The mental exercise referred to as "Schrodinger's Cat" has become a part of our everyday conversations thanks to its appearance in The Big Bang Theory TV show.  The thought experiment was designed to help understanding of how quantum physics interacts with our more observable Newtonian physics based reality.  In the experiment a cat is placed in a box (I'm guessing a solid, soundproof box) with a radioactive isotope detector that is connected to a device that can smash a vial of poison.  The moment the detector senses an isotope (a random occurrence that may never happen), it signals the device to break the vial, which releases the poison and kills the cat.  Without observation, after a period of time it becomes impossible to know if the cat is alive or dead, and can thus be thought of as existing as both alive AND dead until someone opens the box and observes the cat's current state.  Quantum particles work the same way, existing in multiple states until forced to come into contact with our Newtonian universe.

Leave it to a male scientist to come up with such a grim experiment when the same point could have been easily made with a common, life-affirming event: pregnancy.  From the moment a woman discovers that she is pregnant, her child exists in multiple states: male or female, looking more like the mother or the father, healthy or not, etc.  Until the child is directly observed (through ultrasound, other sorts of testing, or birth), that child exists in all states at once.  While people might make guesses about the outcome, only the direct observation brings the child's state into certainty.

Women have known this long before Schrodinger patted himself on the back for his disturbing scenario.  This is why the birth of a child, beyond its physical and hormonal issues, can bring such trauma to a woman despite it being a happy event.  For the mother, the birth of the child reveals that child's ultimate form, but also puts to "death" the other possibilities that the child could have been (not to mention ending the mother's intimate and continual contact with the child).  Even an ultrasound determining a baby's gender can give both joy and sadness; while the parents might rejoice in knowing they are going to have a beautiful baby boy, that knowledge also "kills" the gorgeous baby girl who might have been.

While I connected these ideas, I can't take full credit for them.  It was the second book in the Outlander series, Dragonfly in Amber, by Diana Gabaldon that took me down this line of thought.  As much as some of the scenes in her books disturb me (I almost didn't make it through the first book), I have found a number of gems that have made me examine my world in different ways, which is exactly what good literature should do.

As for Schrodinger, perhaps he should have consulted with a mother before making people think about zombie cats.

Today's first reading and Gospel both use the parable of the vineyard owner.  In both cases, the vineyard owner builds a wall (or hedge), a wine press, and a tower.  In the first reading, wild grapes take over his fields.  In the Gospel, he rents out the land, but when he sends servants for his portion the harvest, the tenants beat, abuse, and kill them.  He then sends his son, hoping they will respect him, but they they abuse and kill him too.  In both cases, the landowner eventually abandons the land or the tenants and seeks others who will be productive.  These aren't nice tales.  They don't have happy endings.  They warn about neglecting the will of God, that the rewards promised to us will go to others if we don't do our part in making the world a better place.

In truth, my focus this mass was not on the readings as much as on the homily.  Our pastor discussed the role of exorcism in the Catholic Church.  It was one of the longest sermons that I can remember.  While it dealt with the presence of the devil and demons in our world (a topic that I wrote about this week, even), I found myself not being entirely accountable.  Instead, I was worrying about the length of the mass, especially since there was also a baptism.  I usually don't mind long services, myself (in fact, I miss Fr. Jim's three hour Easter Vigil), but I know that they stress out my father, and that my wife had a meeting today.  So, as the homily went on, I couldn't help but feel my anxiety grow.

My mind tends to wander anyway.  I even have that problem when I'm praying on my own.  My thoughts drift.  When I was younger, I intentionally brought my daydreams to the forefront of my thoughts as a way to pass the time more quickly.  Now that I have a better understanding of the beauty of the mass, I still find those childish habits returning and my focus disappearing.  I still listened to the parables about the vineyards and the discussion about demon possession, but I did not give them the concentration I feel they deserved.

I suppose that this is how some of my students feel as I talk about history.

Were I to get complete control (and I mean complete control) of a school or school system, there are a few things that I would like to change.  Probably the most important of these things would be the structure of the school day itself.

For one, our schools start too early.  Despite a plethora of studies that show that middle and high school students benefit the most from late starts to the school day, we continue to force students to be to school before 8am (let alone the recommended 9am).  Even college age students do their best to avoid 8am classes.  Yet we have some students who, due to practice schedules, actually have to be at the school by 6:30am.  When you add in hours of homework, after school activities going throughout the evening, and television studios putting their most attractive (to high school age students) shows after 9pm,  it is no surprise that many students are yawning through their school day.

To make matters worse, we throw too many subjects to them through the school day.  A full load at the college is between 12-18 credits (with 18 pushing the limit).  That's the equivalent of three to six classes a semester that meet between one to four times a week.  Most high schools run a six-class schedule, with students having to juggle the maximum subjects of most college schedules while meeting for five hours a week for each subject.  Despite what many politicians claim, our students are actually in school too long.

We also need more selection for our students.  Right now they are packed into classes that supposedly teach the same standards at the same time even though we know that students learn differently and at different paces, and even though we know that not all of our students will need the exact same lesson at the same time.

Later starts and a varied class system with fewer on ground hours is a program that has made our colleges and universities some of the best in the world.  I know that we would still need to supervise our students through the school day (something that colleges don't need to worry as much about), but we could do so by allowing students to pick tutoring centers during the time that they are not in direct instruction classrooms.  These centers could range from study halls that provide a quite place to work, recess areas to give some of our students that much needed activity that they are often denied, "reruns" of courses so they get a double hit of the info, student-led group study sessions, or even one-on-one tutoring.

There are flaws with my proposed system, but I think that it's better than most schools are doing right now.  Granted, any system is going to do poorly under the current financial and legislative constraints that public schools are currently under.  Still, it's nice to dream.

Today's Gospel gives a short, but important, parable.  In it, the father asks his two sons to complete a task.  One says he will, but doesn't even attempt the job.  The other says he won't but then goes and completes the task.  Jesus doesn't just want "yes-men."  Too often people claim they are Christian and then do not emulate Christ (for that matter, I've been guilty of this).  Worse are those who persecute others in the name of Jesus.  Jesus specifically says that the outcasts (prostitutes and tax collectors) are more deserving of salvation than the religious of his time.

How about now?  Too often "Christians" are judging, harassing, and persecuting people they think are not deserving.  "Christian" candidates take away money from the neediest, put the harshest laws on crimes committed by the disadvantaged, and claim a moral superiority on ethical issues without addressing the causes.  Jesus preached to (not at) the underprivileged and the forgotten, the people who most of us would like to forget exist.  He warned us that we can't just "talk the talk."  We must put deeds behind our words.

Our homily today covered a different matter: the persecution of Christians at the hands of ISIS.  While our priest presented atrocities committed, my mind could not handle the level of slaughter that was discussed.  Now, I am a cynic at heart, and I know about the methods of propaganda as well as the misinformation that can come from a war zone.  What I have found is that while the details discussed in the homily might not be true, there is no denying that ISIS (or whatever name it has decided on today) is committing war crimes in Iraq and Syria.

A student of mine once told me that bin Laden was not a Muslim, that he might have claimed to be Muslim, but he was not a true follower as a true follower would not harm innocents.  I do not know how true that statement is, but I can't help but wonder the same about ISIS.  Do they realize that, although they might claim to be Islamic, they actually serve Satan?  Only Satan revels in this kind of bloodshed.

We need to be careful about how we interpret God's plans for us.  God is the ultimate judge.  I worry about those who claim to carry out judgement for Him.

Reading about St. Vincent de Paul on his feast day made me think about the concept of (and connection between) religion and charity.  What most impressed me about his work is that, unlike most religious orders of the time, he did not require his followers to live austere lives, to spend most of their day in prayer, or to separate themselves from the world.  Instead, he told them that helping those in need was a form of prayer itself.

We can be charitable in several ways: in giving of our treasure, in giving of our time, and in giving of our talents.  Within these categories of charity, we can find a number of ways to give of ourselves to help others.  Too often charity is thought of as simply a monetary donation, usually given around the time of Christmas.  True charity is about giving of oneself for the benefit of others.  It does not require fanfare or recognition.

This past summer, an enterprising marketing expert came up with the "ice bucket challenge."  It was (is?) an effective method of raising money and awareness for ALS (Lou Gehrig's disease) that tapped into people's desire to give of themselves, to fit in with others, and to make a spectacle.  While I am glad that money was raised to help end a disease (although that particular foundation supports the destruction of embryos), I am bothered by the way it required people to name or "challenge" others.  Charity should not be done through shaming.  Just because people didn't dump ice water over their heads doesn't mean that they don't give generously to good causes, and by giving, I mean more than just money.

We can all be more charitable in our lives, but we should do so on our terms, not out of fear of the fires of hell or out of pressure of the ice bucket challenge. 

Today's Gospel reading is disruptive to most people's versions of justice.  I suppose that it's one of the reasons why I like it so much.

In the Gospel, Jesus tells a parable about a vineyard owner who sends his overseers to hire people at several times through the day.  At the end of the day, starting with those who only did a few hours' worth of work, he pays every worker for a full day's wage.  The ones who worked the entire day, having seen the ones who worked for a shorter period of time paid the full day's wage, are angered when they receive the same amount.  The owner asks them why they are upset.  They have received what was promised them.  Why should they be upset that he was generous to others who were not as fortunate to find work at the beginning of the day.

This is what I love about Jesus's style.  He asks us to examine our most basic prejudices, preconceptions, and desires.  We are reminded in today's first reading that our "way are not [God's] ways," that God's thoughts are as high above our thoughts as the heavens are above the Earth.  This isn't bragging; it's a challenge, a lofty standard that we need to stretch out and reach.  In this case he warns us about "fairness."

"I worked longer, so I deserve more" is what the first workers are demanding, but God's justice is greater than that.  What about the unlucky?  What about those who still do the work, but join late due to circumstance?  Doesn't everyone deserve the full day's wage?  

I think of the men who gathered in job markets and street corners during the Great Depression.  All of them needed money for their families.  All of them were willing to take nearly any type of job.  Some would wait around all day with nothing to show for it.  Some would only get a few hours of work and thus a few hours of pay.  Jesus tells us that ALL need to be fed, provided for, and protected.

Of course, this parable is often quoted when talking about our ultimate salvation, but I believe that Jesus is telling us that this relates to our day-to-day lives.  Our economies should be based on this.  Our lives should be lived this way.  We need to rethink our concepts of fairness and justice.  We need to grasp for the ideals that Jesus has set for us.

I know that the title of my web site seems a little, well, weird to those who don't know me.  Even for those that do, I suppose the connotations of "weird" don't necessarily fit their vision of me.  The word "weird" can bring to mind the strange and grotesque, the mutated and perverse.  Yet here I am, proudly (or perhaps defiantly) referring to myself and my interests as "weird."

I suppose that a part of it is because I was called weird (or some derivation) so often while in school.  I have never really fit in with my peers, my community, or even with societal expectations.  Rather than take offense at this difference, I embrace it.  I am weird, and uniquely so.  Sometimes my weirdness is in my conformity to the "norm" while still obviously sitting outside of it.  I don't fit easily into the categories in which people are usually defined.  Even in the realm of geeks and nerds, I feel that I sit apart.

Truthfully, a good part of my weirdness is that I am rather content with myself.  Sure, there are things that I would like to improve, but even my oddities are something for me to celebrate rather than avoid.  "I celebrate myself and sing myself ..."

Soon after I arrived in Fairbanks for the first time, and after I had knocked on every door in my dorm, I decided to set myself apart.  I bought a bunch of construction paper, markers, glue, and moss.  I then made my dorm room door look like a castle wall, with moss between the "bricks," a construction paper sconce and torch, and the title "The Land of the Weird."  

Weird, no?

Today's readings focus on the Christian responsibility to help others make good decisions, but they each highlight this idea in different ways.

If this summer wasn't good for my professional ego, the past few days have more than made up for it.  The number of students who have expressed how glad they are to see me and the number of staff members who have expressed how much they like having me around has added up to a wonderful boost to my self-esteem.

I like what I do, and I feel that I'm pretty good at it.  Sure, there's room for improvement, but I work hard to make certain that my student's benefit from having taken a course with me.  There will always be those who hate me, and some who claim that having me as a teacher was a detriment to their lives.  For a while this summer, it felt like there were more of them than ever before.  These first days of school have changed that feeling.

This is why we as teachers need to remember the power of positive reinforcement.  It certainly works on me.  In truth, everyone needs to remember the power of kind words and friendly faces.  Whether it's on the job, in the home, or out on the town, a positive word or two can make all of the difference between enjoying life or dreading it.  May I make certain that I am providing that positive atmosphere to the people around me. 

Union-bashing has become much more rampant in the past few years.  Legislation with innocuous names such as "Right to Work" has been passed to actually undermine the rights of the workers.  Even today, a national holiday that is supposed to show the importance of the working class in America, finds many of the workers its supposed to be celebrating still hard at work with little cause for celebration.

Somehow, corporate politicians have led people to believe that safer working conditions, a living wage, and decent work schedules are un-American.  People have voted away their rights to fair pay, affordable education, and healthcare due to fear-mongering and downright misinformation.  Instead, they keep voting for tax-cuts to corporations and the highest paid citizens, the ability for jobs to be more easily moved overseas, and the legalization of environmentally damaging practices.   Ironically, they do so, usually believing that they are voting in their own best interests, even though the only real benefactors have been the richest 1% (not even 10%) of Americans.

I have stated before that there needs to be a Worker's Bill of Rights.  Without this sort of protection, corporations can buy legislation that tears away the rights of most Americans.  Perhaps this Labor Day, people will remember that simple standards such as the 40 hour work week and breaks in shifts longer than four hours were hard fought rights, but they were not meant to be the end (let alone be whittled away).  Maybe we can even remind those naysayers that America's economy improved under these changes to become the dominant economy in the world.

I have been reading a book on the lives of saints, reflecting on them on the days given to them (usually the day of their deaths).  Yesterday's and today's saints both had quotations that inspired something within me.

When I fed the poor, they called me a saint.  When I asked, "Why are they poor?" they called me a communist.
-Hélder Câmara

This idea sums up most of what I think about politics and economics.  People claim that they want to help the poor, but they do not want to examine the system that causes poverty in the first place.  Politicians often manage to put the blame of poverty on the people who are its greatest victims instead of accusing the true sources of unequal wealth distribution.  People who do point out the true cause are labeled as communist, socialist, or revolutionary.

Do not seek to understand in order to believe, but believe so that you may understand.
-Augustine of Hippo

I have seen so many good people get this idea backwards.  They want come kind of unequivocal proof before they are willing to believe in God.  I believe that the proof is in every breath we draw, in every atom that composes every piece of our world.  Because people deny what they see around them, how can any evidence persuade them?

Today's Gospel places Peter in the preeminent role of the Church that Jesus establishes.  Peter is the first of the disciples to acknowledge Jesus as the Messiah, and for this is rewarded with a tremendous responsibility.  Jesus gives Peter the keys to the Gates of Heaven, an awe-inspiring role if there ever was one.  

This is one of the cruxes of being a Christian: our reward for faithfulness is often more work and responsibility.  There are rules to follow, ideals to achieve, and examples to be set.  Being human, we will fall short from time to time, often to the derision of others.  Yet we need to keep in mind that God knows this.  Jesus handed Peter the keys to Heaven, but yet Peter's faith couldn't keep him above water.  Jesus knew that this same man who proclaimed Him as the Messiah would also disavow any knowledge of Him in His darkest hour.  Yet He still entrusts such a heavy responsibility of him.

While we hope to understand why God does what He does, we need to remember that we cannot see all that He sees, let alone all that He knows.  Today's homily compared God to a parent and us to a child needing surgery.  The child does not understand the suffering of the moment, but the parent (who is also agonizing over the pain and discomfort of the child) knows that the surgery must be done to save the child's life.  God wants to save all of us.  He feels anguish at our sufferings, but promises a greater reward.

When I first started teaching college courses in the evening, I was desperate enough for money that I taught classes at more than one school.  There was a stark contrast between the two.  One had a friendly and welcoming staff, a shorter term period, and composition classes that included literature.  The other had a staff that rarely responded to my questions, paid better per term but with longer terms, and had composition classes filled with "real world" readings.  There was no question as to which one I preferred.

A couple of years after devoting myself wholly to the first institution, it decided to change the policy of its composition courses.  Too many instructors devoted too much of the course to teaching literature rather than teaching composition through literature.  It's a subtle, albeit profound, difference.  To my horror, the sins of the few brought about a change in policy and literature was dropped from our composition classes.  I say "to my horror" because I had seen so many students open their minds as they were exposed to literature in my courses.  Many had only been exposed to great literature in the spoon-fed manner now common in so many middle and high schools.  For older students, this was their first reintroduction to literature in decades, and they found that life had refined their tastes to readings they had long discarded.  Unfortunately, my concerns were not enough to stop the machine, and literature has been removed from most of our students' lives.

Exposing people to great literature expands their minds and their vocabulary.  It gives them avenues of thinking that are otherwise unexplored.  It helps them to think of the greater world around them, to look a viewpoints other than those with which they are already too familiar.

We need literature, grand literature, in our lives lest they become pale imitations of lives.  We need literature to invigorate our senses and imaginations.  This cold, factory-like approach to teaching reading and writing rather than composition and literature is taking the soul out of our collegiate degrees.

All of today's readings, including the famous Gospel story of the loaves and the fishes (a miracle that actually occurs more than once in the Gospels), deal with the abundance of God's love for us.  Come to the waters, all who thirst.  Nothing can separate us from God's love.  God provides for all of our needs.

These ideas are so often used that people have become numb to the message: God is ready to accept and provide for all of us.  Even if we have turned away from Him, even if we have done terrible things, God's love is unending and always present.  He loves you right now, in this moment, even if you just blasphemed against Him.

Some people are afraid of that kind of all-inclusive love.  They turn away from it because they feel it's not possible or because, deep down, they feel unworthy of it.  It is possible and all are worthy.  Accept God's love and feel the peace it brings.