Learning to Make Space in a Connected World

This fascinating video, based on the work of scholar Sherry Turkle, explores the questions surrounding what it means to have relationships in a social-network world.

The words and images pour out at a fast pace, but in the end they point toward the conclusion that we experience more connections than real conversation with one another, Even more, our social-network identity becomes our true identity. Therefore, we are always “on,” always seeking to be connected, but with a paradoxical result. We are not only more lonely, we are anxious about even being alone. And in the video’s last 30 seconds, we hear what is perhaps the most significant observation:

If we are not able to be alone, we’re only going to know how to be lonely.

Seeing Blue Like Jazz, and Thinking of Our Youth

In my years of teaching at Seattle Pacific University many fine speakers have visited our campus. But I can recall only two who prompted a large and fervent student turnout. One was Phil Yancey. The other was Donald Miller, author of “Blue Like Jazz.”

Though I have not yet read the book (I know, shame on me), I did watch the movie version the other night. I have to admit I was underwhelmed — by the movie, not the story, which director Steve Taylor says is loosely based on the book. Good intentions and honest effort are abundant in the film, but if you want to see what a movie looks (and sounds) like when you have a budget of “just” $1.2 million, then “Blue Like Jazz” could be Exhibit A.

Though I was ready to walk away after the first 10 minutes, I decided to stick it out. I’m glad I did.

Bryan Stevenson and the Question of Identity

I first learned of Bryan Stevenson through an article by Walt Harrington, published nearly 20 years ago in the Washington Post. Actually, it was more a meditation than an article, exploring what Harrington called “The Mystery of Goodness.” Without putting Stevenson on a pedestal, Harrington examined the life of an extraordinary person who worked as an attorney representing death-row inmates in Alabama.

Stevenson continues that work, and more, to this day. He argues cases before the U.S. Supreme Court, works on the faculty at New York University and leads an organization called the Equal Justice Initiative. But it is my sense that these usual markers of “success” mean much less to Stevenson than they do to the rest of us — in no small part because of his Christian faith.

Waiting, and Listening, for a Lifetime

I don’t know if Greg Buell remembers me, but he is a former student I cannot forget. When you watch the video, you will know why.

A Gun, an Edmonds Sidewalk, and God

On a pleasant evening my wife Chris will take the long walk home from the bus — from the Aurora Village Transit Center to our Edmonds home, combining some exercise with a chance to unwind from a busy day at work.

During one recent walk, at twilight Chris spotted an object on the sidewalk in front of a hair salon near the Bartell’s at Edmonds Way. She could not quite believe what she saw until she drew closer.

It was a gun.

Lent: Turning Away, and Turning Toward

Christianity Today recently posted a list compiled by Twitter of the 100 items that people are most likely to give up during lent this year. What topped the list?

Twitter.

Chocolate, swearing, alcohol, soda, Facebook, fast food, sex, sweats and meat rounded out the top 10. And No. 11? Lent itself.

I’ll leave it to you to sort out the significance of that list and what it might say about all of us. But in looking over the list it struck me that too often I have thought only about what I give up and not enough about who I turn toward during Lent, which started on Ash Wednesday and is a 40-day time of spiritual preparation for Easter. On this point, we Protestants may stand to learn a great deal from our brothers and sisters in the Catholic and Orthodox traditions.

For example, Frederica Matthewes-Green once wrote:

Orthodox Lent begins with the Rite of Forgiveness, in which all church members form a circle and, one at a time, stand face-to-face with each other and ask forgiveness. This experience is profoundly healing and also preventive; I’m more likely to restrain a harsh word in July if I recall that I will have to ask this person’s forgiveness again in March.

Ultimately, our sacrifices during Lent ought to turn our attention toward God, like a pang of hunger during a fast can remind us of our dependence upon God for all that is good. If we are more attentive toward God, perhaps as an extension of God’s love we can be more attentive toward one another.

The Scandal of Advent

I stumbled upon the website The Advent Conspiracy, which was launched by a group of pastors back in 2006. It is an attempt to recapture Christ’s arrival on Earth as a radical event, overturning of our expectations not just about God, but about life as well.

It’s not complicated, they say — in fact, it is simple. Worship God. Surrender all in order to be free. Love one another. Pay attention to others — placing their needs above our own. Allowing Christ to be present in the moment, however brief. Allowing God to reshape us. Extending grace to our enemies.

Sounds simple, all right — but it is hardly easy. But our starting point isn’t ourselves, but a baby in a manger. That’s what makes Advent, and the Gospel, so scandalous — a simplicity so powerful that it can turn the world upside down.

Seasons of Anticipation

It is finals week at Seattle Pacific University, and for two hours this morning I watched as 60-plus students scribbled furiously in their blue books. The looks on their faces reflected intense concentration, mixed at times with hints of desperation. But as each student concluded his or her exam, expressions turned toward a blend of relief and exhaustion — and even a little satisfaction. Well,  unless another exam awaited.

In no small way, the students have lived this quarter (and every other quarter) in anticipation of these three days. That anticipation is far below the surface during the care-free early weeks of school, but it builds as concepts, questions, papers and projects pile atop one another. By the time finals arrive, anticipation often turns into a mix of anxiety and stress, with more than a few students saying to themselves: “I’m not sure how I am going to get through this, but somehow I will.”

So here we are, at the beginning of Advent, a different season of anticipation, a time of “expectant waiting” as we look toward our celebration of Jesus’ birth. But if I am honest with myself, all too often that sense expectant waiting is overwhelmed by a frantic scramble to take care of all the “things” that one must do pull off a “successful” Christmas. You know the routine: shopping, cleaning, decorating, entertaining — etc., etc., etc.

And at some point over the next three weeks I am all too likely to feel just like my students: “I’m not sure how I am going to get through this, but somehow I will.” With that, I will have managed to turn a time of joy into a test — except that it is self-imposed. I can’t even blame a professor.

So, my prayer for the next three weeks is that God would help me let go of all the “things” of Christmas and instead help me to wait with great expectation, to anticipate with joy the day upon which Jesus entered the world and filled our hearts with redemption and hope — anticipating anew the day in which we see Christ once more.

Gratitude and Grace in a Consumed World?

You will find some strong words from Tony Campolo, John Perkins and others in this video, and they drive me to this question: What place is there for grace and gratitude in a society driven by consumerism?

“Precision as a Spiritual Discipline”

As a journalist-turned-professor, I have followed a path built around words and their use. How can students learn to write with precision and clarity? How can they decipher truth from falsehood in what they read and see? How can they preserve their own humanity — and that of others — in their communication practices?

In other words: How can they be real, authentic and sincere in life amid a media-generated blizzard of clever words?  The same question, of course, applies to each of us every time we log on to Facebook, place a phone call, send a text, or a speak in person with someone.