Author: Daniel Harper

Walk in the woods

It’s a stressful time in the world right now — what with brutal wars in Ukraine, Israel/Gaza, Sudan, Myanmar, and elsewhere — and with economic uncertainty and political instability in the U.S. — and a host of other problems, like looming ecological collapse.

As a result of all these stress-filled events, there are lots of pundits telling us how we can reduce our stress. Recently, I’ve heard a number of pundits tell me that if I want to reduce my stress I should take a walk in the woods. (Before you get all snarky, yes I know this advice makes unwarranted assumptions: that I live in a bioregion where there are woods to walk in; that I live in a human place where enough woodlands remain to walk in; that if there are woods to walk in, they’re safe enough that you can walk in them; that I don’t have physical limitations that preclude walking in the woods. As it happens, I do live in a bioregion which does have woodlands, I’m fortunate enough to live near a 3,000 acre state park which is mostly wooded and mostly safe, and I am physically able to walk in the woods.)

I hate to tell those pundits, but taking a walk in the woods is not going to reduce my stress.

Yesterday, I took a walk in our nearby state park. In many places in that park, American Beech (Fagus grandifolia) are the predominant tree species. But our American Beeches are under attack, and most of the beech trees I saw appeared to be in poor health. To be blunt, beech trees are being killed off by invasive organisms.

First, there’s Beech Bark Disease (BBD):

“BBD is an insect-fungus complex that involves the beech scale insect (Cryptococcus fagisuga Lind.) and the fungi Neonectria faginata and Neonectria coccinea…. It is predicted that BBD will spread across the entire range of American beech in the United States in the next 40–50?years.” (Catalina Salgado-Salazar et al., G3 (Bethesda) [Genes, Genomes, Genetics]. 2021 Mar 9;11(4). https://doi.org/10.1093/g3journal/jkab071 )

The scale insect, which arrived in North America in the early twentieth century, spreads the fungus. The fungus infects the tree causing unsightly canker sores on the bark:

Smooth beech tree bark, with rough canker sores running across it
Beech Bark Disease on an American Beech tree in Wompatuck State Park

There is no known cure for Beech Bark Diseases. It often proves fatal.

Second, beech trees are also under attack from Beech Leaf Disease:

“Symptoms of beech leaf disease (BLD), first reported in Ohio in 2012, include interveinal greening, thickening and often chlorosis in leaves, canopy thinning and mortality. Nematodes from diseased leaves of American beech (Fagus grandifolia) sent by the Ohio Department of Agriculture to the USDA, Beltsville, MD in autumn 2017 were identified as the first recorded North American population of Litylenchus crenatae (Nematology, 21, 2019, 5), originally described from Japan.” (Lynn Kay Carta et al., “Beech leaf disease symptoms caused by newly recognized nematode subspecies,” Forest Pathology, 27 Feb. 2020 https://doi.org/10.1111/efp.12580 )

Here’s what the leaves look like after the nematodes have attacked them (I took this photo last May):

Beech tree leaves that are curled and discolored
Curled leaves of American Beech, showing damage by Beech Leaf Disease

As I understand it, foresters and dendrologists are still learning about Beech Leaf Disease. But it’s very clear that Beech Leaf Disease causes trees to lose most of their leaves, and it’s equally clear that Beech Leaf Disease eventually leads to the death of the tree.

As with Beech Bark Diseases, there is no known cure.

The upshot is that we’re going to lose all, or nearly all, of our American Beech trees in the next decade or so — just as we lost nearly all of our American Chestnut trees in the early twentieth century (due to Chestnut Blight, an invasive fungus), and just as we lost nearly all of our American Elm trees in the mid-twentieth century (due to Dutch Elm Disease, an invasive fungus), and just as we lost nearly all of our ash trees in the early twenty-first century (due to Emerald Ash Borer, an invasive insect).

Invasive organisms are predicted to be one of the major causes of the calamitous decrease in biodiversity that we’re now facing. I suppose you could go for a walk in the woods and willfully ignore these evidences of global environmental disaster. If you’re going to do that, you might as well engage in one of those chic mindfulness practices that helps you forget that anything bad is happening. And what the hell, if you need to be in denial — if that’s what it takes to reduce your stress and keep your sanity — then I say, go for it. But please don’t tell me that I should take a walk in the woods to reduce my stress — what works for you doesn’t necessarily work for me.

Partially buried

Limulus polyphemus with Crepidula fornicata.

Still haven’t finished the writing I’ve been working on, so you’re stuck with another photograph. This is an Atlantic Horseshoe Crab (Limulus polyphemus) partially buried in the sand of the Long Pasture Audubon sanctuary on Cape Cod. There are Atlantic Slipper Shells (Crepidula fornicata) attached to the top of the shell. This may have been a molted exoskeleton, but it appeared to be a living horseshoe crab that had partially buried itself in the tidal flats at low tide; I decided not to poke at it to see if it was alive.

Which religious groups support Trump?

One hundred days into Donnie Trump’s second reign — er, second term — which religious groups approve of him most?

No surprise — Trump continues to have high approval ratings among White evangelicals. In a recent poll, Pew Research found that 72% of White evangelicals approve of King Donnie — er, President Trump.

Here are the approval ratings for other religious groups in the Pew poll:

  • 72% — White Protestant Christian, evangelical
  • 51% — White Protestant Christian, not evangelical
  • 51% — White Catholic Christian
  • 40% — All US adults
  • 26% — Hispanic Catholic Christian
  • 26% — Religiously unaffiliated
  • 10% — Black Protestant Christian

I was a bit surprised that these approval ratings are very similar to Trump’s first term. In their report, Pew Research says: “Both among the U.S. public as a whole and among major religious groups, Trump’s current approval ratings are on par with what they were around the same time in his first term (April 2017).”

Not surprisingly, White Evangelicals support Trump’s extensive use of executive orders — 53% of them feel that Trump is doing about the right amount by executive order. Only 27% of White evangelicals think Trump is doing too much by executive order, 15% are unsure, and 5% feel he’s doing too little by executive order.

I’d be jumping to conclusions if, based on this one survey, I said that White evangelicals are OK with a president who’s seems to be trying to operate like a king. But I’m keeping that in mind as a possibility.

Read the report here.

Indoors Morris

It was raining today, so the Morris dancers at the New England Folk Festival had to do their thing indoors, in the dreary “Trade Center” next to the hotel. The danced in the middle of the cacophony and distraction of vendors and lunch tables and kid-friendly activities (hula hoops, anyone?). They danced under harsh LED lights instead of real sunlight.

Four Morris dancers lined up to finish a dance.
Ring ‘o Bells Morris NYC flourish their hankies at the end of a dance.

It didn’t matter. Ritual dance is ritual dance wherever you do it. It makes you feel that’s there’s something way older than you are. When a Morris side waves their hankies or hits their sticks together, no matter where it is, it can still give me goosebumps.

Morris dancers with sticks raised.
Renegade Morris about to hit each other’s sticks.

Yes, it would have been better outdoors. But even in a noisy corner of an unattractive trade center, it was worth watching.

Pub sing

We went to the New England Folk Festival, affectionately known as NEFFA, helf in a hotel in Marlborough, Mass. At NEFFA, there are a host of performances, demonstrations, and workshops, mostly relating to folk music or folk dance. Carol did some contra dancing and learned some Cuban dance. I heard a performance by some old folkies (sometimes pronounced “fogies”), attempted to keep up in a Renaissance music jam, and participated in a “pub sing” which was held in an outdoors tent.

On our way out, we happened across an actual pub sing, in the bar of the hotel. Now unlike English bars, American bars are often less than welcoming to singers. Besides, Americans tend to be consumers of music, not participants in music, and we in our bars we prefer to listen to either loud recorded music, or heavily amplified musicians. But this was NEFFA, so it was one of the rare occasions when you could go to an American bar where there was loud, live, unamplified, participatory music.

“The shot heard round the world”

Today is April 19, 2025. Probably that doesn’t mean anything to you, unless you’re a U.S. history geek, or unless you grew up in Concord or Lexington, Massachusetts. But today is the 250th anniversary of the Battle of Lexington and Concord.

While both the town of Concord and the town of Lexington have annual celebrations, with parades and reenactments, this year they both arranged special celebrations for the 250th anniversary. Fifty years ago, on April 19, 1975, I was in the parade in Concord, marching with my Boy Scout troop. Since I’m pretty sure I won’t be around for the 300th anniversary, I decided that I really had to attend this year’s celebration.

I wanted to watch the reenactment of the battle at the North Bridge, and I knew just where I wanted to stand — in the formal garden at the visitor center of Minuteman National Historical Park. From there you have a panoramic view of the North Bridge and the road down which the Minutemen and militia companies marched to confront His Majesty’s troops.

I should have read the information about the day more carefully. There was no reenactment this year. I was a bit disappointed. Still, I had a marvelous view of the crowds that gathered to watch the ceremonies, and the main events of the ceremonies themselves — the Concord Minutemen firing a salute from the bridge, and the 21 gun salute from a field on the other side of the river.

A panoramic photograph of the crowd watching the ceremonies.
The view from the formal garden, with the North Bridge in the distance.

The crowd looked a little thin to me; there were not nearly as many people as I had expected. While we were waiting for the ceremonies to begin, I wound up talking with the people on either side of me. To my left was a man from Albany, N.Y., who had attended the reenactment of Paul Revere’s arrival in lexington the night before, spent the night in his car, watched the reenactment of the Battle of Lexington at sunrise, then taken the shuttle to Concord. On the other side of me were a couple who live in Concord, who were kind of interested in the 18th century historical garb that several of the parade units wore; I was able to tell them where they could obtain 18th C. garb, but warned them that it could be expensive.

Congresswoman Lori Trahan and Massachusetts Governor Maura Healey were the only two state or national politicians to show up. Both of them gave good brief speeches, both of which emphasized how important resisting tyranny was in 1775, and still is today. I thought it was a little disrespectful that neither of our U.S. Senators managed to put in an appearance. I’m not surprised that President Donald Trump didn’t show up — though President Gerald Ford showed up in 1975 — but then Trump is not especially patriotic, and has a fairly weak understanding of U.S. history. It’s probably just as well that Trump didn’t show up, because he wouldn’t have been happy with the remarks made by Healey or Trahan, nor with the signs carried by some of the spectators.

A man holding a home-made sign reading "No Kings Then, No Kings Now."
A spectator watching the ceremonies at the North Bridge.

Most of the signs that I saw opposed the tyranny of kings. We didn’t want King George in 1775, and we don’t want a king now.

After the ceremonies at the North Bridge concluded, I made my way to the center of town, so I could watch the parade. On my way there, I saw more homemade signs opposing the tyranny of kings. Most of the slogans I’ve seen opposing the Trump administration have been variations on “Hands Off.” I much prefer variations on the “No Kings” slogan, because it gets to the root of what bugs me about the Trump administration — that he’s acting like a king, and all his supporters are OK with that. But we fought the Revolution to get rid of kings — we don’t want any more kings, not now, not ever.

A sign at the side of a street which reads "No Kings. Been there, done that."
Sign along the road into Concord center.

This year, the reviewing stand for the parade was set up in Monument Square, right in front of Town Hall. The units that put on performances — the fife and drum corps, the bands — always put on a show in front of the reviewing stand. It was crowded there. I moved down the street and stood in front of First Parish of Concord, the Unitarian Universalist church in town (the church the Minutemen belonged to). It was still pretty crowded there, but at least I could see the parade.

Crowds along Lexington Road in Concord, watching the parade.
The beginning of the parade.

Ever since COVID, I’m not a big fan of crowds. So I walked further along the parade route to where there weren’t that many people.

The Carlisle, Mass., Minutemen.

One of the flag-bearers from one of the Minuteman units was carrying a sign stating his opposition to kings. While this was not historically accurate, it seemed very much in keeping with the sentiments the 18th century Minutemen would have held.

Person in Minuteman outfit carrying a flag, and with a small sign saying "No Kings."
The Stow, Mass., Minutemen.

Again, it’s a good thing Trump the wanna-be-king didn’t come. Popular sentiment was definitely against him. It would have been as if King George showed up in Massachusetts in 1775. Massachusetts then and now is one of the leaders against tyranny. While there were Massachusetts Tories in 1775, and while there are Massachusetts Trump-ites in 2025, in both eras the majority of Massachusetts residents were and are Patriots who don’t want kings lording it over them.

Speaking of Patriots, I was also pleased to see the Town of Concord Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion Commission marching in the parade. They carried a banner that read, “Building a Welcoming Community.” I’m old enough to remember the mini-race riot that took place at Concord Carlisle High School on the last day of school in 1978 (I was a senior that year, so I had already graduated and didn’t see the riot myself, but I heard about it). I’d like to pretend that we solved all those race problems and that now everything is hunky-dory, but I guess I have a grimmer view of human nature than that. Human beings find it way too easy to hate one another, so we actually do need organizations that keep us from hating on other people.

Group of people carrying a banner.
The Concord, Mass., DEI Commission marching in the parade.

One last photo — this was one of my favorite units in the parade, the Assabet Village Minutemen. This unit is from Maynard, Mass., which wasn’t a separate town in 1775, it was a village known as Assabet Village. I like that they’re not wearing a uniform, which seems more historically accurate. I like that a couple of the men are wearing knit caps, not the stereotypical tricorn hat — again, this diversity of headgear seems more historically accurate. The Minutemen and militia of 1775 were ordinary citizens; they were not yet a trained army — and I like that the Assabet Village Minutemen capture this important aspect of the Battle of Concord.

Men and women in 18th century dress marching together.
The Assabet Village (Maynard, Mass.) Minutemen.

It makes me want to go out and buy myself a suit of 18th century clothing. Not that I can afford it, but it’s fun to think about.

U.S. religion 5 years after COVID

At the end of March, Hartford Institute for Religion Research (HIRR) posted an update on their research into the impact of the COVID pandemic on organized religion in the U.S. They began the update by saying:

“As we mark the fifth anniversary of the COVID-19 pandemic, the Hartford Institute for Religion Research’s ‘Exploring the Pandemic Impact on Congregations’ (EPIC) project offers a unique window into how American religious communities navigated this unprecedented crisis. What began as an emergency response to immediate challenges evolved into a profound transformation of congregational life in America. Our longitudinal research, spanning from mid-2021 to present day, tells a story of resilience, adaptation, and, ultimately, renewal.”

After summarizing some of their earlier research, HIRR says that the financial news for congregations isn’t great, but it is good:

“Our latest financial report reveals surprising stability. The median income of congregations has reached a 25-year high, though not keeping pace with inflation. Nearly half of congregations now report extensive use of digital donation platforms.”

You can view a PDF of the financial report here. Mind you, it would have been nice if we’d kept up with inflation. But still, this is better financial news than I expected.

Then HIRR outlines other, more serious, challenges:

“Five years after COVID-19 … persistent challenges remain: fluctuating congregation size, aging demographics among both clergy and members, reluctance to embrace change in some traditions and questions about meaningful engagement with primarily virtual attendees.”

The last three items seem a pretty good summary of the problems I’m seeing — aging demographics, reluctance to embrace some changes, questions about how to remain engaged with virtual attendees. No, I don’t have any answers, but I find it very helpful to list the major challenges we’re facing.

The opposite of a bullying boss

Over the past week, I’ve been writing a series of posts about bullies in the workplace —although I prefer the terminology of Robert I. Sutton, professor of business at Stanford University, who calls them “assholes,” not “bullies.” Now I’d like to consider the opposite of assholes. And what, you ask, is the opposite of an asshole? — it’s a boss who’s nice but incompetent.

Back in 2012, Sutton wrote a blog post titled “Are incompetent and nice bosses even worse than the incompetent assholes?” This post is based on a chapter from his book Good Boss Bad Boss, in which he describes in some detail what a good boss looks like. Sutton says that “one of the most personally troubling lessons I’ve learned (or at least am on the verge of believing)” is this:

“I am starting to wonder… if nice but incompetent bosses are even worse (at least in some ways and at certain times) than competent assholes.”

Sutton then includes an excerpt from his book Good Boss Bad Boss which gives a vivid portrait of a nice-but-incompetent boss:

“People may love that crummy boss so much they constantly excuse, or don’t even notice, clear signs of incompetence. For example, there is one senior executive I know who is utterly lacking in the necessary skills or thirst for excellence his job requires. He communicates poorly (he rarely returns even important e-mails and devotes little attention to developing the network of partners his organization needs), lacks the courage to confront — let alone fire — destructive employees, and there are multiple signs his organization’s reputation is slipping. But he is such a lovely person, so caring and so empathetic, that his superiors can’t bring themselves to fire him.”

So does this apply to Unitarian Universalist clergy? You bet it does. If you’ve been around Unitarian Universalism long enough, you’ll be able to think of clergy who were kind, gentle souls whom everyone loved — and who drove their congregation into the ground because of their incompetence. I started working as a Director of Religious Education (DRE) in 1994, and I remember hearing from other DREs about ministers who were good and nice people, but who were horrible to work for because they lacked necessary skills, had no thirst for excellence, communicated poorly, lacked the courage to confront poor employees, didn’t develop the network of partners the congregation needed, etc. — just like the senior executive that Sutton writes about.

But remember that the ultimate boss of a Unitarian Universalist congregation is the board. And in my experience, boards of congregations can also be nice-but-incompetent. Back in the 1990s, I remember one board that was so nice that they refused to terminate a destructive employee, even though that one employee was causing massive turnover in every other staff position. I’ve also seen boards that were poor communicators, that neglected to develop a network of partners, etc.

Whether it’s a nice-but-incompetent board, or a nice-but-incompetent minister, it can be very unpleasant to work under them — ask any DRE who has worked under a nice-but-incompetent boss. Sure, they’re really nice people. But they will not protect you from another staff person who’s destructive. They will not communicate effectively with you. They do not have the skills they need to lead effectively. They will not develop networks that bring in resources that will help you do your job. And because they’re so nice, they will never get fired. Finally, to point out the obvious, whether you’re paid staff and to volunteer staff, it’s equally painful to work under a nice-but-incompetent boss (it might even be worse for volunteer staff, because you’re not even getting a salary).

Sutton concludes his blog post with some advice:

“There are two lessons here. The first is for bosses. If you are well-liked, civilized, and caring, your charms provide protective armor when things go wrong. Your superiors are likely to give you the benefit of the doubt as well as second and third chances — sometimes even if you are incompetent. I would add, however, that if you are a truly crummy boss — but care as much for others as they do for you — stepping aside is the noble thing to do.

“The second lesson is for those who oversee lovable losers. Doing the dirty work with such bosses is distasteful. But if rehabilitation has failed — or things are falling apart too fast to risk it — the time has come to hit the delete button.”

Close-up of a delete key on a computer keyboard.
“…if rehabilitation has failed…the time has come to hit the delete button….”

Part of a series of posts on clergy and bullying — Sigh. Not Again. — What ministerial bullying looks like — What ministers didn’t learn in theological school — When clergy get bullied — The opposite of a bullying boss

When clergy get bullied

Recently, I wrote about what it looks like when clergy act as bullies. But clergy can also be the targets of bullying. What does that look like?

In a recent article on a United Church of Canada website, Christopher White describes what it looks like when clergy get bullied:

“In all the conversations I had with clergy on bullying, the pattern was identical: one congregant takes the lead and levels small, unrelenting criticisms against the minister that grow over time. Clergy are confused, and the congregation often has no idea what is happening until it is too late. The regions or Office of Vocation get involved in what is perceived as a ‘conflict’ and bring to the task a set of policies and procedures that are inadequate for bullying. The problem goes unresolved, and bullying remains unchecked in congregations, impacting minister after minister.”

As it happens, I’ve been bullied by congregants a couple of times. The first time it happened, I lucked out — the bully (who was also bullying other staff and lay leaders) left the congregation soon thereafter. And by the time it happened to me again, I knew exactly what was going on, so it had less impact on me. It was still extremely unpleasant.

Perhaps the most important part of the article is the brief section on why bullying seems to be on the increase:

“Alison Miculan has been on the front lines of supporting bullied clergy as the organizing chair of Unifaith. She believes the problem is ‘pretty rampant right now.’ Miculan says the COVID-19 pandemic led to an increase in bullying due to the frustration, fear, and anxiety in congregations today. ‘We are an angry society, and that’s been reflected in the church.’ …”

Note that the article is about congregations in Canada. I’d say that the United States is even more angry than Canada right now, which I guess means our congregations can expect more bullying and bullies than usual.

Mind you, I still don’t care for the term “bully.” I still prefer the term “asshole,” as defined by business professor Robert Sutton in his book The No Asshole Rule. Using Sutton’s term helps me remember that assholes have a negative impact on organizational performance. That is, it’s not just about one bully making the life of one target absolutely miserable — it’s about how an asshole not only makes life miserable for their targets, but they can also drag down the entire organization.

Whatever term you use, it’s definitely worth reading the article: “More United Church clergy are feeling targeted by congregational bullies.”

Part of a series of posts on clergy and bullying — Sigh. Not Again. — What ministerial bullying looks like — What ministers didn’t learn in theological school — When clergy get bullied — The opposite of a bullying boss