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.

Christianity and Technological Surrealism

Lauren Winner's review of James Houston's Joyful Exiles: Life in Christ on the Dangerous Edge of Things concludes with the following excerpt from the book:

It is the supremacy of the technologically surreal to which organized Christianity has succumbed. Take, for example, the recent film The Passion of the Christ. People wept over its celluloid presentation as they never would have done in reading the Gospel narrative because it was so much more vivid to the senses. Was their response then hyper-real or real? Is the Sunday service more impressive when the PowerPoint presentation eclipses the preacher's sermon? Or does the message become more and more implausible with each technique used to market it? Does personal communication become muffled and withdrawn when the hearer is distracted by the medium?

A Screwtape Letter for the Media Age

Erik Lokkesmoe imagines what kind of advice C. S. Lewis's Screwtape would give his neophyte nephew today:

Good news! The latest commendations have arrived from the Council of the Pit. You impress the lower-downs, my zealous Wormwood. They have heard of your schemes on the Noise Proliferation Committee (NPC). Indeed, places of solitude and moments of silence grow ever more scarce in the Enemy's vast and vulgar dominion. Oh, what euphoria to see his insufferable creatures rush to fill the dead air with a cacophony of cell phones and muzac, leaf blowers and manipulated car exhaust pipes, 24-hour news and I-Pods. Those nauseating humans cannot escape their self-made dungeon of din!

My pride bubbles like brimstone, Wormwood.

It is down-wrong delicious that you are able to entice your assignments into believing that quiet and solitude are a waste of time, even harmful to their pursuits. We must be the demon in the whirlwind, invading their private space, cluttering their innermost being with commotion.....

I trust you understand what is at stake. If allowed to contemplate the empty pursuits and hollow activity that often fill their days, there is no telling what horrific changes they may make in their lives. As long as the volume is high and the lights are flashing, there is little danger of this. But when allowed to face things as they really are, stripped of the comfort provided by our dizzying distractions, our subjects often choose against our ways.

Read the whole thing.