Tag Archives: uncertainty

Planting hope: Even facing the impossibility of family

We planted a dogwood tree in our little back yard. It is how we respond to Trump and his flailing fascism project.  We likely won’t see it come into its full glory. But, as we say, we will stay in the game of hope, realized or not, until the last buzzer.

In 1893 the U.S. Marines overthrew the government of Queen Liliuokalani of Hawaii; later that year the Panic of 1893 kicked off a economic depression. About that time, Lucy Larcom wrote a poem:

He who plants a tree
Plants a hope.
Rootlets up through fibres blindly grope;
Leaves unfold into horizons free.
So man’s life must climb
From the clods of time
Unto heavens sublime.
Canst thou prophesy, thou little tree,
What the glory of thy boughs shall be? — from Plant a Tree 

1n 1973 AIM activists occupying the Pine Ridge Reservation at Wounded knee surrendered to federal authorities after 71 days; later that year Alexander Butterfield informed the Senate Watergate Committee that President Nixon had secret recordings of incriminating conversations. Wendell Berry wrote a poem:

Ask the questions that have no answers.
Invest in the millennium. Plant sequoias.
Say that your main crop is the forest
that you did not plant,
that you will not live to harvest.
Say that the leaves are harvested
when they have rotted into the mold.
Call that profit. Prophesy such returns. — from Manifesto: The Mad Farmer Liberation Front

Spend a minute with me and let’s nurture some seeds of hope with the poets.

We have a shortage of hope

One of our old friends was visiting last week so we invited the family over for dinner. I was impressed by her being impressed by their sense of security. They give me hope.

But they are inheriting a world full of insecurity. We’ll see if they become tree planters, or if they have grandchildren of their own.

You are probably aware that the birthrate is going down all over the world — especially in places where women have the right to choose their own destiny rather than being subject to a man. Their choice seems to be a strange thing to need to point out, but equality in the U.S. is not a done deal AT ALL. In 1973 the Supreme Court ruled in Roe v. Wade and we can see how fragile that was.

There are many reasons women are not giving birth at rates that sustain their nation’s population. In the New York Times this week, Anna Louie Sussman said the main reason is hopelessness. Married couples cannot justify launching their child into uncertainty. Sussman is the author of the forthcoming book Inconceivable: The Impossibility of Family in an Age of Uncertainty.

Prospective parents may be hopeless because they are godless people who think they are stuck with gaining enough power to rule their private world — and they can’t control it well enough. Or they may be hopeless because the rulers of the world in the last 30 years (here is your list of billionaires)  have infested the ground with weeds of disaster that overwhelm their every positive step.

Sussman provides an example of this new instinct among potential procreators:

Raleigh Rivera and her husband had spent five years fine-tuning their parenthood plan: In 2025, they would move from Los Angeles, where they have been living since 2023, back to Ms. Rivera’s hometown, Minneapolis, where they could afford to buy a home and start a family. “We both have been baby- and kid-crazy for our entire lives,” she said.

They had planned to start trying when Ms. Rivera turned 30, a birthday she celebrated last summer. But that same year, everything that had felt stable to them started to crumble. It began with the Palisades and Eaton fires decimating parts of the city they called home. The prospect of a first-time home buyer credit, something Kamala Harris had campaigned on, had disappeared. By summer, Ms. Rivera’s parents in Minnesota were choking on smoke drifting over the border from Canadian wildfires. Her husband is a citizen, but since he is Mexican American, she worried that racial profiling policies put a target on his back. Ms. Rivera, who has a master’s degree in public health, worried about sending a future child to school with unvaccinated classmates. “We felt like we had worked hard on ourselves, making sure that our finances and our health and everything was in order,” she told me when we spoke in August. “And those plans are on pause right now because everything is — it’s just impossible to know.”

An age of uncertainty

Researchers run into this sense of impossibility wherever they go. I run into it in my therapy office almost every day. If you are trying to make useful policies for the future or you are predicting what future demographics will be so you can get ready, you need to factor in that young people bring an inescapable and crushing sense to the discussion — that the future is too uncertain for the lifelong commitment of parenthood. Sussman says, “Call it the vibes theory of demographic decline.”

The future has never been assured, but it feels as though we are living in a time of spectacular uncertainty. Here are the reverbs concocting a vibe:

  • In the United States, workers spend less years at a job and experience less stable income.
  • Life expectancy, once inevitably increasing, has fallen for less-educated women and men.
  • Many of the forces our economy is built on — A.I., immigration, global trade — feel distressingly volatile.
  • “Disruption,” once a byword for a disturbance or a problem, is the governing ethos of a terrifyingly powerful sector of our economy.
  • The rise of prediction markets has turned the world into one large casino.
  • The climate crisis is spiraling.
  • The costs of everything that could enable parenthood, whether that’s a roof over one’s head or child care, are unaffordable.
  • The past half-century has brought us breathtaking inequality, accompanied by a sharp decline in social mobility.
  • Even declining fertility rates feed the vibe: How will society function if each generation is smaller than the last?

The two generations currently of childbearing age bear the psychological and financial scars of coming of age during world-scale catastrophes. Their trauma amplifies the vibe:

  • Older millennials entered the labor market during the Great Recession; many watched their parents lose their jobs or homes.
  • Members of Gen Z, whose lives were upended by the Covid-19 pandemic, now find themselves competing against A.I. for entry-level jobs and even prospective partners.

Now the man running America seems single-mindedly devoted to chaos at home and abroad.

You can probably feel the anxiety rise in you as you read all this stuff, right? If not, turn on a screen. The Great Recession’s outsize impact may also be due to its status as the first economic crisis in the era of a nonstop digital information deluge, which rendered it, and the sense of dread it engendered, all but inescapable, even for people not financially affected. The same kind of impact is now generated by natural disasters, political upheaval and war from anywhere in the globe; no one is insulated.  We don’t just bear our own uncertainty, we bear the amplified uncertainty all around us as well. It is hard to disentangle from what concerns mostly others to concentrate on what concerns mostly you.

Faith boosts fertility

In some studies, researchers have found an element that boosts fertility: faith. And I don’t think they were just collecting J.D. Vance sermons. For many believers, faith provides deeper certainty.

The famous Romans 5:1-5 is basically a poem about hope in the hands of the paraphraser, J.B. Phillips:

Since then it is by faith that we are justified,
let us grasp the fact that we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ.
Through him we have confidently entered into this new relationship of grace,
and here we take our stand,
in happy certainty of the glorious things he has for us in the future.

This doesn’t mean, of course, that we have only a hope of future joys—
we can be full of joy here and now even in our trials and troubles.
Taken in the right spirit these very things will give us patient endurance;
this in turn will develop a mature character,
and a character of this sort produces a steady hope,
a hope that will never disappoint us.
Already we have some experience of the love of God
flooding through our hearts by the Holy Spirit given to us.

To read these lines in the manner Paul wrote them, we need to exercise our spiritual awareness deepening into Holy Spirit awareness. We can all get there.

But it might be hard to get out of the gnawing fear we feel to do so. The ordinary awareness of this present age is rifled with uncertainty. That has always been the normal state of humanity separated from God. But today it is even worse, as humanity is wrapped up in a virtual oneness under the thumb of the purveyors and manipulators of an artificial intelligence.

My family experienced a large dose of uncertainty last month due to death and illness in the clan. I’ve watched us reach for the resilience to cope with loss and change. Some have turned to faith, and love. And I think there is some shaky hope that some did not live by until they needed to. It is sad to find yourself old and in need of hope in the most uncertain of times – your old age in the age of Trump.

Phillips gets at what Paul has to say to to encourage us — young and old alike, very well, I think:

  • Grasp the fact that we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ.
  • Here we take our stand, in happy certainty of the glorious things he has for us in the future.
  • We can be full of joy here and now even in our trials and troubles.
  • Character of this sort produces a steady hope, a hope that will never disappoint us.

I don’t know about you, of course, but when I read those lines a few times, I felt better. I made myself read them again just now because I want to feel better.

When the Tennessee legislature bends the knee to Trump and turns back the clock that  briefly marked an attempt to undo the racism of the U.S. society, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ and we take our stand in that.

When I drove over the line from gentrification to devastation in North Philly last night, I knew we could be full of joy here and now even in our trials and tribulations, not because we don’t care that the world is an uncertain, cruel place, but because the love of God is being poured into it.

So we plant trees. We have children in hope. Not because we are certain the world is worthy of our love and trust. But because we trust the love being poured into it.

We grasp the peace and take our stand in the certainty that God has hope for US! Jesus is joy, itself, no matter what the passing-away powers do. If anything can change the world and change us to see the goodness built into it, it is people who hope like that.

The Trump fear factor: What we are doing about it

Rogan in younger days

Are you old enough to remember the first Fear Factor TV show?  According to your friend, Wikipedia, it was “an American stunt/dare game show that first aired on NBC from 2001 to 2006 and was initially hosted by comedian and UFC commentator Joe Rogan.”

After a summer of endless advertising, it was successful enough to be granted a full season right after the World Trade Center buildings were destroyed by airplanes on 9/11 and the United States started an unending War on Terror.

I think most of the population is still figuring our what to do with their personal war on terror. The media’s advice  was generally delivered via products like Fear Factor which proved a regular, beefed-up person, could basically do anything if they put their mind to it and had some way to film the deed.  Psychotherapists had increasing wisdom to offer, as well. They had been concentrating on trauma since the Vietnam War, and now began institutionalizing screening practices for it, summarized by Harris and Fallot in their seminal article. As a result, the Marvel superhero films, like The Avengers, began to showcase more complex and vulnerable heroes. They grappled with the trauma of relentless attacks by monstrous beings and faced the strain of dishing out violence while trying to have  principles.

Fear Factor is still going. It has become a successful franchise for selling packages of artificially-controlled trauma back to the people living in an age of overwhelm, and has spawned versions all over the world.  MTV aired a version with Ludacris as host in 2017-18 which included a Jersey Shore episode with Snooki and Pauly D. With the dawn of Trump 2.0 the time is ripe for an American reboot and it is planned for a fall premier later this year. People Magazine (still exists) quotes the advertising tag line: “Dropped into an unforgiving, remote location, a group of strangers will live together under one roof, and face mind-blowing stunts, harrowing challenges and a twisted game of social strategy where trust is fleeting — and fear is a weapon.” Some people might say that sounds like a recent school board public meeting.

The fear factor is background

I think we often gloss it over and talk about something other than our fear, even though we are afraid all the time. Don’t get me wrong, much of human development is a reaction to our fears, so saying we live in an “age of fear” could be a bit grandiose. After all, the ancient collection of the Bible is said to have 365 instances where we are told “do not be afraid” – since we are all afraid most of the time. If God is not with us and we are not with God, what will become of us?

It is easy to see our fearful reactions to the Trump turmoil. He’s the newest fear factor which has become the background of our days and his perverse nonsense will be a dark cloud on our summer picnics. I and over 80,000 others protested it all in Philly last Saturday. We don’t like living in an era where our fears are heightened, our reactivity is on a hair-trigger, and both rationality and compassion are constantly strained.

I can’t imagine your personal experience. But if it is anything like mine, you have also witnessed many people facing the newest fear factor. You could, no doubt,  add your own reactions to those I’ve noticed in others:

  • Schools and other institutions are still rushing to rewrite DEI language before they lose funds.
  • People are not buying real estate because of uncertainty.
  • People are finding new drugs to take for their anxiety.
  • High school and college grads can’t imagine what professions will be left after A.I. fully takes root.
  • Old people wonder how stable their nest egg is now that crypto is infecting their portfolios and a crypto family is in power.
  • People who would like to pastor the church but find other things to do because of the poisoned atmosphere for leading.
  • People are actively going through the process to claim birthright citizenship in other countries in case they need to escape the fascist U.S.

Recently, IMY2, a newer group from Nashville, ably covered Buffalo Springfield’s famous indictment of the fear factor from 1967: “For What It’s Worth.” It is the perfect soundtrack for scenes of Senator Padilla being wrestled to the ground. I shouted “Hey, hey. Ho Ho. Kristi Noem has got to go” during No Kings Day. I hope she’s out before she “liberates” Philly.

June 14 was a hugely positive reaction

The media continues to highlight burning Waymos and assassinations, somewhat justifiably. But they also turned up to cover the over 2100 protests last Saturday — estimates of the number of protesters are still being formulated: so far, 5 million people is low, 11 million is high. So many people have been personally touched by the senseless, somewhat random governance of the goon squad let loose by our psychopathic president they got into the street.

Here are well known examples of the fear factor their signs referenced:

  • Scientists and researchers now fear speaking out publicly because their funding will be cut. Their livelihoods are threatened and they are intimidated.
  • Journalists, foreign and domestic, are harassed and funding is cut to free speech institutions that took years to develop.
  • Trump’s first 100 days upended the global order led by Americans which painstakingly developed cooperation and created mechanisms to solve differences.

  • People are becoming more aware and Trumps approval numbers are slipping. A new president who leads a minority, not the country, is inherently destabilizing.

Governments are all about stability. At their best, they are about the common good. In functional democracies, they skillfully manage ongoing institutions that provide justice and services while they incorporate the changing needs  associated with societal development. They are much more complex than corporations and require people who devote great skill to maintaining them. When all that is absent, the fear factor immediately intensifies.

Seattle on June 14

Work on healthy responses to the fear factor

I personally loved how boring it can be when 80,000 people are out for a peaceful stroll together. The socialists, communists, and Free Palestine people were out last Saturday with their usual singlemindedness. But we just stepped away and joined the next 1000 people on their way to the Art Museum. We brought children, so one time we needed to start our own chant when all we heard was “Fuck Trump.” But most people were pretty happy. That’s one of the main ways to beat fear:

Be happy. Joy was in the air at the march, not just fear. Many of us were with loved ones. And we were with 1000’s of people who were with us. Being outside, being together, having a common purpose are all avenues to joy — I was praying, too. We need to hang on to joy.

Be creative. We were also making a protest together. And many of us made some very creative signs. Mine looked a bit like I might be in 4th grade — but I did put my marker to foam board which I had to go buy. I made the effort. It always feels good to make things. It is definitely joyless to destroy.

Talk about it.  Fear is dissipated when it is named. Sometimes trauma is hard to get to, of course, it gets locked in our most basic brain. But talking is probably better than anesthetizing it with the latest drug, for most of us. It was nice to have 80,000 people bringing up the subject.

Get righteously mad. Obviously, most Americans did not get to the protest. They might have honked their horn on the way to work or to attending to their aging mother’s medical needs. They may think Donald Trump will save them from gay marriage, Mexican rapists or other terrors. More likely they are opted out of everything because they are uncertain, alone and overwhelmed. Being angry and not sinning is good self-care. Last Saturday, shouting “Stephen Miller has got to go!” felt very good —  I got it out of the churn of the fear factor invading my peace. The churn died down for a bit. I intend to keep shouting.

Everyday worry: God’s love in uncertain times

As I look out my high-rise window right now, I can no longer see the Philly skyline. After a week of rain, we still have showers! — today the clouds are so low I am looking into one. Last year I think we had a drought, this year a deluge.

I felt like I was in a fog long before the clouds descended. I’m not alone. You might also feel like a dark cloud has dimmed the light since Trump took office and issued 150+ executive orders. Sometimes this thunder and flurry of paper feels like a storm cloud, but more often it just obscures our view of the future. I won’t go into the latest from his trip to the Middle East and the awful budget bill, the impact of tariff nonsense, general corruption, and Stephen Miller. I’ve done quite a bit of that lately.

Regardless of the details, the descent into authoritarianism is a cloud of worry over most of us. The other day I looked out into my life landscape and my generally positive future seemed nowhere in sight. I had the usual worry about clients and my relationships — but what about the country? What is happening to the church? Selling my condo has been Trumped. Other business interests are beginning to be impacted. The 27% of my zip code neighbors who live below the poverty line are being squeezed even more.

Worry is not good. There is help.

I was having trouble turning into the presence of God as I looked out my window and prayed, so I looked for some help. What I found might help you, too.

First, I went to the book I am reading: Companions on the Inner Way by Morton Kelsey. I thumbed back to s spot I had underlined. Kelsey notes how Jesus called God “Abba” and told us to do the same. He says “Abba” should be translated “Daddy,” not just Father. It is affectionate, familiar.

My own father was not as warm as I would have liked, so I have always relished my somewhat “secret” relationship with God I developed when I lived with him, which still feels warm. I am grateful for that.

I think many of us like Jesus the most when we see him with his disciples saying, “I will not leave you orphans, I will come to you.” I feel great sympathy for my clients who never had a parent who could be relied upon to show up in ways that communicated love to them. I have lamented with 30somethings who are still waiting for love to “happen” in their lives. They are still like children in the cradle waiting to be picked up. Or they are really “over” not getting picked up and will tell you they’ve given up on true love.

I was enjoying my relatively easy relationship with God when a stray thought wheedled its way into my mind. My somewhat passive acceptance of  God’s love is great, but I decided I needed to add some conviction to it. Lounging in God’s arms is good, especially when I am worried, and such repose should be constant. But in a day clouded with alarm everywhere I look, I think the feeling needs some kick.

Receiving grace should meet our conviction

My mind turned to the wonderful Romans 5

We have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have obtained access to this grace in which we stand, and we boast in our hope of sharing the glory of God. (vv. 1-2)  

There is Abba gracing me with that wonderful safe place to stand every day and delight in the hope of glory. But Paul goes on with the kick.

And not only that, but we also boast in our afflictions, knowing that affliction produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit that has been given to us. (vv. 3-5)

There is the conviction we need to apply. God’s love has been poured into my heart, and I’ve got plenty of affliction. Paul thinks that reality is going to result in something good. The Spirit is activating the conviction zone. I think of conviction as a response to the Spirit nudging me — that’s a good reason I discipline myself to pray every day, so I can get nudged.

Even more, conviction is the passionate action I take after I’ve turned into God’s embrace. My football coaches taught me this by saying (well, yelling at me a lot), “White, it is great you know the plays. But you don’t block and tackle with enough conviction (they probably said balls, or guts, and they really meant malevolence). If you don’t act with passion, nothing good will come of your understanding. I apply that lesson to loving. Love is a gift we experience from God; but it does not become something we live until it meets with  conviction and becomes our passion, too.

Love received. Love given.

I have so much experience with the Bible, I could then pull up two more places that guided me further. (Therefore, learn the Bible people).

I did not even try to remember where the phrase “mountains falling into the sea” was in the Bible. I Googled it. I guess I did not really need to find it. I knew the gist because I was experiencing it. I feel like the mountain of the U.S. I am used to is falling apart. It is unraveling before our eyes. A lot of us are watching it or trying to ignore it. And millions of us are convicted to respond. (Were you out on the street last Saturday? What are you planning for June 14?).

Google pointed me toward the famous Psalm 46. Here is the part I was looking for from Jonathan Alter’s translation:

God is a shelter and strength for us.
a help in straits, readily found.
Therefore, we fear not when the earth breaks apart,
when mountains collapse in the heart of the seas.
Its waters roar and roil,
mountains heave in its surge.

As I pondered that poetry in the middle of my dire straits, an old song rose up. It was very popular in the early days of our former church.

Even if you did not take the time to listen to it, just try on this mantra. It is the prayer of love meeting conviction:

Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders.
Let me walk upon the waters
wherever you would call me.
Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander,
and my faith will be made stronger
in the presence of my Savior.

These lines are a jolt in the middle of the song. When we sang it as a church, we would get progressively louder and more convicted as it repeated.  Glorious. I was glad to recall the experience the other day when mountains were falling and the waters were rising. I am called into new things in my old age. I need stronger faith for stronger worries.

Truly alive in the middle of uncertainty

I love how Oceans is a mash up of Psalm 46 and the story of Peter being called out of the boat in the storm. When we sing it, we start out being comforted by God in the middle of straits frothing as mountains crumble into them. Then the mantra reflects Peter seeing the Lord walking on water and getting out of his storm-tossed boat. I didn’t go to the Bible to find Peter’s story. I did not really need to, since I’ve heard it from flannel graph to commentary. What’s more, I’d just seen it on YouTube in an excerpt the creators The Chosen have uploaded. It is moving.

Even if you did not watch the scene, know that one of the good things about this video rendition is it does not shy away from the fact that we experience a lot of uncertainty and trauma which undermine our faith. We will always want to cry out and have Jesus save us and not leave us alone, just like we wished our parents had been more adept. God will not leave us orphans. At the same time, we will always need to grow out of our old selves and into our new – need to keep our eyes on Jesus and get out of the confines of our present understanding. Affliction produces endurance and endurance produces character.

Character is the fruit of conviction. We are not orphans. Great. But can you imagine a better time in history to have the love of God meet you in your trouble and energize your conviction to be truly alive in the middle of it and even make a difference? I keep telling myself “Endure the worry. Jesus is with you. The love of God is alive in you, even if the storm seems long.”

Astrology: What it is and why it is still attractive

I opened up Susan Miller’s popular astrology website and checked what she says about my sign. I’m an Aquarius. I’m one of the 90% of us who know our signs. Even though I am a skeptic when it comes to astrology, I was surprised at how accurate her description of me felt: “Ruled by Uranus, the planet associated with striking and unexpected change, rebellion, surprise, individualism, and at times eccentricity, you are happiest when you can freely follow the path you’ve chosen without interference from others.” Apart from being “ruled by Uranus,” I think my wife characterized me the very same way last week when we were having a difference of opinion.

The word is, a growing number of people, particularly millennial women, are turning to astrology to help them judge relationship compatibility, understand friendship dynamics and make life decisions. What keeps astrology going? Maybe, we’re all just looking for answers in an uncertain world — at least that’s what Ali Roff Farrar and her husband James think; they are influencer types, personal trainers and wellbeing experts.

Are the stars aligning?

Cuneiform planisphere

If you need to, you can blame the Babylonians for astrology. They were the first to organize a system. Until the 17th century, astrology was a common pursuit by scholars and the general population. The Bible writers refer to it as common sense. The Magi in Matthew 2 might have followed star signs from Babylon. In Luke 21 Jesus refers to signs in the sun, moon and stars. I call it a kind of “second tier” spirituality. The Apostle Paul, in Colossians 2, teaches us to raise our sights:

See to it that no one takes you captive through hollow and deceptive philosophy, which depends on human tradition and the elemental spiritual forces [basic principles] of this world rather than on Christ.

For in Christ all the fullness of the Deity lives in bodily form, and in Christ you have been brought to fullness.

“First tier” spirituality is centered on Jesus and results in personal transformation and a true self lived in harmony with God, creation and others. [Post applying the two tiers].

Nevertheless, people have looked to the stars for guidance for thousands of years. As the sciences developed, skepticism about the tradition of astrology deepened. Modern science has found almost every immaterial notion to be unreliable. For instance, many studies have found the personalities of Aquarians are not determined by the stars. This little study from the Age-of-Aquarius-1970’s is often quoted to that end.

A widely-cited National Science Foundation study in 2014 found that skepticism around astrology was decreasing. But that might be because people don’t know the difference between astrology and astronomy. Die-hard astrologers interpreted the findings to say a new generation was embracing astrology with open arms. The study said half of 18-24 years-olds believed astrology (or astronomy, perhaps) is a scientific tradition. Eight years later, those 26-32 year-olds are keeping the astrologers and Instagram wellness gurus in business.

Astrology has staying power. Many people are still turning to astrology and studying their horoscopes with diligent faithfulness. Linda Goodman’s Sun Signs (1968) is still a go-to guide for them. It is the only astrology book ever to enter the New York Times best seller list. It was republished in 2019, sells in many formats, and still  converts people. 60 million copies of her books have been printed.

Astro Poets

From the look of my social media searches, a lot of people are into astrology. The private FB group “Astrology Guidance,” based in India, has 158,000 members. The Urban List will tell you who to follow on Instagram. TikTok will help you find astrologers on their site. The Astro Poets, Dorothea Lasky and Alex Dimitrov, give amusing advice to their 707K followers on Twitter (@poetastrologers). Some people are making money, of course. But a lot of people are just sharing their passion.

The “wellness industry” is booming. The #selfcareohyeah audience is tuning into their physical, mental and spiritual health. Circle Counseling therapists have most of their time slots filled. If there is increased interest in astrology, it is probably rising with an increased interest in all things “wellness.”

Lost certitude leaves people scrambling?

If  anything is certain now, it’s that we are living in an age of uncertainty. Untrustworthy leaders, an impossible-to-climb-onto property ladder, climate change, the remnants of the pandemic and poisonous politics all add to feelings of ambiguity and insecurity in our lives. We are all wired to avoid uncertainty, and it produces acute stress responses [a study about that]. When we can’t know how our futures will play out, we turn to things that promise us insight. Jesus told a story about a man who felt content in his certainty

And I’ll say to myself, “You have plenty of grain laid up for many years. Take life easy; eat, drink and be merry.”’

 “But God said to him, ‘You fool! This very night your life will be demanded from you. Then who will get what you have prepared for yourself?’

 “This is how it will be with whoever stores up things for themselves but is not rich toward God.” (Luke 12:19-21)

His story was about how people choose other, vain means to address their desperation rather than trusting God. Astrology is one of the ways people try to get a sense of control, especially in uncertain times.

Application of the spectrum

The information our horoscopes offer is not accurate. Anyone can see that. But astrology does give some sense of control over one’s life. When uncertainty causes us to feel out of control, we tend to lean toward one end of the spectrum of locus of control or the other.

  • On one extreme are those who act according to an  internal locus of control. They think that ultimately, we are each responsible for the events in our lives. There is no such thing as fate or destiny; people who work hard get what they deserve.
  • People on the other end have an external locus of control. They think something or someone else is responsible for the outcome of their lives, like the movement of the stars and planets, the “universe,” and many surrender their agency to their society or the rules of their religion.

Statistically, women are more likely to lean toward the external end, believing their lives are guided by fate, luck or destiny (representative study). This correlates with research showing more women believe in astrology than men (Pew 2018). So, for those of us who believe that forces greater than ourselves guide our lives, astrology is one place that offers answers, direction and meaning.

Followers of Jesus are finding an organic sense of their agency as part of creation in relationship with the Creator. We are called to value our unique expression of the image of God with which we are born and value the restoring work of Jesus as we learn how we fit into and experience the wholeness we cannot supply for ourselves alone. Astrology may be a second tier expression of our yearning to know, to be safe, and to exercise our spiritual awareness. Trust in Jesus is the door into the first tier, where we discover the fullness of ourselves on the way into truth and eternal life.