The Instagram Perspective

A snippet from the Instagram Welcome email reads like this:

“Share your perspective by capturing and sharing photos and videos from your day, whether it’s your morning routine or the trip of a lifetime"

On the face of it, the words are accurate. You are in fact literally sharing your perspective by showing whoever happens to be following you what you are seeing… or what you want them to see. But the previous statement also has the implied promise that if people see what you see they will feel what you feel.

Is it actually true?

Certainly I appreciate pictures of clear blue waters that show up on my feed from my coworkers vacations. But do I actually know what it is to be there in the sun and the sand? Or does it instead inspire a sometimes vague and sometimes less so sense of envy and discontent? There have been multiple articles in the recent past that suggest it is very much the latter.

Why then do we continue to use such technology?

Because when it all boils down to it we do, very much, want people to feel what we feel, to share our perspective of the world if even for a brief moment, because in that sharing we feel that we ourselves might become known.

And there is very little knowing going on in current culture. I was fortunate to have grown up before the technology boom and can therefore survive for several hours and sometimes even days at a time without my phone or indeed any electronic devices.

But I’ve recently run into a problem. While I am perfectly capable, judging by past relationships and ongoing friendships, of starting and maintaining a conversation, the people around me are growing less and less capable of providing the other side of such a conversation.

I spent the last two days at a leadership conference here in Rochester. It was at a location that I’d never visited before, and the only person I knew there was my brother, who came as my guest.

The first day, the only people who deigned to talk to us were the greeters, and one random pastor that I met in the lunch line. Even the people sitting at our lunch table were entirely involved in their own conversation and their phones, so much so that they didn’t even say hello. At a leadership conference.

I would like to point out here that there is a certain amount of humorous irony in that.

The second day I made the extra effort to strike up conversations during the meal, and I was rewarded with a tepid stream of basic facts that wound down into painful silence. Once we were the past the where are you from and what do you do part of the questions, no one seemed willing to go any farther. Why?

Personally, I was tired of trying to draw out even the dullest facts. Small talk is a tapeworm to my soul. It’s all well and good if you have to talk to someone in the grocery line, but it isn’t meant to last any longer than that. After that you have to have something else to say, something of substance and value.

Unfortunately, many such topics have at this point been ruled politically incorrect. Taking the risk of mentioning anything of gravity opens you up to all sorts of possible vehement and critical responses. Of course, you might also have the nice surprise of finding that the other person agrees with you. Or you might have the even better surprise of discovering that they don’t, and are still able to discuss their opinion with you in a manner both respectful and casual.

And that, dear reader, is what actual perspective sharing is about. Listening. Learning. Talking. Thinking. Not necessarily agreeing, but considering with grace and respect.

This is not something that can be captured in a photo or selfie, no matter what the current exchange rate of words/photography.

It isn’t something that is being taught in our schools, our universities, or our churches. I failed to mention this was a Christian leadership conference and therefore much of the normal fear of being shot down shouldn’t even have come into play.

And yet…

Could I have started something more serious myself? Certainly. Do I have a truly good excuse for not bringing up some facet of the day’s teaching and gathering opinions? An excuse, no. But an understanding as to why I didn’t. Yes. Conversation, any kind of conversation that goes deeper than the shallow subjects of one’s number of children and current career path, requires at least a modicum of interest in having a conversation to be shown on both sides. If even getting you to say hello is like pulling teeth, no one is likely to want to sit down for a nice chat about the current theological/political climate, or the state of the gender wars.

Sharing perspective is important. It is vital for communication that moves people forward. And it is dying, if not already dead and cremated, because this rich tool that, properly wielded, can bring together diverse people from cultures and countries around the world has been substituted for something no thicker than a single moment captured on a digital print that will itself vanish in 25 hours.

Reflections

The year is nearly over.

I sit beside my fireplace with a pot of coffee brewing. The snow gleams outside in the sharp winter air.

This is not Arizona.

The whole landscape of my life has changed, and not just externally.

Last January, about this time, started thinking about going to work in a field hospital in a war zone. That decision led to so many other new and unexpected things that it’s hard to look back and understand exactly what has happened in these twelve months.

More than anything, I think, this year has made me grateful. Grateful for good friends, supportive family and the opportunities with which I have been blessed. Also, for perhaps the very first time in my life, being single has come to feel like that gift that married people always talk about in church. I’ve nothing against married people at church, but they do seem to talk a lot about this subject without much experience…anyway.

Being unattached even feels a little bit selfish at times. For those of you who are single and don’t feel this way, trust me, I understand. I’ve spent most of my adult life without being in a romantic relationship, knowing that I have so much to offer, but with nothing promising on the horizon. I know all about long days of Netflix alone and random wandering through coffee shops in the hopes that you might turn someone’s head—although its unlikely because everyone now has their head buried in laptop and headphones or cellphone. At times, the thought of spending the rest of my life without that “special someone” to remember my birthday, etc. felt like the worst prison sentence in the world. And that whole “it’s a gift from God” idea made me want to hit some people in the face a few times. (I never did)

This year changed all of that for a variety of reasons. Perhaps, some of it comes from simple maturity. Being on the other side of thirty I like to think I’ve gained a little bit of emotional fortitude and stability that was simply unattainable at twenty or twenty-five.

Apart from that, I was able to pick up and leave my job when I heard God call me to go to Iraq. And that being called, so clearly and resolutely, shoved everything else into second place. I was ready to die if that was what was required. I don’t say this to sound somehow holy or righteous, but just to explain that I had a cause, a reason to exist that was entirely outside of myself. Nothing can match that. In my mind, no human being on the planet could be worth missing out on that feeling. All you need is love, the song says. But I think all you really need is to be love. That is what makes life worth living.

Secondly, while I was in Iraq, I saw the toll being a mother takes on a woman. It’s an entire life of selflessness, being held at the mercy, sometimes unwillingly, of a tiny, fretful, fearful human being who doesn’t understand anything except its own needs. Of course I still love babies, and if the opportunity arose, I might gather up the courage to have one myself. But right now, I very much enjoy the fact that I can sleep in on my days off, only have to worry about washing my own clothes, and can choose to eat ice cream and chips for dinner if I like without worrying about setting a bad example. For you mothers, whether your babies are grown or still waking up in the middle of the night, you are amazing. Maybe you have found your calling in raising children, and if you have, then you should understand the amazing feeling of being able to do what you love.

For you single women (and men if you happen to read this), I don’t suggest that you try to pull on your big girl (or boy) boots and just deal like a happy human when you feel alone and forgotten. It’s almost impossible to do. But I do suggest that you first put your focus on God, and second, find something that you love to do. Not because it brings you close to possible mates (see, I have been there—I know how you think), but because you love doing it, because it gives your life meaning and glorifies God. That looks different for everyone. Maybe you clean houses for the elderly or cook meals for the sick or take a frazzled mother of three out for coffee. Whatever it is, find it and run with it until God gives you something else. And He will, because He is good. His plan is perfect, and He loves you.

All of these things, and so many others, made me realize that I like not having roots. I like being able to go where I’m called. It would take a very, very patient and persistent man to keep up with me. (Not to mention put up with all of my weird) I don’t know if such a man exists. I don’t know if he should. All I know is that I am glad to be who I am and where I am.

Next year is nearly here.

I wait eagerly to see what it brings.

~~~

Isaiah 43:4

Because you are precious in my eyes, and honored, and I love you

Loose Lips and Sinking Ships

In the middle of chaos, the swirling fires of political arguments and fierce battles online between combatants that feel comfortable using insults they would never actually use face to face, I think it’s time we remember that we as Christians have a hope that it is impossible for anyone else in the world to understand.

Make no mistake about this, the world and the culture it has built is a sinking ship, and I believe that everyone on that ship instinctively knows that they are going down. This explains their desperation to hold onto anything and everything that might save them, even if that only happens to be the nearest handrail of the doomed vessel.

Those of us who have chosen to step into the life rafts can find it ridiculous, I know, that those still on the ship don’t just step off and join us in safety. But the handrails have become their only source of strength, as far as they are concerned, we are heading out into empty waters in a storm, and if they come with us they will be drowned. They don’t see where we are going. It is impossible that they should.

Now, we could crawl onto the sinking ship and try to pry their death grip from the handrail, but that isn’t advisable for many reasons, the first of which being that once we leave the safety of the lifeboat, we risk being sucked into the same terror and chaos that is swallowing every other soul on board. We are, after all, only human. The second reason is that those who know they are drowning are notorious for fighting desperately to survive, so desperately that they will take anyone near them down with them.

If we refuse the enter the fray, then what? Do we simply watch as the ship goes down and say good riddance? That is an option that some have chosen, but there are better options than either joining in the chaos or watching it without intervening.

First, we pray. Yes, simple, I know. There is only one person who can convince someone to release their death grip on the world, and—surprise—it isn’t me or you or any other human being. So it might be wise of us to enlist God’s help first and foremost.

Second, we take a deep breath…and then another, until that clenching of your jaw and that burning in your soul doesn’t make you want to strangle someone. And we must remind ourselves that no matter how brilliant our apologetics, we can’t argue someone into letting go of the world. Never, ever, ever. As Alexander MacLaren put it, “You cannot argue a man into loving God, any more than you can hammer a rosebud open.” So put aside all your weighty words and superior reasoning skills and start praying again.

Third, after grounding yourself in prayer and God, start thinking about throwing out some life preservers. While you can’t make anyone let go of the handrail, you can be sure that there is a life preserver in their vicinity if they ever do choose to let go on their own. What do life preservers look like, you ask? They look something like being the person at work who genuinely cares about their colleagues. Rather than getting ready to start an argument with anyone who disagrees with your beliefs, it looks like being the one who chooses their words with patience and wisdom…and knows when just to keep their mouth shut. It looks like being the one who notices when someone is hurting or in trouble. It looks like speaking words of beauty and life when everyone else is devolving into criticism and anger. And it looks like courtesy, respect and fighting for justice for the vulnerable and broken rather than trampling them underfoot in a righteous agenda. In short, sending out a life preserver looks like a lot of prayer through every aspect of your day, because you realize if you let go, you’ll be sinking yourself.

As a side note, this doesn’t mean we never fight. It doesn’t mean that we ignore injustice or allow abuse to continue. It just means we don’t fight about it with people at work. We don’t joi in destructive riots to “make a point” about whatever it is we want to make a point about. We just do it. If we don’t believe something is right, we don’t talk about it. We move to change it and support others who are doing the same.

Begging for Questions

Currently, I am living in a setting where I have known no one for more than a few days. This is an intensely uncomfortable place for me to be, because there is the constant fear of being misunderstood, that my rather dry and sometimes stupid wit will cause offense instead of laughter. The longer I am here the more I am realizing that I have not made it a habit to get to know people outside of my core group of friends.

I am a genius at small talk, but I rarely go any farther than just listening to whatever story they want to tell me. This has been a consistent trend in my life. I am not a person who requires a large group of friend. In fact, I feel the strains of required socialization quite keenly at times.

However, as I do feel I have been called by God to this location to be used as a witness not just for my medical skills, I've attempted to formulate a plan for getting to know people at more than a superficial level. For many, I realize, this may come naturally, and it may be helpful for you to know that some of us struggle, and it isn't because we don't care. If anything I think it is because once I really connect with someone I will never be able to stop caring about them. Love brings pain. They are inextricably connected. You cannot care about someone deeply without feeling what they feel, without being hurt when they are hurt or damaged when they tears themselves away. And this is a pain, or a risk of pain, that I have trained myself to be very good at avoiding.

Onward then to what I mean to do about this unacceptable fear. The question I really want the answer to is this: "What's your story? Who are you?"

This is a phrase that I always mean to use, and never quite do. Possibly because I'm terrified of what people might tell me, that it won't be something that I can respond to in the right way, or that it will irrevocably bond me to them in a way that maybe I don't want to be bound. 

And yet, without knowing someone's story, there is no real opening for relationship, any friendship is based only on what may be seen as common interests, as flimsy as a paper doll.

I am as guilty of not wanting to answer this question as I am of not asking it. The few times that people have really sat down and asked me to tell them about myself, my first defense is deflection and humor and a desperate hope that they will leave me alone inside my shell because it's pretty comfortable in here. Perhaps, another reason I don't ask is precisely because I don't wish to make anyone else feel that discomfort.

There is, however, a certain type of persistent person, who continues to look at me with questioning eyes after my first few attempts at throwing up a decoy. And it isn't until that moment that I actually start thinking about answering the question. I feel this isn't entirely a fair question either. It doesn't give any hint of what the asker is looking for in a response, and while it may simply be an accurate reflection of their interest in you as a person, it is entirely daunting to be expected to sum up your whole life in a coffee break or lunch. In order to give a little direction to the conversation, it might be easier to start with this question instead:

"What do you love?"

This question I think would be easier to answer as it has more defined limits than the expectation that several decades of experience could be condensed in any kind of articulate way. And it would, therefore, be easier for me to ask. Although, it could do with a decent segue. Again, it isn't often asked in my experience, but if you know what a person loves, it gives you a strong idea of who that person is and what is the best way to communicate with them. Some people love writing, or music, or art, or hiking, sailing, their families, holidays, working with disabled children, tutoring, speaking in front of crowds, or lying in the sun. I may be using the word love a bit too lightly here, but it's stronger than just a sense of 'what do you like to do'. These are things that bring solace to the soul. It might be better phrased as 'what do you think is the best thing in life?'

"What makes you angry/breaks your heart?"

This would be even easier for me to answer than the previous question, and once again, easier to ask. I have answered this questions, at least in part, in many of my other writings, and say nothing more about it, except that it is a question anyone can answer with, hopefully, very little set up.

I don't think this connection thing is a problem I face alone. There is a lack of honest dialogue in the world. And the fact is that it does require work, and you do take a risk in any kind of connection with another person. Culture in America has become one that teaches that discomfort is to be avoided at all costs, that pain is bad, and that simply is not true. As I said before pain is attached to love, to caring for anyone else. It is only through discomfort and uncertainty that we can press on to overcome challenges to create connections, to learn new skills, and ultimately fulfill our purpose as ambassadors of God in this world. If I dare not love the people around me, then what makes me think I might be capable of loving God?

"But Much-Afraid, I have already warned you that Love and pain go together, for a time at least. If you would know Love, you must know pain too." 

-- The Shepherd in Hind's Feet on High Places 

by Hannah Hurnard