Enjoy Chris's follow up to his recent "Don't" piece on preaching about technology. (Be sure to read that first for needed context.) Today, he offers a nuanced, realistic way forward, engaging both our devices and our hearts. -Paul
I try hard not to be a curmudgeon. Recently I complained about well-meaning preachers who target iPhones as the source of social ills. It wasn't that daily-life technology isn't a critical point of engagement for pastors. It was just that in many cases, the technology is isolated and objectified as a tool or force, when it may be better understood as inescapably environmental and human.
So in the spirit of forward progress winning over crankiness, I'd like to offer a proposal. Here are my suggestions for how to preach about technology with both cultural clarity and discipleship impact.
There's a little bit of self-identification to do first. This has to do with how we relate to certain technology modes ourselves. Back in 2001, Marc Prensky coined the labels "digital native" and "digital immigrant" (now commonplace enough for CT to use them in their recent "33 under 33" cover story), and we have an inkling of what they mean. But who sorts where? It's not an age thing. We start with these three words:
Toy, tool, environment
New communications technologies are fun. They are! I'm of the appropriate middling age that I recall learning to text message for the first time. I grabbed the phone and thought: Cool! So I can just type? What should I say? Who should I say it to? Doesn't matter! Just trying it out!
When we encounter a new communications mode, we start by playing with it—it starts as a toy. This is why exploring our friends' First Tweets is hilarious.
Eventually we realize that real people are in the flow of our communications and will give us real answers. As a campus minister, I learned I could text a student to meet me at 3, and by golly, it happened (provided they didn't sleep through it)! The toy becomes useful and transforms to a tool.
There's a third stage, however, and this is where digital natives live. Tools eventually become so common, so ubiquitous, that the technological artifice no longer feels artificial. What becomes "I'm texting now" starts to fade into "making breakfast plans," and then "we're fighting." The technology becomes part of the environment of human communication—almost as invisible as breathing or talking.
This toy ➔ tool ➔ environment progress helps us sort out the digital native/immigrant distinction. The reality is, some of us, especially those who may be older, will always relate to some tech as tools. They think about the technology and talk about it. They are immigrants (using technology "with an accent!" says Prensky). For natives, the tech is environmental and invisible.
Digital Immigrants need to reduce their "tool" orientation. Digital Natives need to notice the invisible water they're in.
My previous plea has been to think about technologies as environmental, yet the reality is that the task of theological reflection begins differently for natives vs immigrants. Digital Immigrants need to reduce their "tool" orientation. Digital Natives need to notice the invisible water they're in.
With that in mind, can we look at a process for faithful and thoughtful reflection?
Eight questions for reflection
Can we try this like a case study? We'll assume a common goal in preaching: to proclaim God's Word over God's world, in order to invite and form disciples of Jesus. But mostly we're jumping into the mind of our fictional pastor who is already feeling frustrated.
Like usual, next Sunday looms. I'm thinking on what I will preach. Recently, I've noticed how ridiculous my Facebook feed is becoming. Such little, dumb stuff that occupies our time! I want to engage this facet of our culture. Yet I'm determined to employ careful reflection here: to make visible the invisible parts, and to neither isolate or objectify technology as a tool or force. I need some empathetic iPhone watching.
Let's step through this:
1. What is the effect I think I'm noticing?
Our culture is dumbing down. We're too trivial and not reflective enough. This harms both deep relationships and deep engagement of the gospel.
2. What are the actions/images that trigger what I notice?
My Facebook feed has all sorts of trivial notices: complaints about how long the line is at Target, good socks to buy, or what people had eggs for lunch. I don't care that your shoelace broke, and I definitely don't need a photo of it.
3. Why are they doing that?
They're bored? Shallow? Are wasting their time, and by sharing it, wasting mine?
4. Take the phone out of the picture: where else might we notice this?
Wait. When my wife comes home, she talks about how long the line was at Target, what some good socks were to buy, and the fact that the kids had eggs for lunch. If I think about it, I talk about the stoplight timing on 4th street, why the Cubs are losing again, and who knows what.
5. What do the "phone in / phone out" pictures have in common?
For a lot of friend and family relationships—even co-workers—we say small things all the time. In fact, probably most of what we say to each other is "trivial." There are deep conversations too—about love and God and life—but these are sandwiched between days of small talk.
6. What's does the "phone in" picture have uniquely?
The Facebook feed captures verbal conversation and makes it visible. It moves something familiar from my ears to my eyes. This technology is new to human experience. Since the mode of perception is different than in the past, I sit up and notice.
7. What is sinful and broken here?
Normal communication can always devolve and reveal sin. In the absence of a greater story—in the absence of redemption—humans focus on themselves. Self-centeredness reigns and can be expressed in trivial demands, frustration, distraction, entertainment, pleasure, or obsessions.
8. What is grace here?
Human relationships are made up of lots of types of communication, and some of the "small stuff" is actually the daily, real stuff of intimacy. Intimacy is a deep gift of God.
Why "reflection" is a great word
Sure, this set of eight questions is cumbersome, and there's no alliterative memory aid (come on, that doesn't work anyway). Yet it maps a process—noticing an effect or phenomenon, becoming aware of the technological environment, empathetically looking for the humanness, and then identifying the potential sin and redemption: making room for the declaration of Jesus Christ over both.
Reflection provides us a key metaphor that fits the process, namely: good reflection on our iPhones reflects ourselves.
And did you see what we did there? In our process of reflection the communications technology is central to the experience, but not necessarily central to the core issues. It is not neutral, but neither is it isolated or objectified.
The word "reflection" passes us by, but I like it very much here. It provides us a key metaphor that fits the process, namely: good reflection on our iPhones reflects ourselves.
Staring into our glass screens, we see both things: the device, and ourselves looking back.
Chris Ridgeway is on the leadership team of Great Commission Ministries directing communications. He writes on communications technology, theology, and Christian leadership and blogs at www.theodigital.com.
