On doubt, and the trouble with ‘show me first’.
July 7, 2026
So… one Sunday I told my entire congregation that my two favorite childhood snacks were grasshoppers and silkworms.
I gave them the details. How we’d skewer dozens of grasshoppers onto a long thin stick and grill them over a fire — a kind of locust kebab. How the silkworms, the steamed pupae of the silk moth, were a delicacy. I delivered all of this from the pulpit, on a Sunday morning, with great warmth and total conviction.
I watched the faces. A few went pale. Somebody stopped chewing their gum. One woman looked like she was quietly rethinking the brunch she’d just eaten.
The next week I had to open with an apology because it turns out some of my people are very visual, and the image of grilled grasshopper and steamed pupae had been hovering over their dinner plates for days. I’d ruined a few meals. So I made everyone close their eyes and picture a triple decker ice cream cone instead, to clear the screen.
But before all that, I asked them the real question. The one I want to ask you.
Did you believe me?
Because I told that story with a completely straight face. And the room split in two.
Half of them believed every word. They sat there picturing little Richard in the Korean countryside, grilling locusts, nodding along, mildly horrified, fully convinced. Well. That’s what they eat over there.
The other half didn’t buy it for a second. Arms crossed. He’s pulling our leg again. No chance.
So which half was right?
I’ll let you sit with that.
Here is what I noticed, watching them.
The doubters were rather pleased with themselves. They felt sharp. You can’t fool me. And we do tend to wear our doubt like a badge, the person who demands proof is the clever one. The person who simply believes is the soft touch who’ll fall for anything.
I have plenty of doubt myself, by the way. More than people expect from a minister. I’ve stood at gravesides and doubted. I’ve prayed into a silence and wondered if anyone was on the other end. I’ve made my peace with it. A faith with no room for a question isn’t strong, it’s just brittle, shattering the first time life leans on it. I don’t even like the word “doubt” anymore. I prefer curiosity. A little curiosity keeps a faith honest.
But here’s the trouble with show me first.
Most of what actually matters can’t be shown to you in advance. Nobody handed you proof the marriage would last before you said “I do.” Nobody showed you evidence the child would be worth the sleepless years before you had the child. You don’t get to see the net before you jump.
At some point, show me first stops being wisdom and becomes a very comfortable way of never moving. You stand at the edge with your arms folded, waiting for a certainty that was never coming. The whole of your one life waits there with you, ungrilled, on the stick.
The believers, it turns out, weren’t the fools. They were just willing to go first.
Did I really eat grasshoppers and silkworms as a boy ?
I’m not going to tell you.
Some of you believe me. Some of you don’t. And I’ve decided the not knowing is good for you. A small dose of curiosity to carry into your week.
But if you ever come by, and you really want to know, I’ll tell you the whole truth.
I might even let you taste one.
Buy me a coffee first.
Richard
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Prior Newsletters from Slow Wisdom :
Thankful For The Hospital Food … July 1st
My Goal Was To Finish and Not Die … June 24th
The Wedding Afro … June 17th