Old Hardware, Once Treasured, Begs

Hard times.

Discovered the above here. Was reminded of “The Lifecycle of Software Objects,” a short story in Ted Chiang’s collection Exhalation, in which digitally created entities, or “digients,” interact with human trainers who help them grow and develop. The trouble comes when the software company that developed these digital products goes bankrupt, and the digital world hosting these interactions becomes dated and obsolete. Chiang’s short story is provocative, inviting reflection on how we interact with technology and what it means to be human.

The Macintosh Classic II is a piece of hardware, running software that gives it the appearance of a human face. We do not think of “things” as having personality, but we relate to them as though they do. When they fail us, we get angry at them, as though they possess a will instead of a malfunction. Who among us has not called a computer stupid? We interact with our things, our technology, often more than we do people! The computer on which I’m writing this post is but one link in the chain of technological mediation standing between us. We become attached to our machines, too. We develop a bond, perhaps affections.

Until we upgrade. Then we move on.

If you watch the video above, you’ll see the Macintosh placed on a city street, passed by pedestrians, with few turning their heads. This computer was placed outside an Apple Store, begging for change. The irony. The company that created the machine could bring it in for recycling. But then that’d be the end of that piece of hardware. Before pulling the plug, you’d have to look into those eyes.

It’s a wonderful piece of art, doing what art does, making us evaluate how we see and how we think, raising questions, inviting reflection, pondering what is true.

Free Expression and the Reformation of Morals

Rowan Atkinson, who famously played Mr. Bean, argues here for free expression and free speech. Comedians feel keenly the importance of saying what they believe must be said, including the thing that certain people believe must not be said. They argue fiercely for the freedom to say it, firstly for the sake of their art, but secondly for those without the microphone or the degree of public notariety that has secured them the ability to speak up and speak out. Comedians test public norms and make us revisit the reasons the norms are there at all. Some norms, after all, are built upon falsehoods, and are thus absurd and ridiculous. They only thing maintaining those norms is a mass delusion, a captivity of the mind. Humor sobers us; a good belly laugh drops the scales from our eyes.

It feels as though we are living at a heightened moment of censoriousness in our history, not only because posting the wrong thing on social media can lead to swarming behavior and the heaping on of oppobrium from strangers, but because our awareness of outrage elswhere is felt more acutely right where we live. In other words, we not only know the norms and customs governing the place where we live, but the norms and customs being enforced and upheld elsewhere, those touted in a globalized digital village that is a “no place,” or perhaps an anti-place.

As a result, we self-censor not only on the basis of the known opinions of our peers, but on the basis of what others believe “out there.” And with the ubiquity of cameras, recording devices, and internet feeds, we know we are only a moment away from shaming and infamy, regardless of our degree of celebrity. One only need think of the label “Karen.”

I am of the opinion we are not only presently navigating how best to protect free speech and free expression. I believe we are also navigating a crisis of authority, the dissolution of community, a weakened sense of identity and belonging, and the lack of a shared, consensus view of what constitutes custom or manners. I’m am glad there are those who are defending free speech, arguing for its importance. Free speech is foundational for arriving upon sound answers regarding who we should listen to, to whom we belong, how we understand ourselves, and what we can agree upon as the good, true, right, and beautiful. Discourse can result in discomfort. But discomfort can precede discovery. Civility must be modeled; its shape, too, will be debated.

William Wilberforce, who is well known for his work as an abolitionist, also founded The Society for the Suppression of Vice. In his book A Practical View of the Prevailing Religious System of Professed Christians, in the Middle and Higher Classes of this Country, Contrasted with Real Christianity, Wilberforce took it upon himself to criticize his fellow citizens and advocate not only the Christian faith, but the reformation of manners. He argued not only for religious reform and assent to certain Christian beliefs, but a different way of speaking, acting, and relating with others in society. His positions, no doubt, were debated fiercely!

As discomfiting as it may be, we are in a transitional moment, and old questions are being revisited in light of new problems and new technologies. Before we can reach a shared understanding of free speech, we must debate. Debates are often messy, until consensus emerges. And even when consensus is established, given enough time, the reasons the consensus was arrived upon will be forgotten, a challenging point of view will emerge, and the debate will begin again. This is the cycle of human societies. We experience a crisis. We implement solutions. We enjoy a brief moment of stability. Then, we find, or create, a new crisis. Many new crises are old crises, experienced afresh by a new generation, demanding old wisdom be recovered and applied anew.

Spokespersons for Christ have a role to play in this conversation, not only as defenders of free speech, free expression, and, I would add, religious liberty, but also in advocating a way of life, a way of relating to others within the society. We must reject what is evil, and hold fast to what is good. We must protect the speech rights of others, even if we disagree. But if we disagree, we must offer counter-arguments with respect to what we believe is right toward the end of building a consensus view. These arguments will be offered in words, but also through lives testifying to another Lord and another way of life, and communities—churches—displaying redemption in effect, a foretaste of the world to come. And we must model the kind of civility, respect, long-suffering and patience that we would hope to find among those with whom we will disagree. We must not return evil for evil, but instead overcome evil with good, trusting that truth, ultimately, will prevail.

Reminders: They Keep Us on Track

Photo by dianne clifford on Unsplash

In today’s issue of my newsletter (sign up here!) I wrote:

We need reminders—people, books, stories, gatherings, songs, images, paintings, words scrawled on scraps of paper—reminders of what matters. Without reminders, we drift.

In Deuteronomy 6:12, Moses reminds the people of Israel to revist the divine commands and rehearse the stories of God’s deliverance, saying, “Then take care lest you forget the Lord, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery.” Remembering is a way of tending to the relationship between God and the people of God.

Psalm 77:11 says, “I will remember the deeds of the Lord; yes, I will remember your miracles of long ago.”

When Jesus gave his followers instructions concerning the observance of the Lord’s Supper, Luke 22:19 records his giving thanks, breaking bread, and saying, “This is my body, which is given for you. Do this in remembrance of me.”

In John 14:26, Jesus promises his disciples that the Holy Spirit will not only teach them, but aid their memory: “But the Helper, the Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in my name, he will teach you all things and bring to your remembrance all that I have said to you.”

Paul, in 1 Corinthians 11:2, writes, “Now I commend you because you remember me in everything and maintain the traditions even as I delivered them to you.” Paul stressed the importance of keeping what had been passed on through the act of remembering.

Last week I attended a conference centered on Christian spiritual formation, revisiting ideas I have been thinking about since my days as a seminarian. It struck me that this conference prompted my memory. I was reminded of events from the past, books I had read, talks I had heard, and truths that had moved into the recesses of my mind. My presence at this gathering brought to my recollection matters of importance. I was invited to consider what matters afresh.

What reminds you of what matters? Artwork? Books on display? A daily reading habit? A weekly gathering for study or worship? Stories you retell, rehearse, and relive? A meeting with friends or family? A routine pilgrimage to a place of importance?

We foster and cultivate memory. Human beings tend to forget, to drift. Tending historical tethers maintain our connections to what matters most.

Reps: They Make a Difference

Are there implications for Christian spiritual formation here?

I think yes.

The Christian tradition contains spiritual disciplines, or soul-training exercises that foster growth in Christ-like character and ongoing maturity in faith. These disciplines are wise practices that, if acted upon, open the possibility for change and transformation. They do not save. They do not put God in our debt. They do not elevate our standing with God. Dallas Willard said, helpfully, that God’s grace is not opposed to effort, but to earning. Earning is an attitude; effort is an action. I like to say that the spiritual disciplines are a response. God lovingly moved toward us in acts of creation, covenant and redemption. Once graciously perceived, we are drawn toward God. Prayer, study, worship, service, and the other disciplines are invitations to the act of abiding, or dwelling, with God and paying attention to God’s presence and activity in our lives.

I’m a fan of Arnold Schwarzenegger, and not only because my middle name is Arnold. I like action movies. I’ve also read Arnold’s autobiography and have sought to learn more about his life and career. He has been a surprising source of wisdom and insight, particularly in respect to the principles he has identified as underpinning his success. Body building is a physical activity that has clear, identifiable connections between actions and results. The sport became a school for Arnold, teaching him about reality.

One of those lessons: the importance of reps. A vision or goal, informed by an understanding of causal dynamics, followed by a plan, accompanied by actions and the right means, leads to results. You can have a dream. You can have a sober assessment of where you stand in the present. To realize a dream, you need steps, or means. You have to perform actions, or take the steps. And if the vision is clear and the means are properly aligned, you’ll progress toward the vision.

Arnold’s body was not built in a day. It took time. Years. It took commitment. There were setbacks. Most great journeys have them. Our path is not always clear, straight, or easy. But it is possible to move from point A to point B.

In the Christian spiritual journey toward maturity the first step is developing a vision, a clear picture of God and of life with God. I have found it helpful to read Matthew, Mark, Luke, or John, and develop a clear picture of Jesus. Hebrews 1:3 says, “The Son is the radiance of God’s glory and the exact representation of his being, sustaining all things by his powerful word.” A study of the Trinity, which would broaden contemplation and include the Father and the Holy Spirit, would expand and sharpen our vision of God. But the Son is a wonderful place to begin.

As I’ve grasped the attributes of Jesus, including what he was like and the kinds of things he would do and say, I’ve looked more closely at how he lived, who he was around, and what his words and the things he did reveal to us about his thinking, attitude, and disposition of heart. After making discoveries, I’ve prayed, “God, I’d like that to be true of me.” I have asked God to teach me patterns of thought, feeling, and embodied action displayed in Jesus. In the same way a body builder learns about physical reality through training, so too does a Christian pilgrim learn about spiritual reality through the journey of spiritual formation and discipleship.

This has led me into practice of prayer, study, fellowship, worship, service, simplicity, and more. Christians believe we are not alone in this venture. The indwelling Spirit leads us into all truth. Our bodies are incorporated into Christ’s body; Christ lives in us (Galatians 2:20). We have received God’s rich blessing and have been given access to the Father in the heavenly places through Jesus (Ephesians 1:3-10). If you desire maturity in faith, ask God. Growth may not unfold as you envision or anticipate. But you will have entered the school of the kingdom, placing yourself in the hands of the Great Teacher. The work God begins in you will be brought to completion (Philippians 1:6). Give it time. Take it step by step.

Every rep taken is an act of faith. It is an offering. Enlivened and infused by God’s grace, our actions draw us nearer to God and the prospect of a more godly life.

A Prayer for Those in the Workplace

Photo by Kenny Eliason on Unsplash

Lord Jesus, 

You have promised to be with us always, even unto the end of the age. 
Today, I first ask you be with me unto the end of my desk. 
I ask you first to join me here, to extend to me the knowledge of your presence. 
May you, Holy Spirit, be manifestly present in and around my workspace. 

I have many tasks to do. 
There are many people with whom I am in relationship and who depend on my contributions. 
I want to do my tasks well. 
I want to receive every person hospitably. 
I want to be joyful and pleasant, radiating your glory and grace. 
When others encounter me, I want them to see not only me, but you. 

Let my ears be opened to hear not only those who speak with me, but to hear you. 
Let my mouth speak words that not only honor the person with whom I am speaking, but you. 
Let my eyes see as you see. 
Let my hands be strengthened for service.  
Let my heart be attuned to your impressions, open to your communication. 
Heal my body, and help me carry out my work as a living sacrifice, presented unto you. 

Lord, I do not only want you to be with me only unto the end of my desk. 
The work appointed for me by you will lead me elsewhere in this building. 
You will send me beyond this desk, this computer, this chair, and this office. 
May I go resting securely in the knowledge that your Holy Spirit goes with me to empower me, to guide me, to convict me when I get it wrong, to lead me into all truth, and ultimately to sanctify me, bringing me into conformity with you. 

I am glad you have drawn near.  
I am glad you are with me. 
I am glad you are my friend. 
I trust you to help me. 

May your name be magnified and glorified in everything I do this day. 

Amen. 

What We’re Tracking This Summer: Social Interaction

Photo by 🇸🇮 Janko Ferlič on Unsplash

Last summer I shared a reading list we prepared for our children and how we planned to encourage, track, and reward time spent reading.

We still want our kids to read. They enjoy reading. We’re glad! And we’re already off and running in the reading department.

But this summer we’re facing a different challenge: saccharine substitutes for social interaction that are made available through technology. We limit screen time and only subscribe to a couple of different streaming services. Television is not our greatest temptation and is far from our default activity. Instead, our biggest time vortex is text messaging, YouTube, and a couple of other social media services. In our household we’ve limited access to social media, but we encourage our children to interact with their friends and stay in touch through a messaging app. We see the connections and conversations as positive. But we’re aware of the pitfalls.

What’s our foremost concern? At Forbes, psychologist Mark Travers writes, “Social media can create a false sense of connection and belonging. Online interactions lack the nonverbal cues, physical presence, and emotional intimacy that are crucial to building and maintaining meaningful relationships.” Online interactions are illusory. They aren’t a zero calorie substitute, but they are a lite version of social interaction. You feel like you are in community, but those connections lack the depth, satisfaction, and opportunities for growth in social aptitude that in-person interactions yield. We want our children to connect with other human beings beyond the limited capacity that the online spaces allow.

Many of our summertime in-person interactions are built into the calendar. We’re participating in camps, church life, teams sports, sending our kids to the pool, encouraging play with neighbors, trips, and family time around the dinner table.

But to make sure we’re balanced, we’re adding evaluation and intention to our weekly planning conversations.

What will we track, and how? Each week, Molly and I plan to cover a recurring to-do item during our weekly family meeting: “Evaluate Kids’ Total Social Interactions for the Week, Create Opportunities.” After taking a quick tally, we’ll adjust our plans accordingly.

Routinely taking stock will help us see how we’re doing. Locking down screens is a step in the right direction. But we have to do more than cap screen time. We’ve generated a list of activities our children can choose from (with their help) during downtime. However, we’ll also proactively plan time with friends, people they’d like to deepen their relationships with. We’ll invite their input along the way.

A little bit of boredom is okay. Boredom is often the first step on the way to expressions of creativity. We want our kids to rest, unplug, relax, and find renewal during the summer months, too.

We also want them to learn the art of conversation, to make connections, practice friendship and develop social skills. The best way to do that is presence with people. As parents, we create those opportunities for connection. That’s our responsibility. Then, we cross our fingers. The rest is up to them.

Multiple Buckets

I’m one person. But I take on several roles. I wear a lot of hats. I represent different things to different people.

I am an American, Texan, Tylerite, and Wacoan. Other localities have shaped me, but this country, state, and these two cities most prominently factor in my formation.

I am a pastor, teacher, and writer. I have done other work. But those three ways of being are the most fully enmeshed with my way of operating.

I am a husband, father, and friend. I have other relational ties that are important to me. But these three roles are actively assumed each and every day.

I am a Christian. This commitment is my foremost way of understanding myself and is the one I want to be principally determinative for the rest.

When I first meet someone, most of what makes me who I am is obscured. It is only within a few relationships that the manifold dimensions of my character are displayed and known. In most encounters, only a fragment is revealed: I’m known as a soccer coach, a Sunday school teacher, a Baptist, a preacher, an administrator.

In these fleeting, surface level encounters, I only have time and occasion to represent a part of myself, not the whole.

Relationships can deepen and broaden. And they do, given enough time, space, energy, and experience. But in an atomized society the majority of our encounters are constrained, our modes are thereby limited, and the impact of each encounter is narrowed down to one or two of our identity markers. We’re encountered as an undergraduate student, Gen Zer, lawyer, clerk, an Oregon State Beavers fan, salesperson, or a company board member, a bureaucrat, etc.

We do not experience these encounters with another, at least at first and in a moment, with all of the breadth, depth, and texture that is resident within each human being.

We learn standard shortcuts that we apply to our encounters with those in certain roles. If a person is wearing a hardhat and a reflective vest, I may gather I am dealing with a construction worker, or a fan of the Village People. These shortcuts can become biases, or stereotypes, and some may be faulty. Be vigilant. If your experiences with the police has been positive, you will likely turn to them for help when victimized. If the police prove helpful, your confidence in the police is strengthened. If they do not, the converse results.

As I’ve meditated on these dynamics, I’ve considered what I’m representing, and to whom, in my daily interactions. I’ve thought of my roles as a stewardship.

Stewarding our roles means we make deposits into multiple buckets, not solely those that are our own.

When I help to create a positive experience in my role as a teacher, for example, that is not only to my credit, but a credit to the work of teachers and of teaching.

When I speak to others who know of my service as Associate Director of Spiritual Formation at Truett Seminary, I remember that I am not only representing myself, but the institution as well.

When I share with someone that I am from East Texas, not only is that person making an association with my drawl, but also with those who call the piney woods their home.

In respect to faith I remember that as I bear the name of Christ, it is not only my reputation that is in view during my daily encounters, but his. I can be a credit or a debit to his account. I seek to be the former, not the latter. We are witnesses. Better to be a faithful one.