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It’s not the policies. It’s not his unlikely ascent to the White House.
It’s not that he’s a brilliant communicator.
It’s not the color of his skin.
It’s for one reason and one reason alone:
We have similar handwriting.
From the LA Times:
We missed the Mormons this evening. The Mormons and my dad.
It’s Day Three of Joshua Aedan’s life, and he had his wellness check at the hospital. Turns out he gained a tenth of an ounce, which for those unfamiliar with the lay of the land, is good news. So we went out and celebrated by eating cheeseburgers and fries at Taxi’s in Dublin.
When we got home, there was a tract at the doorstep, kindly left by some Mormon brethren who want us to know that we can receive a complementary DVD explaining how our family doesn’t have to be separated in the afterlife. Come to think of it, I think that was a group of Mormons yesterday eating lunch across the street when our family of four walked by with the stroller. I don’t know this for certain, but they were all wearing big black name tags. So a good strategic move in their effort to make converts.
On the other hand, my dear old dad dropped by, going out of his way after work to bring a birthday gift to Serena (11/16) and a stuffed puppy dog for Joshua. Is it really necessary for me to say which visit brought us more joy?
I feel like these two knocks on the door — the mormons and Dad — perfectly illustrate the shortcomings of the myth of Christian Superiority. I have the sense that we are living in a time of dramatic tension as the last vestiges of Christendom in the West give way to a postmodern, post-Christian world. (Just to be clear, by Christian I am not referring to faith in Jesus, but instead to the religious-political structure that has shaped the western world since Christianity became the State religion of the Roman empire.) Christianity-as-system seeks converts to feed back to the base. Christianity-as-friendship seeks simply to be, and to live fully in response to that being. Christian superiority is a myth because it leads us to leave tracts instead of stuffed puppy dogs, or information instead of extending the olive branch of deepening friendship.
This conversation thread discovered at the Citizen-Times, in response to an article about Obama meeting privately with evangelical faith leaders. Notice the lumping together in the 2nd response of “religious leaders,” and to whom we bend our knee:
FCC23 wrote:Who really gives a flying $*%^ what Franklin Graham, or any “religious leader” thinks about anything???6/12/2008 7:46:38 AM
Who really gives a flying $*%^ what Franklin Graham, or any “religious leader” thinks about anything???<br /> FCC23
2steppen wrote:I sure do.And one day ,you will also bend your knee in recognize of the Lord.
6/12/2008 8:48:09 AMI sure do.And one day ,you will also bend your knee in recognize of the Lord. 2steppen
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An example of “entertainment:” (pointing to the game on the right)
Regardless of your eschatology, it seems that something has gone very, very wrong when we start marketing Armageddon as Christian entertainment. Just a thought.
I downloaded a browser and had something of an epiphany.
Flock is a browser whose sole purpose, it seems, is to keep the user updated with his or her various web2.0 social networks (facebook, flickr, twitter, etc.) I’ll admit, it’s daunting to see a constantly updating stream of human interaction on the left sidebar of my browser. I’m beginning to realize that, at 29 years old, I am on the trailing edge of technological innovation and am far less a native to social networking than kids still in high school. So it took this browser to wake me up to a big turn in the way people communicate: meet-ups can organize in literally hours or less through a network of computers and mobile devices, people can broadcast up-to-the-moment updates of their thoughts, feelings and happenings to friends and total strangers alike, and reactions to these individual and communal happenings can be executed and observed in real time.
Some examples I’ve seen of how this works in real life:
From GodGirl:
A week ago, when I signed on to my Facebook account and saw that Mark’s best friend had written “I’m sad that Mark died in Iraq today” as his “update” message, I hoped it was a joke. Mark and his best friends — two guys named Dave who were his college-mates and, more recently, his neighbors in Laguna Beach, Calif. — have a wicked sense of humor.
When the other Dave sent me an e-mail saying “it’s no joke,” my heart gained 50 pounds and sank in my chest, where it remains, a painful boulder.
How was it possible that one of the most alive people I’ve ever known was gone?
From a friend’s facebook status update:
just wrecked my car and i’m quite tired and sore.
From a friend of a friend who was recently working on a prayer labryinth:
Labyrinth tonight. Come help me move rocks.
Then there are other stories of friends and peers who have recently lit up my phone with text messages requesting prayer, sending blessings, or sharing news.
The question I’ve been pondering is, with the rise of this kind of instant relational networking, how long can church communities keep leaning on routine weekly gatherings that people have attended for centuries out of a sense of duty or habit? While there is certainly still a place for regularly scheduled programming, it’s simply not how emerging culture seems to be working: we watch TV on demand via TiVo or streaming internet feeds, we listen to customized music playlists instead of pre-programmed CD’s, we arrange gatherings via social networking websites and text messaging instead of by the regularity of the weekly calendar. Where’s the balance going to strike (and when)? And in what way does a community lose out by ignoring this trend (or not)?
Blogged with the Flock Browser
Tags: web2.0, networking, gatherings
For approximately four months, I have wanted to possess and thus wear a funky hat. For some unexplainable reason, many new friends from ReImagine seem to be fond of the funky hat wearing tradition, which drew my initial curiosity – you know, conform in the interest of flying the flag of funkitude.
Well yesterday I finally had my chance. Needing to return some gift merchandise that did not fit, I found myself with a little liquidity burning a hole in my proverbial pocket, and I immediately went shopping in the funky section of the male accessories department. Now in the interest of full disclosure, I should mention that my wife was not initially fond of the idea. And in the interest of continued full disclosure, I should also say at this point that she remains steadfast in her disdain for the hat of funk.
The truth is, the hat is an emblem: a symbol of my fierce grip on a shred of individuality in the stormy sea of matrimonial compromise. I don’t wear it to spite my beloved… although it is admittedly fun to playfully push her buttons in this harmless way. One must know at which point to yield and at which point to hold one’s own. And when it comes to funky head wear, I hold my own. I’m so grateful that my wife continues to love my hat-wearing head, and I may remove it if at some point in the future it becomes apparent that the hat is driving a wedge in our budding relationship. Uh-oh, here she comes. Better take it off.
