How Connected Do We Need To Be?
It was 2005. It was a technological year for me. I taught a class for the Religious Studies Department of the State University of New York at Buffalo on Paul’s strange first letter to the Corinthians. I was experimenting with the school’s new online course software called CourseInfo.® It had a quiz generator which the students loved because they could take the tests at home without leaving their dorms. With virtually all the time in the world to take the quizzes, they could look up any answer in their class notes or the web-stored lectures.
Actually, the quizzes served as a forced review of the class material, achieving my original goal. They did not have to sit in a church and hear a talk on 1st Corinthians in a setting where they would not be aware of the historical, religious, cultural and linguistic issues prompting Paul to write such a diverse and difficult response. If their ministers ever failed to do their homework before their Sunday presentations on Corinthians, these students would know it.
Many of these students were not attending churches. Churches, by in large, were not making a connection with the 20’s age group. The clergy and the staunch leaders of the denominational franchises would have to wait for their second chance when these young adults might return for wedding and baptism certifications.
It’s odd to me that some people spend their lifetime having nothing at all to do with a local church and yet they are hell-bent to make sure they participate in two church rituals — baptism and a wedding in a church building. It’s almost like they have to have these two good luck charms in order to move ahead several squares on their Americana board game of life.
But when the pager on my hip starts to vibrate, it reminds me that I have succumbed to the lure of yet another gadget. This time, it’s the Motorola “Talkabout”® pager. Perhaps their Marketing department wanted to create an image of a “walkabout” in the Australian “outback.” . . . Tie me kangaroo
down sport, . . . whatever.
My last pager had stopped functioning and the service provider suggested I subscribe to paging and email services with the cell phone I already own. This, I figured, would necessitate me leaving my phone on all the time to get pages. The attractive young woman behind the counter suggested I also purchase a vibrating cell phone battery so the whole phone can vibrate.
What they failed to realize is that cell phones (then) were too large to be pagers. Can you imagine carrying around a beeper the size of a banana and have it suddenly begin vibrating in your pocket or purse? Good grief, you could get arrested or something.
“Excuse me but I think there is a phone over on your desk that is having a seizure.”
This little technological wonder looked like a miniature computer from a kid’s gum ball machine. It’s keyboard was small enough to be operated by an eight inch tall touch typist. It was the width and thickness of the palm of your hand. The little screen displayed the telephone number of the individual paging you.
Those calling my pager number had some options. They could leave a voicemail message. When a voice message arrives, the display on my device noted a voice message was waiting. This prompted me to dial the number on the nearest phone and listen to the message.
Another option of this paging service connected the caller with a live operator who will type whatever the caller dictates. That typed message then appeared on the pager screen.
Pick up eggs on your way home.
I am sorry I missed the class quiz on line but my computer isn’t working and I couldn’t get on one at the school library because my car wouldn’t start.
Imagine standing in line, looking down at your pager and it says, …
My divorce lawyer has documented all of your shenanigans and we’ll see you in court.
You look up and respond to the person behind the counter, “I’d like a cheeseburger, a fries, chocolate milkshake and several aspirin please.”
There was even an internet address assigned to this device so people could type a note directly to my pager from their computers. I could read these messages wherever I traveled. I even instructed my email account to forward all received communications to my pager. Since the pager used wireless and internet technology, I could actually type a response to the text messages sent to the pager and there was not a cost-per minute fee.
With this much accessibility, I wondered just who I thought I was? The Almighty? There are not that many people who need my immediate attention. Maybe I’m having a midlife crisis?
Someday, with live video function, are we going to need to rent a small locker into which to put these things to get a little privacy? Someday, will we be surprised to see our friends or boss conduct a video conversation with us from our pocket when we reach for change to pay a cashier? “Are you truly happy with your cellular carrier?” one voice might ask us.
Perhaps it’s our loneliness that prompts us to want to be so accessible in our cellular and internet connections. Frankly, I would like it if God would send me a digital message once in a while.
Nice going on how you handled that road-raged jerk of a driver
… God might type to me.
Buy Lucent Technologies stock — now!
… God might advise.
Missed you in worship services yesterday
… I’d be reminded.
Stop everything and go back and apologize. She was right and you completely missed the most important thing. I don’t know why I ask her to stay with you.
Maybe it’s fear. Perhaps we’re hoping someone will send us the one little encouragement or bit of information that will come at just the right time.
Maybe the Almighty has been sending messages we’ve ignored. Missed any messages lately?
Today, we no longer need pagers. With today’s smaller and more powerful cell phones, we are now able to connect with anyone and at any time. We can do business anywhere. But have you noticed we run the risk of never being in touch with ourselves? In the overall technological seduction, we can easily forget that our primary connection to life is through our own physical and internal self.
With all this talk about connectivity, what about connectivity to ourselves? Are we becoming so connected to everyone else that we feel some kind of disconnect with our true self? We are at the beach on the cell phone, so are we there?¹
¹ See John Kabat-Zinn, p.152=153. Coming To Our Senses, Healing Ourselves and the World Through Mindfulness, (New York: Hyperion, 2005) ISBN: 0–7868–6756–6.
