Category: Pride

“Experts,” stupidity, and common sense

Published by Daniel on April 6, 2025

I have been called stupid more times than I can even count.

I have a bachelor’s and master’s degree, and I am 60 minutes short of a post-graduate degree. Still, I have been called stupid by individuals with just a bachelor’s degree and others with Ph.D.’s, and even by some with no degree at all.

Usually, it is because of my political opinions or my identity as a follower of Jesus. For those antagonistic to my personal views and who know my story, my stupidity is simply evidenced by those final 60 minutes of my postgraduate program (Note, even though my supervisors said my thesis was ready to go, it was rejected by my examiners. This served as the inspiration for my book “Losers Like Us.)

Because of those disastrous 60 minutes in England, I have been hesitant to engage in anything controversial because of that one measly hour. In the back of my mind, I brace myself for that particular insult.

However, even when nothing is said, the dread of those 60 minutes has haunted me since 2008—17 years ago.

Still, sometime during those years, society has changed in ways that helped me better appreciate and be thankful that it worked out that way.

Something has evolved in our society in the last five years or so that has actually broadened my perception. I was hoping to teach at a university years ago. I wanted to be the “expert” in my field whatever that was. I wanted my ideas to be in demand.

But that is not all it’s cracked up to be. Since COVID, the idea of expertise has had its mask ripped off its face. As much as they don’t want to admit it, experts are realizing that we think they’re just as stupid as we are. Sure, they have more letters after their name and can throw around big words when diminutive words would do. But the one thing missing in most ivory towers is common sense.

The last movie the late great Gene Hackman was in was a little-known comedy called “Welcome to Mooseport.” Hackman played a retired U.S. president who settles in the small town to build his presidential library and enjoy the pleasures of retirement. However, the town needed a mayor and approached him to run for the office.

After all, who wouldn’t want a former president as mayor of the town?

After he agreed to run, a dude who ran the local hardware store, played by Ray Romano, threw his hat into the ring.

On one side there is the former president, an expert in his field of running the United States, overshooting the runway on every issue, promising to organize a blue-ribbon panel to study the issue of a high number of car accidents at a particular intersection. On the other hand, there is a local yokel suggesting a tree should be pruned back a little so traffic could better see the stop sign.

Thus, the current state of the “expert.”

In March 2021, after the COVID lockdown, the magazine The Atlantic published a piece called “Following your gut isn’t the right way to go.”

It was the subtitle that got my attention: “The experts had a rough year. We still have to trust them. “

The experts haven’t done anything to redeem themselves. This week, I saw a video of a congressional hearing in which a Senator asked an expert if men could get pregnant. The expert, a “medical doctor” promptly replied yes. When the Senator challenged her on this, she responded with “I am the expert here.”

Now, I realize that I only got a C in high school Health class, but I can totally understand from that is that experts have a ways to go before I or anyone else take any advice from them.

Although I know it won’t happen, we should probably retire the idea that someone is stupid because we don’t agree with them politically, metaphysically, or theologically.

Like every other term that is overused, “stupid” no longer has the same impact it’s had since, I don’t know, the third grade.

Nowadays, if someone calls me stupid, whether it’s in the media, on a social media post, or to my face, I just ignore them. It’s far easier to do once you realize that personal insults thrown your way are simply evidence the “other side” has no response to your argument.

Still, the truth is I am stupid.

I’ll own it.

We all are.

Even the ones who lack the self-awareness to admit it.

But this is where it gets good.

When my postgraduate studies went up in flames, I locked on to 1 Corinthians 1:27-29. It has been my life verse for well over a decade:

“But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong. God chose the lowly things of this world and the despised things—and the things that are not—to nullify the things that are, so that no one may boast before him.”

If you’re a Christ-follower and someone calls you stupid—as they will—own it.

God has this extraordinary methodology through history to use us losers—stupid people by the world’s eyes—to do great things.

Without Jesus, one’s stupidity will do nothing more than just be stupidity.

Dropping my toe back into academia

Published by Daniel on March 3, 2025

This week, I jumped into something I hadn’t done in well over a decade. For the first time since my 2008 post-graduate debacle in England, I am “back in the classroom,” so to speak.

Not as a teacher, but as a student.

It’s an online course with Grand Canyon University. I am hoping to fulfill the final requirement for professional certification.

It’s been only three days, and I am surprised at the range of emotions I have been experiencing.

On one hand, it felt great to be a student again. I have always loved the learning environment. As a student, I have been out of the loop far too long.

On the other hand, I felt overwhelmed and intimidated. I honestly couldn’t believe how apprehensive I was.

Feelings I haven’t felt in years flooded over me: loss, rejection, humiliation. Feelings of 15 years ago burst forth.

I remember so vividly walking down the path at the university in Britain after my post-graduate thesis was rejected. I was numb. It was all I could do to simply put one foot in front of the other as I thought about the call I would soon make home, telling my wife that all that money, time, and energy is gone. It’s over.

I was certain that I would never be a student again.

Yet here I am, stumbling through the readings, work, and online discussions, trying to push away all my feelings of inadequacy.

“I am not qualified,” I’ve heard myself say. “This is outside of my wheelhouse. I am too old. My career takes a lot out of me, can I survive this? Do I have the energy? Will I flame out? Will I embarrass myself again?

Feelings I experienced so long ago.

I wasn’t sure I wanted to risk feeling them again.

However, even though my doubts, quitting is not an option. I almost get the feeling that God wants me to go forward.

I am reminded of words the Apostle Paul wrote long ago. These are words that helped me stumble and crawl through the darkest years following 2008:

“But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body.” (1 Corinthians 4:7-10)

It took me almost two decades to jump back on the horse and return to school even if briefly.

I lived in the safety away from being a student for so long. Now I am back, confronting my greatest humiliation. However, it is not to gain glory for myself, but to give total and complete glory to him.

When commenting on Paul’s words to the Corinthians, Chuck Swindoll said, “In order for God to release his sweet perfume over the world, he must first break the jar that holds it.”

There but for grace of God go I.

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Actions, not words – keeping the ego in check

Published by Daniel on July 30, 2023

God has this incredible but often annoying tendency to set me right when I get a little full of myself.

My ability to puff up my own ego is usually done subconsciously. In fact, I don’t wake up every morning thinking, “how can build up my ego today?”

I don’t go about seeking ways to do so.

Ego-building is done more passively.

It comes to me, either via a compliment, or positive statement, or an acknowledgement of an achievement.

Now there is nothing wrong with a compliment or even a good review of my book. In many ways, we all need those. However, when I don’t deflect those praises up to God, then I kind of tuck those warm-fuzzies away into a giant Hefty bag in the back of my head.

Eventually, that bag gets bigger and bigger, stretches more and more, until every molecule of that bag has reached critical mass.

That’s when God steps in and, with a tiny divine pin, pops that bag until it flits about my head making a deflating raspberry sound like air rushing from a balloon.

All that remains is the carcass of that garbage bag settling onto the floor.

Peter has always been one of the disciples with whom I most identify.

And not for the right reason.

Peter screwed up more openly—and dramatically—than the other disciples. Other than his open three-time betrayal of Jesus the night of the latter’s trial, Peter’s ego tended to fill up before the others. Impressing others with his spiritual acumen by saying the right thing at the right time would surely result in oooh’s and aaah’s from others around him.

Whenever I think of Peter, I think of his pattern in the Bible trying to show the others how spiritual he is only to have his ego popped by God’s divine pin of humility.

One infamous example, in Matthew 14, shows the disciples in a boat on the sea of Galilee during a particularly fierce storm (Matthew 14:25-32).

This situation is cause for alarm. Their boat is not one that typically is fitted for rough seas. It is not like a naval vessel or cruise ship which could generally survive a hurricane. No, you have to think of this in terms a large rowboat.

It is completely at the mercy of the waves.

If that wasn’t frightening enough, they were even more creeped out by the sight a figure coming toward them. It wasn’t another boat, which would make sense, but that of a man walking toward them.

Strolling along.

On the open sea.

As if he was on his way home from work.

If there was any clearer sign that they already sank and have crossed over to the other side, this would have been it.

Then they remembered that lived with the holy I AM, a God who is not bound by the universe’s laws of physics and hydrology.

After first thinking they were seeing ghost—hence the thought they might have crossed over—Jesus’s calling out to “take courage” quickly brings home the point that they are still firmly planted on earth.

Kudos for the disciples picking up on that as quickly as they did.

But the story doesn’t end there.

Perhaps wanting to show the others how spiritual he is, Peter shouts an impressive request: “Lord, if it’s you, tell me to come to you on the water” (14:28).

Peter must have felt pretty good about himself. In front of the others, he put his faith on display before the others. Surely that would be enough. Surely that would be all that was required. Surely Jesus would be thrilled at my—

“Come” (14:29).

Crap.

That response was not recorded in Scripture. I am guessing that was what Peter was thinking.

That is most certainly what I would think.

Words are easy when you are puffing yourself up. Anyone can say powerful things.

To impress others.

To impress yourself.

God, on the other hand, wants something else.

In John 1, the author introduces Jesus as God, the eternal Word (Logos). If there was a context where words matter, this would be it.

Even for God, however, being the Word is not enough. The Word took action, stepped from the throne, and became a human. Further, as a human, the Word lived, suffered, and experienced the one thing the eternal Word never could: death.

A brutal, horrible death.

The eternal Word became the ultimate sacrifice, reversing the curse of sin once and for all.

The Word took action.

Now, back to Peter.

Peter’s mortal words—“Lord, if it’s you, tell me to come to you on the water”—might sound admirable, but they require action.

Peter had to put his money where his mouth is.

Peter had to get out of the boat.

To his credit, Peter did.

Then he looked at the waves and sunk.

It only took a brief second for him to realize he can’t do it without Jesus.

For the Christ-follower, discipleship require actions more than words.

And actions require complete dependence upon him.

I get into that spiral where I am comfortable speaking words as opposed to actively living for Christ.

Words are enough.

Then God steps in to redirect me from myself to him.

Another Dan-ectomy.[i] I must have my ego ripped from God’s work. It is a spiritual surgery done by Dr. God, who doesn’t give me the option.

It’s not about me.

At all.

I receive constant reminders that I am not that great after all. Every time I speak words, I am reminded that I am not as great as I think I am. My mistakes become highlighted. For every victory of moment of praise that points at me, I get at least two reminders that people can get along just fine without me: an unfounded—or more frequently, founded—criticism, yet another example showing my that I am what could be considered a Jack-of-NO-traits, a copy of my book seen in a pile at a yard sale.

Whatever I do puffs me up.

Whatever God does through me shows it is all about him.

And for God to work through me requires that I take action.

I have to get out of the boat.

But like Peter, who cannot walk on water without Jesus, I can’t do anything without him either.

And when—not if— I sink, my only words should be “Lord, save me” (Matthew 14:30).

God can take it from there.

[i] This term is not my own. It actually was coined by Jeff Glover, a dear friend in my home community back in Portland several years ago. But it applies to me too.