Showing posts with label wisdom. Show all posts
Showing posts with label wisdom. Show all posts

Saturday, May 17, 2008

Birthday Wisdom

I usually don't air a woman's age but since my friend, Rosemarie, has published hers, I feel free to make an exception. Today, her 51st birthday, she shares thoughts prompted by a woman. two decades her junior, who asked how her priorities and values have changed since she was her age. Her response holds instruction for us all, regardless of our years. Here's a snippet:
I would read, meditate on and memorize the Word more. I would call my sin what the Bible calls it. Jesus provides a remedy for sin, but He is silent about 'mistakes'. I would advise young people to learn the difference between who you are and the choices you make. I value learning that people are more than their sin, they are souls in peril. I'd drill it in my head as soon as possible that flattery is abuse and that genuine heartfelt compassion can accompany the absolute rejection of someone's world view or lifestyle.
Read the whole thing.

Happy Birthday, Ro, and thanks for passing on a portion of the wisdom you've acquired over the years the Lord has given you!

Friday, August 24, 2007

Athens in Cyberland

[More pressing responsibilities require that I give less attention to blogging so I'm recycling an article originally posted on 5/27/05. Readers suffering from the condition therein described may not appreciate it due to its age.]

Before recounting Paul's address to the Areopagus, Luke offers the following parenthetical description of the Athenian climate: "Now all the Athenians and the foreigners who lived there would spend their time in nothing except telling or hearing something new" (Acts 17:21). This once great city was a draw for people who trafficked in ideas -especially those hot off the mental press. New philosophies were to Athens what fashion is to Manhattan's Seventh Avenue. This reputation for being a city populated by people with a craving for novelty was long-standing. Richard Longenecker, in his commentary on Acts, cites Cleon, a fifth-century BC politician and general, as telling his fellow Athenians: "You are the best people at being deceived by something new that is said."

There is nothing new under the sun, including our ravenous desire for what is novel. Aren't we frequently driven by the lust (and I don't think that's too strong a word) for something new? I think about the time I've wasted glued to some cable news channel fearful that I might miss a breaking story or further developments of a major story already out. In an attempt to keep the viewing audience tuned in, it's not uncommon for the hosts of one news program to talk with the host of the following program. Hannity & Colmes, for instance, after saying about everything that could possibly be said about the major story of the day will ask Greta Van Susteren what's coming up on her show. "Well, Sean, we'll be covering the latest breaking news on the story you've been talking about," she says. Translation: "I'll be taking a few more swings at the horse you and Alan just beat to death." Still, I watch just in case there really is something new.

The hunger for newness is also quite apparent in the church. How many times have you heard someone, after hearing a sermon, say with disappointment, "He didn't say anything I didn't already know" or "I didn't learn anything new"? Those of us charged with the task of preaching and teaching are equally afflicted by the quest for the uncommon. We may, at times, be embarrassed to declare familiar truths to God's people, forgetting that informing is only one goal of biblical proclamation. Reminding believers of what they already know is of equal value. Understanding this is what led Peter to write:

Therefore I intend always to remind you of these qualities, though you know them and are established in the truth that you have. I think it right, as long as I am in this body, to stir you up by way of reminder (2 Peter 1:13, ESV, emphasis mine)
The Athenians would love the blogosphere. Some items on others' blogs made me consider how blogging appeals to the Athenian spirit and may even nurture it. Last month Justin Taylor, with tongue in cheek, began a post commenting on a year-old article with these words:

I know blogging is supposed to be cutting edge, commenting on the latest article to appear and what not. I’m also aware that my blogging credentials might be revoked for highlighting an ancient article (from 2004). But I’m willing to take that risk.
In an insightful piece called Recovering Wisdom in the Blogosphere Joe Carter wrote:
Almost every blog has an archive listed by date and category but the average blog reader will never take advantage of this resource. Why? Because we assume that anything that was written in the past (i.e., last month) will be of little relevance today. We accept the absurd notion that the latest news is more necessary for understanding our times than the past. But, to paraphrase the historian Arnold Toynbee, the blogger trying to understand the present is like the man with his nose pressed against the mirror trying to see his whole body.
In addition to making us intolerant of what is old and known, our craving for the current can train us to readily dismiss anything that requires sustained attention. I speak from experience. The confession of an anonymous commenter in response to one of my previous posts could easily be mine:

The scary thing for this "cognitive tourist" is that I find myself scanning for and reading the shortest blog entries and articles most of the time. Even if a blog entry title is something that peaks my interest I will most likely skip it if it looks too lengthy! I almost skipped over [your post] due to it's length... sad, I know. With so many great blogs out there and great links one is left with the sense that there is just no time to stop and think too long. You just have to keep going and going so you don't miss anything, but in the end you end up digesting very little.

Saturday, January 13, 2007

Quentin Schultze on Using Technology Wisely

Last November the Carl F. H. Henry Center for Theological Understanding hosted Dr. Quentin Schultze as part of its Scripture and Ministry Lecture Series. His topic was "Beyond the Digital Rat Race: Using Technology Wisely in Our Lives, Work, and Churches." I had the pleasure of attending and encourage those who didn't to make prudent use of their computers by listening to the audio [download].

Monday, October 30, 2006

Quentin Schultze at Trinity

Those in the vicinity of Trinity Evangelical Divinity School may be interested in this. Dr. Quentin Schultze, Professor of Communication Arts and Sciences at Calvin College and author of Habits of the High-Tech Heart (which I've referred to here and here) and High-Tech Worship?, will be speaking this Wednesday, November 1, on Trinity's campus. The lecture is part of the Carl F. H. Henry Center for Theological Understanding "Scripture and Ministry Lecture Series." Dr. Schultze's topic will be "Beyond the Digital Rat Race: Using Technology Wisely in Our Lives, Work, and Churches." Here's the description offered by the Center:
All of us are burdened with desires and demands to expand our technical abilities and to push for greater use of information and communication technologies in our daily lives. Yet the temptations to overuse and misuse technologies are evident all around us. How can we equip ourselves, our families, and our congregations to use email, PowerPoint, cell phones, instant messaging, personal Web sites, and other technologies appropriately?
The seminar is free, open to the public, and requires no registration. If you're anywhere in the area and your schedule allows you to attend, I encourage you to do so.

Audio archives and/or notes from past Henry Center seminars and conferences are available here.

Friday, May 27, 2005

Athens in Cyberland

Before recounting Paul's address to the Areopagus, Luke offers the following parenthetical description of the Athenian climate: "Now all the Athenians and the foreigners who lived there would spend their time in nothing except telling or hearing something new" (Acts 17:21). This once great city was a draw for people who trafficked in ideas -especially those hot off the mental press. New philosophies were to Athens what fashion is to Manhattan's Seventh Avenue. This reputation for being a city populated by people with a craving for novelty was long-standing. Richard Longenecker, in his commentary on Acts, cites Cleon, a fifth-century BC politician and general, as telling his fellow Athenians: "You are the best people at being deceived by something new that is said."

There is nothing new under the sun, including our ravenous desire for what is novel. Aren't we frequently driven by the lust (and I don't think that's too strong a word) for something new? I think about the time I've wasted glued to some cable news channel fearful that I might miss a breaking story or further developments of a major story already out. In an attempt to keep the viewing audience tuned in, it's not uncommon for the hosts of one news program to talk with the host of the following program. Hannity & Colmes, for instance, after saying about everything that could possibly be said about the major story of the day will ask Greta Van Susteren what's coming up on her show. "Well, Sean, we'll be covering the latest breaking news on the story you've been talking about," she says. Translation: "I'll be taking a few more swings at the horse you and Alan just beat to death." Still, I watch just in case there really is something new.

The hunger for newness is also quite apparent in the church. How many times have you heard someone, after hearing a sermon, say with disappointment, "He didn't say anything I didn't already know" or "I didn't learn anything new"? Those of us charged with the task of preaching and teaching are equally afflicted by the quest for the uncommon. We may, at times, be embarrassed to declare familiar truths to God's people, forgetting that informing is only one goal of biblical proclamation. Reminding believers of what they already know is of equal value. Understanding this is what led Peter to write:
Therefore I intend always to remind you of these qualities, though you know them and are established in the truth that you have. I think it right, as long as I am in this body, to stir you up by way of reminder (2 Peter 1:13, ESV, emphasis mine)
The Athenians would love the blogosphere. Some items on others' blogs made me consider how blogging appeals to the Athenian spirit and may even nurture it. Last month Justin Taylor, with tongue in cheek, began a post commenting on a year-old article with these words:

I know blogging is supposed to be cutting edge, commenting on the latest article to appear and what not. I’m also aware that my blogging credentials might be revoked for highlighting an ancient article (from 2004). But I’m willing to take that risk.
In an insightful piece called Recovering Wisdom in the Blogosphere Joe Carter wrote:


Almost every blog has an archive listed by date and category but the average blog reader will never take advantage of this resource. Why? Because we assume that anything that was written in the past (i.e., last month) will be of little relevance today. We accept the absurd notion that the latest news is more necessary for understanding our times than the past. But, to paraphrase the historian Arnold Toynbee, the blogger trying to understand the present is like the man with his nose pressed against the mirror trying to see his whole body.

In addition to making us intolerant of what is old and known, our craving for the current can train us to readily dismiss anything that requires sustained attention. I speak from experience. The confession of an anonymous commenter in response to one of my previous posts could easily be mine:

The scary thing for this "cognitive tourist" is that I find myself scanning for and reading the shortest blog entries and articles most of the time. Even if a blog entry title is something that peaks my interest I will most likely skip it if it looks too lengthy! I almost skipped over [your post] due to it's length... sad, I know. With so many great blogs out there and great links one is left with the sense that there is just no time to stop and think too long. You just have to keep going and going so you don't miss anything, but in the end you end up digesting very little.

Monday, April 04, 2005

Verbal Litter

There are a lot of areas in which my conscience stands in need of greater sensitizing but one behavior about which I'm already scrupulous is littering. I have very little tolerance for people who cavalierly toss trash out of car windows and drop wrappers, cans, or bottles wherever they happen to be upon completing their contents. If you ever do my laundry you'll want to make sure you check my pants pockets first. There you'll most likely find scraps of paper and gum wrappers that I intended to throw out when I got to the next garbage can but never did. No, littering is not a temptation to which I'm prone.

The information age is strewn with verbal (not to mention visual) litter. I'm thinking about the proliferation of words that computers and other media allow us to generate and disseminate so easily that words become cheap and the wonder and responsibility of communication escape us. By verbal litter I mean the heaps of words that are carelessly spoken, typed, and forwarded; that must be waded through in search of those that are really valuable. Part of my reticence to begin blogging was due to the fear of contributing to the staggering volume of foolishness. According to Proverbs 18:2, a fool takes no pleasure in understanding but only in expressing his opinion. For that reason, the internet with its chatrooms, emails, blogs, and websites can be a fool's paradise.

Proverbs personifies wisdom and folly as two women calling out to the passersby to come in and dine upon the meals they've prepared. Lady Wisdom raises her voice "on the heights beside the way, at the crossroads she takes her stand; beside the gates in front of the town, at the entrance of the portals" (Prov. 8:1). There she pleads with the naive and simple to heed her invitations: "To you, O men, I call, and my cry is to the children of man. O simple ones, learn prudence; O fools, learn sense." (Prov. 8:4-5). The reason she must raise her voice is because she is situated in the hub of activity, the city gates abuzz with commerce and a variety of other social activities. She must contend with countless other voices conveying messages far more appealing. She struggles to be heard above the din.

In an editorial that appeared in the March 20th volume of the Chicago Tribune ("Knowledge in U.S.: I Know I'm Right and You're Wrong") Robert McHenry, former editor of the Encyclopedia Britannica, describes the modern counterpart to the proverbial depiction of wisdom's struggle to be heard:
The simple fact is that the Internet has made instantly available to anyone who can connect to it all the information but also all the misinformation, all the thoughtful judgments as well as all the mindless prejudices, that the human race has thus far been able to digitize. It is left for us, the users whose lives are not lived entirely online but in the world, somehow to wade through these terabytes of data. Unfortunately, we are not, most of us, very good at this.

The frequent warnings against speaking rashly and answering before hearing a matter (marks of the fool and not the wise person) should lead us to seriously ponder how we make use of this medium. There's no doubt that the internet can be a valuable tool but we need to be on guard against buying into the values of what Quentin Schultze calls informationism, the utopian belief that the ability to transmit, acquire, and store information at greater speeds and volume is the means to overcoming societal decay. According to Schultze, "Informationism stresses the instrumental value of accessing information over the intrinsic good in knowing well." It shouldn't be difficult to see how enticing an emphasis on the instrumental value of accessing information is to an evangelical culture in which pragmatism often trumps truth.
The ability to instantly respond afforded by blogging, email, and other forms of information technology can indeed be a good thing but not necessarily. Schultze alerts us to a potential disadvantage:

Quickly sending and receiving short digital missives will never direct us to shalom. Many people have reached a point technologically where most of their communicating is only unreflective and trivial messaging. In the information age, we might be losing our capacity to listen and thus to become intimate with the moral wisdom embodied in religious practices. It may never even occur to us that listening can be a virtuous practice of willful obedience to truth. To listen is to give attention to the "other" - even to the divine other. From the perspective of cyberculture, listening is inefficient, old-fashioned, and impotent.

Unfortunately, Schultze's book, Habits of the High Tech Heart, is one whose cautionary notes will most likely only be read by those already aware of the dangers being cautioned against. Doug Groothuis's The Soul in Cyberspace is another valuable volume offering guidance in thinking about information technology from the perspective of a biblical worldview.