toddlers saw their parents, they began to cry. Not just whimper or shed a tear—full-on crying. These weren’t tears of joy or relief; they were tears of overwhelming emotion, likely a mix of stress, sadness, and confusion.

This video captured something that many of us overlook: the deep emotional toll that early separation takes on our children. It made me think hard about the current state of parenting and how, as a society, we might be failing our kids en masse by pushing them into these environments far too early.

A Troubling Trend: Convenience Over Children’s Well-being

This concern isn’t just about daycare. My wife recently had a conversation with a mother who mentioned that she had put her newborn on formula within the first month because it helped the baby sleep better, and by extension, allowed her to sleep better too. Now, I want to be clear: I have nothing against formula. It’s a lifesaver in situations where breastfeeding isn’t an option or when a mother’s health requires it. But this conversation wasn’t about necessity—it was about convenience.

What struck me was the underlying sentiment: that the mother’s comfort was taking precedence over the child’s potential long-term well-being. This mindset, where convenience often overrides the needs of the child, is becoming disturbingly common. And quite frankly, it’s disheartening.

The Evolutionary Argument for Maternal Care

From an evolutionary perspective, children are hardwired to be close to their mothers, especially in the early months and years. For most of human history, mothers and babies have been inseparable. This closeness wasn’t just a cultural norm; it was a biological necessity. Babies needed their mothers for food, protection, and, crucially, for emotional security.

Research supports the idea that early maternal bonding is critical. Studies on attachment theory have shown that infants who are securely attached to their primary caregivers—most often their mothers—tend to be more resilient, emotionally stable, and better equipped to handle stress as they grow. One study by Dr. Alan Sroufe and his colleagues at the University of Minnesota followed children over 30 years and found that those with secure attachments in infancy had better social and emotional outcomes in adulthood compared to those with insecure attachments.

But what happens when we disrupt this natural bond? Evidence suggests that early separation from the mother can lead to elevated cortisol levels (the stress hormone) in infants, which, over time, can negatively impact brain development and emotional regulation. Children who spend long hours in daycare, especially from a very young age, have been found to be more prone to behavioral issues, including aggression and anxiety. The more time infants spend in non-maternal care, the greater the risk of these negative outcomes.

Spiritual Perspective: The Sacred Bond of Motherhood

Motherhood is more than just a biological role—it’s a spiritual calling. Think of the Virgin Mary, a figure who embodies nurturing and sacrifice. Mary’s life was devoted to her son, Jesus, not just in a physical sense but in an emotional and spiritual one. She was there for every step of his early life, offering love, guidance, and prayers.

This sacred bond is something all mothers can strive for. It’s about more than just meeting the physical needs of a child; it’s about creating an environment where a child feels deeply loved and secure. It’s about being present—emotionally, spiritually, and physically. When we prioritize our comfort or societal expectations over this bond, we’re not just shortchanging our children; we’re missing out on a profoundly fulfilling aspect of motherhood.

The Modern Daycare Dilemma

Daycare, especially for very young children, often falls short of meeting these emotional and developmental needs. The environment in most daycares is far from ideal—crowded, impersonal, and at times, downright stressful. While daycares can be necessary, especially for families who need two incomes to get by, we need to be honest about what we’re sacrificing.

Do you believe modern society is healthy? Do you think the kids are alright? Are we all doing mentally well as a society? If not, why in God’s name are we continuing to stay the course of this zeitgeist, doing what everyone else is doing? Why is no one questioning what could possibly be wrong with the most formative times of our lives?

Consider this: We live in an era where rates of anxiety, depression, and other mental health disorders are at an all-time high, even among children. Could it be that our early choices—like separating infants from their mothers, relying on daycares to raise our kids, and prioritizing convenience over connection—are contributing to this crisis?

The Ideal Childhood: A Call for Reconnecting with Parental Roles

So, what does an ideal childhood look like? It’s one where parents, especially mothers, are present during the formative years. It’s a childhood where children don’t have to cry in daycare because they’ve been with the people they need most—those who love them unconditionally. It’s a childhood where small sacrifices by parents, like adjusting work schedules or cutting back on non-essential expenses, lead to a stronger, healthier, and happier child.

I’m not saying that staying home full-time is feasible for every family. But I am saying that we should strive to maximize the time we spend with our children, especially when they are very young. Whether it’s reducing work hours, working from home, or finding other creative solutions, we need to make our children’s well-being a priority.

Questioning Our Motives

Why do we send kids to daycare? Why do we care so much about getting them out of the house and into activities all day? Is it because we genuinely believe it’s better for them—or is it because it’s more convenient for us? Are we, as parents, simply trying to create space in our lives, whether to work more, have some peace, or even just to keep up with societal expectations?

Let’s be honest: a lot of the time, it’s about money. We work longer hours and send our kids to daycare so we can make more money. But why do we need so much money? Often, it’s to buy things we don’t need, to impress people we don’t even like. We’re caught in a cycle of consumption that’s disconnected from what really matters.

But what if we stopped to question this cycle? What if, instead of focusing on getting our kids out of the house, we focused on bringing them closer? What if we prioritized time with our children over making more money, over buying more stuff, over fitting in with what everyone else is doing?

The most important thing we can give our children isn’t found in a store or a paycheck. It’s our presence, our love, and our attention. It’s time spent together, forming bonds that will last a lifetime. So before we send them off to daycare, or sign them up for endless activities, let’s ask ourselves: what are we really working for, and at what cost?

The Pure Love of God

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Love, But Not Quite

Love is a word we use often, but its true depth is something many of us never fully grasp. We experience love in various forms—toward a partner, a friend, a child, or a cause we’re passionate about. Despite its beauty, however, human love often feels incomplete. There’s always something holding us back, a sense that we’re not able to fully give ourselves to the people we care about. This isn’t necessarily because we lack the desire to love completely, but rather because our very nature, shaped by past experiences and deep-seated fears, often prevents us from fully opening our hearts.

Why Can’t We Love Like We Mean It?

Our ability to love is often compromised by our own psychological limitations. The fear of vulnerability can be paralyzing. To love deeply is to expose ourselves, to risk being hurt or rejected. This fear leads us to build walls around our hearts, holding back parts of ourselves to avoid the pain that might come with true openness.

Instead of embracing love with open arms, we approach it cautiously, protecting ourselves from the very thing we most desire. Our instinct for self-preservation, hardwired into us by years of emotional conditioning, makes us wary of giving too much, lest we lose ourselves or get hurt in the process. The traumas of our past, whether they involve betrayal, loss, or abandonment, leave lasting scars that create emotional blockages. These wounds linger in our psyches, silently shaping how we engage in relationships, often making it difficult to trust or to love without fear. Even when we want to love fully, these unresolved pains keep us tethered to old wounds, limiting our ability to give ourselves completely.

And then there’s the issue of ego. We want to be loved, but often on our own terms. We cling to control, wanting to protect our sense of self and maintain our own interests. This pride can make it difficult to truly surrender to love, as we hold back, giving conditionally rather than fully. These psychological barriers—fear, self-preservation, past traumas, and ego—are deeply rooted, and they make it nearly impossible for us to love with the selflessness and purity that we might aspire to.

A Love That Knows No Limits

But there is a love that knows no such limitations—a love that is completely untainted by the flaws that hold us back. God’s love stands in stark contrast to our own. Where we are afraid, God’s love is bold and unreserved. Where we hold back out of self-preservation, God gives of Himself fully and without hesitation. Unlike our love, which is often shaped by past hurts, God’s love is pure and unchanging, not swayed by fear or the need to protect Himself. It is a love that pours out endlessly, without expectation or condition, without even a hint of self-interest. In God, there are no walls, no barriers, no ego—just a fierce, passionate love that seeks only to give, to heal, and to embrace.

To imagine what it would be like to love as God loves is to step into a realm of love that is beyond our human understanding. It is a love that is entirely selfless, a love that does not waver or withdraw, even when faced with rejection or pain. To love like God is to love with a heart that is wide open, unguarded, and unafraid—a heart that seeks only the good of the other, without any thought of self. This is a love that we, as humans, can only strive to imitate in small ways, as we work to transcend the limitations that hold us back. Yet, even in our imperfect attempts, we can catch glimpses of this divine love, and these glimpses can be transformative, guiding us toward a greater capacity to love others more selflessly.

The Kind of Love That Changes Everything

But perhaps more important than our attempts to imitate this love is the recognition of how deeply we are loved by God. Reflecting on this love should leave us in awe—it’s a love that is so different from our own experiences that it can be difficult to fully comprehend. Romans 8 reminds us of the unbreakable, unyielding nature of this love, a love that is life-changing and edifying. Yet, despite its constancy, we often need to refresh our minds and hearts to truly grasp the magnitude of God’s love for us. We need to continually remind ourselves that God’s love is not like human love, with its flaws and limitations. It is a love that showers us with grace, that pursues us relentlessly, and that remains steadfast even when we falter.

A Love Worth Dwelling On

Contemplating on this divine love will allow it to renew our spirits and transform the way we love others. Let us strive to love more selflessly, to break free from the chains of fear, ego, and past pain. And let us dwell on the truth that we are already loved beyond measure by a God whose love knows no bounds—a love that is worth reflecting on, worth striving for, and worth celebrating every day.

Tribute to My Father, Paul Kern (1972-2024)

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Rest in peace, Paul Alan Kern (1972-2024).

There’s a lot in this story. It will be difficult to capture the whole portrait of who he was, but I will do my best:

Audacious, proud, fiercely passionate, deeply emotional, reserved but charismatic. A rebel without a cause.

He drops out of school around junior high and gets involved in the gangs of LA in the 1980’s.

He falls in love, gets married in his teens, and fathers two sons. Things do not go well. Devastated by a divorce, he retreats back to his parents’ house with his two young boys.

Life as a single dad is unconventional. He gets the crazy idea to unschool the boys—he doesn’t like the system but doesn’t have an alternative. He can’t do beyond elementary math, so he does his best to print worksheets, collect books, and share his love of reading.

While on a walk, he discovers a kendo dojo and a Japanese community in the late 90’s and signs his boys up. It becomes an incubator, deeply forming the three. He paints helicopters, works on cars, and does manual labor on the side to scrape by.

Having had a good experience in the Japanese community, he signs his sons up to a Japanese baseball team, and somehow winds up as the head coach. He leads a ragtag team named the Samurais through a few leagues and across several years and is celebrated as a beloved coach.

He decides one day the boys need to at least attend middle school. So he finds a small private Lutheran school to enroll them in despite being strapped for cash. It’s hard to keep them out of trouble, especially the oldest.

The family has all sorts of adventures together. Life is good living in LA with the grandparents and the boys tucked into one small and cozy house.

Things slow down a bit as the boys get into public high school. Their grades are terrible, and sometimes it seems they might slide into his old ways.

But he was unaware of one thing. He left an old worn Bible on the shelf of the room they shared, the one his father recommended, the one he used to try to turn his life around. He didn’t know that one of his sons was wrestling with existential questions and finding his way into it, looking for answers. This son has a life-altering spiritual experience while reading the letters of St. Paul and commits himself to Christ. The two boys, transformed significantly, set out to forge their own path.

They scrap their way into community college, then into a small Christian college further out of the city, and then into jobs. It was time for them to leave home on their own adventures away from dad, bringing the glory days with his sons to an end. What was left for him to do?

He meanders for a bit, but finally musters up the will at 50 years old to get his GED and enroll in community college courses.

He’s brilliant and loved by students and professors. He excels at his studies and gets accepted into UCLA. He attends and has the time of his life studying his favorite subject, history, in the kind of environment he always longed for. He TA’s for a tenured professor and begins envisioning plans to teach abroad.

He studies in the day and spends his afternoons helping his mother caretake for his father, who passes away at a ripe old age. He dreams of new lands, a fresh start, and another chapter.

Sadly, he will never go on to finish his degree. Suddenly and quickly, he is overtaken by heart failure. He fights and rebels even in his last moments. He breathes his last in the company of his family and friends, the blazing path of a maverick at last snuffed out.

And so ends the earthly tale of Paul Kern.

There’s no way I can get to everything: the brotherhood he found in the gangs, the days spent speeding down California highways in our 70’s pickup truck, his acting career in Hollywood, his Jiu Jitsu training with the Gracie’s, his first drafts at an adventure novel, his struggle with being something of a Jon Snow (let the reader understand).

He nursed many wounds and traumas privately by himself. Yes, he was full of flaws, but it’s easy to say that. It’s much harder to understand the whole man, what he overcame, and ultimately what he accomplished, not only by himself but through the sons he staked everything on.

His life is a lesson that it’s never too late to write the second half of your tale, that God can slowly mend the pieces that shattered in you long ago, and that the love you pour into your children and those you influence will sprout like olive shoots, leafing and branching out across the flow of time, bearing good fruit for the earth and blessing descendants for thousands of years to come.

But I’ve waxed eloquent long enough. I really have a simple message to deliver: I loved my dad, and I’m forever grateful I got to be his son.

I look forward to the resurrection of the dead and the life of the world to come. Amen.

The End of the World is Just the Beginning, a New Dark Age, and the Benedictine Rule

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A World in Transition: Waning U.S. Influence and the Rise of New Powers

In an era where the United States’ global influence appears to be waning, one can’t help but draw parallels to the fall of the Roman Empire. Such shifts often usher in periods of uncertainty and upheaval. Yet history provides us with a blueprint for resilience. When Rome fell, the Benedictine communities emerged as beacons of stability, preserving and nurturing European culture through the Dark Ages. Today, their principles offer valuable lessons for navigating our own uncertain future.

The Implications of Waning U.S. Influence

Peter Zeihan, geopolitical analyst, argues that the decline of U.S. naval power and the rise of competing powers will lead to a reconfiguration of global dynamics. Historically, the U.S. has maintained open sea lanes for international trade, ensuring a level of global stability. Without this stabilizing force, we could see increased regional conflicts, piracy, and disruptions in global trade routes​ (Zeihan on Geopolitics)​.

Zeihan suggests that the U.S. might retract from its extensive international commitments, leading to a more fragmented and unstable world order. This retraction could force many nations to fend for themselves, resulting in economic downturns and political unrest. The interconnected global economy, reliant on U.S. protection and trade, may struggle to adapt to this new reality.

The potential for such a fragmented global landscape mirrors the chaos following the fall of the Roman Empire. Europe, once unified under Roman rule, splintered into isolated and often warring states. And from this chaos emerged the Benedictine communities, the rich soil from which European culture through the Dark Ages emerged.

The Benedictine Blueprint: A Guiding Light for Modern Times

The Benedictine Rule offers principles that I believe can help modern communities thrive amidst uncertainty. Saint Benedict of Nursia established this rule in the 6th century to guide monastic life, emphasizing moderation, community, and a Christ-centered existence. These principles proved vital in stabilizing and rebuilding society during the Dark Ages, and they can offer valuable lessons for us today.

Moderation: The Key to Stability

The Benedictine Rule emphasizes a balanced life, advocating for neither excess nor deprivation. In a world obsessed with consumption, this principle of moderation is a refreshing counterbalance. By focusing on essential needs and sustainable living, communities can build resilience against economic shocks and maintain a sense of stability.

For modern Christians, practicing moderation means reducing dependency on global supply chains and focusing on local, sustainable resources. It involves a shift from a consumer-driven lifestyle to one that prioritizes long-term well-being over short-term gratification. This approach not only fosters personal contentment but also strengthens the community as a whole.

If the supply chain and trade routes are vulnerable, why would you not begin to practice moderation and self-sufficiency today at least as an effort to hedge?

Community: The Foundation of Resilience

The Benedictine emphasis on community living provides a framework for building strong, supportive networks. Benedictine monks thrived in close-knit communities where mutual aid and cooperation were paramount. This sense of belonging and mutual support was the glue that held everything together, enabling them to withstand external pressures and internal challenges.

In today’s context, fostering community means investing time and effort in building local networks. This can be through family gatherings, neighborhood groups, or church activities. Strong local ties create a safety net that can provide support during times of crisis. By nurturing these connections, modern Christians can create resilient communities capable of facing an uncertain future.

Christocentric Humility: A Path to Unity

Central to the Benedictine lifestyle is a focus on humility and living a life centered around Christ. This wasn’t merely personal piety but a community-wide ethos that valued every member and sought to live out Christian teachings in daily life. Humility fostered a culture of service and compassion, ensuring that the needs of the community were always prioritized over individual desires.

For modern Christians, maintaining a Christ-centered focus in community activities is essential. Encouraging practices that promote humility, service, and compassion can help communities stay grounded and united. This spiritual foundation is crucial for maintaining cohesion and purpose, even in the face of adversity.

Building Resilient Communities

Drawing inspiration from the Benedictine Rule, modern Christians can take practical steps to build resilient communities:

  1. Local Networks: Invest in building strong local networks. This can be through family gatherings, neighborhood groups, or local churches. Strong local ties create a safety net so that you can have friends to welcome you into eternal dwellings (Luke 16:9)
  2. Sustainable Living: Embrace a lifestyle of moderation and sustainability. Reduce dependency on global supply chains by supporting local businesses and adopting self-sufficient practices like gardening, local trade, and permaculture practices like food forestry.
  3. Spiritual Focus: Maintain a Christ-centered focus in community activities. Encourage practices that promote humility, service, and compassion. This spiritual foundation can help communities remain cohesive and purpose-driven.

Rising from the Ashes: The New Benedictine Age

When the Roman Empire crumbled, it wasn’t the end—it was a messy, chaotic beginning. The Benedictine monks stepped into this chaos with a revolutionary idea: that even in the darkest times, principles of moderation, community, and humility could spark renewal and growth. As we stand on the brink of our own geopolitical upheaval, there’s a lot we can learn from their playbook.

Imagine a world where communities are built not on the shifting sands of power and wealth, but on the solid ground of shared values and mutual support. These are the bedrocks of resilience. By embracing moderation, fostering tight-knit communities, and living with humility, we can weather whatever storms come our way.

Periods of decline don’t have to spell disaster; they can be opportunities for profound transformation. As global dynamics shift, it might feel like we’re witnessing the end of an era. But more likely, we’re at the dawn of something new. Embracing these changes with wisdom and practical action will help us not just survive, but thrive, paving the way for a resilient and flourishing future.

Why Cursor is the Best AI Coding Assistant

~ Kern Family ~ Leave a comment

In the world of AI coding assistants, there are some big names out there: ChatGPT, Codium, Cursor, GitHub Copilot, and a few experimental agents. After using many of them, I’ve found that Cursor is a real standout. Here’s a rundown of why I think Cursor is the best of the bunch.

ChatGPT

We all know ChatGPT for its conversational abilities. It’s handy for generating code snippets, debugging, and explaining concepts. However, it requires manual copying and pasting, which can slow down your workflow. It’s great for specific tasks but not as efficient for larger projects. In my experience, around 26% of code suggestions from ChatGPT get accepted by developers 1.

Codium

Codium is quite impressive with over 300,000 monthly active users. It supports more than 40 IDEs and over 70 programming languages 2. The free version is great for individual users, but there’s also a team plan for $19/month 3. Codium’s multi-line auto-completion and AI-powered chat are very useful 4.

Cursor

Now, this is where things get interesting. Cursor is used by tens of thousands of engineers, including folks at Tesla, IBM, Harvard, and MIT 5. One of the things I love about Cursor is that it runs 3x faster with GPT-4 compared to using OpenAI’s API directly 6. It’s also fully compatible with all Visual Studio Code extensions, which makes the transition smooth 7. Cursor offers a free plan and a pro plan at $30/month for full access to its AI capabilities 8.

GitHub Copilot

GitHub Copilot is another big player, used by over 20,000 organizations 9. It’s known for boosting productivity—developers using Copilot complete tasks 55% faster 10. About 30% of its suggestions are accepted, leading to an 8.69% increase in pull requests per developer and a 15% increase in pull request merge rates 11. Plus, 75% of developers report feeling more fulfilled using Copilot 12.

Experimental Agents

Experimental agents like AIDR and OpenDevin aim to automate coding tasks but are currently at about 13% efficiency 13. They struggle with task orchestration and memory management, so they’re more of a novelty than a practical tool for now.

Why Cursor Stands Out

Here’s why Cursor stands out for me:

  • Top-notch Autocomplete: Cursor’s autocomplete is more accurate and useful than GitHub Copilot’s.
  • Up-to-date Tech: Cursor uses Cloud 3.5 Sonnet and GPT-4.0, ensuring you have access to the latest libraries and technologies 5 7.
  • User-Friendly: It simplifies adding and managing files, speeding up the workflow significantly.
  • All-in-One Solution: Cursor combines the best features of GitHub Copilot and ChatGPT, offering seamless code completion and easy file management.

My Experience with Cursor

Using Cursor to develop a life coach AI app has been a game-changer. Implementing new features is a breeze—Cursor handles routes, controllers, services, repositories, and database files quickly. It takes care of the syntax and boilerplate code, leaving me to focus on high-level architecture and problem-solving.

Future Potential

Agents have huge potential. Once they improve memory management and task orchestration, they could revolutionize coding. Imagine an AI that autonomously retrieves context, manages files, and writes code, handling complex tasks seamlessly. But for now, they aren’t ready 13.

One Simple Test to Know if Your Dog is Truly Happy

~ Kern Family ~ Leave a comment

The true test of whether a dog is happy with his pack is simple. Put him outside your front door, close it, and see if he stays or runs away.

One afternoon, our dog Augustine (Gus), found himself on the wrong side of that door. We didn’t notice at first because our youngest had accidentally left him out. For about 30 minutes, he waited outside.When we opened the door, Gus was there, just laying down comfortably by the door. He could have wandered off, explored the neighborhood, or chased after any of the countless scents outside. But he didn’t. He stayed close, waiting for us.

[Gus joining us for a car ride]

We often wonder about our dogs’ happiness. Are they content? Could they have a better life elsewhere? It’s easy to think that dogs, with their simple needs, are happy as long as they have food and playthings. But what happens when they’re given the choice to stay or go?

I’ve known dogs that would bolt the moment they saw an open door. I babysat a dog once that darted out as soon as the door cracked open. Growing up, I knew many dogs like this, always ready to seize their chance at freedom, even if just for a brief adventure. They didn’t hesitate; they ran.

This comparison brings into focus the real measure of a dog’s happiness. Some dogs, given the chance, choose to run. Maybe they see the outside world as more exciting, or maybe they don’t feel as connected to their home. But a dog that waits by the door is telling you something profound. They’re saying, “This is my home. This is where I want to be.”

Gus’s choice to stay with us, even when the world was open to him, was a simple but powerful statement. He values our companionship over the unknown. It’s a reminder that true happiness for our dogs isn’t about the things we give them but about the bonds we share.

So, next time you wonder if your dog is happy, think about this simple test. It’s not about how many toys they have or how often they get treats. It’s about where they choose to be when they have the freedom to go anywhere. For Gus, and for many dogs who wait at the door, happiness is being part of their pack. And that’s where they truly find their joy.

Holiness as an Offensive Operation

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In many conservative circles, holiness is often viewed as a call to separate oneself from the world, to avoid its impurities, and to maintain an “otherness” moral purity. This perspective can sometimes lead to a lifestyle that is reclusive, disengaged from culture, and, in many cases, reminiscent of communities like the Amish.

Is this what it means to “be holy as I am holy?” What does the word holy even mean? Here, I’ve been thoroughly convinced by my old Professor, Dr. Peter Gentry, and his exploration of holiness that invites us to rethink these traditional views.

Holiness as Consecration and Devotion

I first heard of Gentry’s position while taking one of his classes at SBTS. I was floored by the implications of what he argued for because I was deeply embedded in conservative circles, and it was easy to understand what he was getting at.

Gentry’s paper for this (linked at the bottom of this post) dives into the biblical concept of holiness, moving beyond the simplistic equation of holiness with mere separation from sin.

He explains that the Hebrew term for holy, קָדוֹשׁ (qadosh), and its Greek counterpart, ἅγιος (hagios), fundamentally mean “consecrated” or “devoted.” This understanding shifts the focus from a defensive stance against worldly influences to a proactive commitment to God and His purposes.

In my view, this broader definition challenges the narrow perspective that holiness is solely about setting oneself apart from the world. Instead, it emphasizes a wholehearted dedication to God that actively seeks to align our lives with His will. It’s about participating in His redemptive mission and living out our faith in a way that impacts the world positively.

The Lexical Background of ‘Qadosh’: Understanding Holiness

Peter Gentry’s examination of the Hebrew term קָדוֹשׁ (qadosh), often translated as “holy,” offers a crucial foundation for rethinking our concept of holiness. Parsing the lexical background of qadosh, Gentry reveals that the term carries a depth of meaning that extends beyond the traditional associations of moral purity or separation from sin.

Qadosh: Beyond Mere Separation

The term qadosh, Gentry explains, originates from a root that fundamentally means “to set apart” or “to consecrate.” While this certainly includes the idea of being separate, especially from what is common or profane, Gentry emphasizes that this separation is not an end in itself. Instead, it is a means to a deeper purpose—being devoted or dedicated to God.

In his analysis, Gentry references the broader Semitic linguistic family, where similar terms in other languages also denote the idea of dedication or consecration rather than just separation. For instance, the Akkadian term “qadashu” and the Ugaritic “qds” align closely with this notion of being set apart for a specific, divine purpose.

Consecration and Covenant Relationship

Gentry’s exploration of qadosh within the context of the Old Testament shows that its primary usage relates to objects, places, and people that are consecrated to God. This consecration involves a covenantal commitment that marks them as belonging to God in a special way. For example, the nation of Israel is called to be holy because it is chosen and set apart by God to fulfill His covenantal purposes (Exodus 19:6).

The holiness of God, therefore, signifies His absolute dedication to His covenant with His people and His purposes. Gentry points out that this devotion is not just about moral purity but about God’s unwavering commitment to justice, righteousness, and the fulfillment of His promises. This understanding shifts the focus from a legalistic purity to a relational and purposeful consecration.

Holiness and Devotion in Greek Thought

In examining the Greek counterpart of qadosh, Gentry notes that the Greek word ἅγιος (hagios) similarly carries the connotation of being devoted or dedicated. He references the Greek-English Lexicon by Liddell, Scott, and Jones, which defines ἅγιος primarily as “devoted” or “dedicated.” This aligns with Gentry’s argument that both the Hebrew and Greek terms for holiness emphasize a relationship of commitment and devotion rather than merely being separate from impurity.

These linguistic roots, once understood, provide the foundation for correct theology and human flourishing. But there are theological and historical roots that leave us with no doubt about the meaning of the word.

Holiness in the Context of Covenant

Throughout the Old Testament, Gentry points out that holiness is deeply rooted in the concept of covenant. Israel’s call to be a holy nation was not merely about avoiding contamination but about being a people devoted to God’s covenantal mission. This mission was primarily an offensive operation, not a defensive one. Note that the telos of the covenants is outward-facing. Abraham was to receive God’s unconditional covenant so that he could be a blessing to the world.

In the book of Isaiah, for example, God’s holiness is portrayed through His unwavering commitment to justice and righteousness. This divine commitment in Isaiah is not about withdrawing his people into stagnant colonies but about expanding the reign of a kingdom that would stretch over the four corners of the earth.

Without reflecting on the bend of the covenants which form the arc of the Old Testament narrative and what God is doing in the heavens and the earth, one might misunderstand what it means to be holy as God is holy.

Challenging Reclusive Interpretations

Gentry’s analysis has significantly challenged my previous understanding of holiness. Traditionally, I associated holiness with transcendence and moral purity, often leading to an inward-focused and withdrawn stance. However, Gentry argues for a holistic understanding of holiness that includes a relational fidelity to God and His purposes.

This perspective has reshaped my view of how holiness should manifest in our lives. It’s not about cultural isolation or being anti-social—although, I don’t want to downplay the virtues of consecrated isolation. Instead, it’s about being a transformative presence in the world, committed to God’s justice, love, and righteousness. Holiness calls us to engage with culture and society actively, rather than withdrawing as a virtue in itself.

The Messianic Hope: Renewal and Engagement

Gentry uses the powerful metaphor from Isaiah’s vision, where a seemingly dead tree represents the Davidic dynasty, yet out of its stump springs new life. This imagery captures the essence of the messianic hope—a future renewal and fulfillment of God’s promises. It illustrates that holiness involves not just judgment and separation but also hope, renewal, and active participation in God’s redemptive work.

For modern believers, this means living out holiness in a way that brings new life and hope into our interactions and engagements. It’s about being involved in our communities, advocating for justice, and reflecting God’s character in our daily lives.

Living Out Holiness Today

So, how do we live out this broader, more engaged understanding of holiness today

Expanding on these points, let’s delve into two more themes that Gentry’s insights bring to light: Holiness as Identity and Mission and Holiness in the Modern World.

Holiness as Identity and Mission

Holiness is not just a state of being but also a defining aspect of our identity and mission as believers. Gentry’s interpretation suggests that holiness should shape how we see ourselves and our purpose in the world.

  • Identity: Being holy means understanding that we are set apart not for isolation but for a distinct purpose. Our identity in Christ as a holy people calls us to live differently—not by retreating from society but by engaging with it in ways that reflect God’s kingdom values.
  • Mission: Our mission as holy people is to embody God’s love and justice in tangible ways. This means being proactive in our communities, addressing needs, and being a voice for the voiceless. It’s about living out our faith in action, showing that true holiness involves transformative engagement rather than passive separation.

Holiness in the Modern World

In today’s fast-paced and often polarized society, the call to holiness can seem challenging. However, Gentry’s perspective offers practical ways to navigate this.

  • Integrating Faith and Life: Holiness means that our faith should permeate every aspect of our lives—from our work and family to our interactions and decisions. This integrated approach prevents the compartmentalization of our beliefs and encourages a consistent witness in all we do.
  • Balancing Separation and Engagement: While holiness involves a certain level of separation from sin, it doesn’t mean avoiding the world. It’s about engaging with society from a place of integrity and commitment to God’s standards. This balance allows us to be in the world but not of it, influencing culture positively without compromising our values.
  • Embracing Cultural Diversity: Holiness doesn’t mean rejecting cultural diversity but celebrating it within the framework of God’s kingdom. Engaging with different cultures can enrich our understanding and practice of faith, helping us to reflect God’s love and justice more fully in diverse contexts.

Gentry’s exploration of holiness challenges us to move beyond the narrow view of holiness as mere separation. Instead, it calls us to a deeper, more engaged understanding of what it means to be holy. By embracing this holistic perspective, we can live out our faith in a way that is devoted to God and actively involved in the world, reflecting His justice, love, and transformative power in all we do.

Holiness, therefore, is not about retreating from culture but about engaging with it in a way that reveals and honors God’s character. It’s a call to be fully committed to God and to reflect His holiness in every aspect of our lives. Whether through our personal interactions, community involvement, or advocacy for justice, living out holiness means being a transformative presence in the world, dedicated to God’s purposes and embodying His love and righteousness.

For further reading and to explore the detailed insights presented by Professor Peter Gentry, you can access his paper, “No One Holy Like the Lord,” published in the Midwestern Journal of Theology.

Battling Fruit Orchard Pests and Diseases in Illinois

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For the past two years, our backyard orchard in Northern Illinois has faced relentless challenges. With over 20 fruit trees, including apples, peaches, pears, nectarines, and plums, and seasonal citrus like lemons and limes, we’ve dealt with a host of pests and diseases. From aphids and Japanese beetles to peach rust and leaf curl, we’ve had to do the research and the work on how to prevent these diseases from killing our beloved fruit trees.

Our Approach: Copper, Sulfur, and Neem Oil

To manage these issues, we use copper, sulfur, and neem oil sprays. These treatments have been essential in keeping our trees healthy. Here’s how we use each one:

1. Copper Fungicide: Copper fungicide helps prevent fungal diseases like apple scab and peach rust. We spray copper every other week, which stops these diseases from spreading by preventing fungal spores from growing.

2. Neem Oil: Neem oil tackles pests and fungal issues. It disrupts the life cycles of pests like aphids and beetles, reducing their damage. It also helps control fungal diseases. We alternate neem oil with copper weekly to keep our trees protected.

3. Sulfur Fungicide: Initially, we mixed sulfur with our other treatments, which didn’t work well. Sulfur is effective for its antifungal properties, but it should be used separately. Now, we apply sulfur on off weeks from copper to avoid any negative interactions.

The Application Process

Every weekend, we prepare a fresh batch of either copper or neem oil in a one-gallon manual pump sprayer. We spray all parts of our trees, ensuring good coverage. This weekly routine is simple and crucial for maintaining our orchard’s health.

However, rain complicates things. If rain is forecasted soon after spraying, it can wash away the treatments, making them ineffective. We’ve learned to adjust our schedule around the weather, aiming to spray on dry days and reapplying if rain follows within a couple of days.

Observations and Outcomes

We learned the importance of starting treatments early in the season. Spraying should begin as soon as the buds start to open in the spring. Missing those first few weeks resulted in more extensive damage because the leaves emerged unprotected.

Despite the initial setbacks, our treatments are effective. Diseases have been controlled, although early damage is visible. Leaves have holes from rust, but the infections are now inactive, and the trees are recovering.

Managing Pests

In addition to spraying, we’ve had to take direct action against pests. Japanese beetles require a hands-on approach. We knock them into soapy water to kill them. For aphids, a toothbrush or similar bristle tool works well for brushing them off with a solution. These methods complement our spraying routine, helping to manage infestations more effectively.

Lessons Learned

1. Start Early: Begin spraying as soon as buds break to prevent issues. Delaying can lead to significant damage.

2. Stick to a Schedule: A weekly spraying schedule works well for us. Adjusting for rain is necessary; if rain is expected, delay spraying and resume when it’s dry.

3. Combine Methods: Use sprays alongside manual pest control. Knocking beetles into soapy water and brushing off aphids are effective additional measures.