Some time ago, I discovered that our church has a time capsule.
It occurred to me that this device would be an ideal way to offer some thoughts, reflections and maybe even some wisdom to those who come after us. But what do you say to a people yet to be born?
I’m writing this in 2026 in my 67th year, and I wanted to offer these words to you. You may find them interesting and maybe even helpful.
I had hoped in my lifetime to see the quietening of the guns of war, but my dreams were naive and idealistic. With the immediacy with which we can receive images and words from anywhere in the world, I am more acutely aware than ever of our disharmony and animosity.
We were seduced by the internet in this age of the screen. We were promised connectivity with one another. We were told that it would save us time and make our lives simpler. Instead, we used the cold, hard screen to spread our more spurious thoughts to millions in a matter of seconds.
We work harder now with less leisure time because we are connected to our work, not each other. We expected more of ourselves just as our overseers expected more of us. Work smarter / not harder was a common catchphrase. We lost our identity behind the anonymity of the screen.
But there were silent little ones who believed that all was not lost. There were saints who chose to put others first in visible, tangible, touchable ways, and their efforts were all the brighter and more powerful because of the plastic environment in which we lived.
Go gently, then, friend. Make every unretrievable moment count for where we have failed and gone wrong, awry; you have the opportunity to get it right in ways that we never could.