Jay Kim Thinks…

There are no ordinary people.  You have never talked to a mere mortal.  Nations, cultures, arts, civilization—these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat.  But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and exploit—immortal horrors or everlasting splendors. – C.S. Lewis (The Weight of Glory)

I have digital addictions.  My laptop, my phone, my television.  These things own me more than I’m usually willing to admit.  This has been true for a while now but I finally came to a clear realization of it just the other day while in line at Starbucks.  I must’ve walked in at a particularly busy time of the day.  There were at least five people in front of me and another four or five behind me.  The Starbucks itself was full of people, all busy with their laptops and conversations.  Without any sort of conscious awareness of what I was doing, I pulled out my phone.  I went online to check my facebook.  Nothing was happening.  No notices, no invites.  I checked my email.  No new emails.  Or at least, none I was interested in reading.  I checked my calendar.  Nothing important going on and nothing interesting to look forward to.  I checked my text messages.  No new messages.  I don’t have an iPhone, so pulling up a game to play was not an option.  So I stared.  The line was still long and I wasn’t going to be helped any time soon, so I simply fixed my gaze onto the menu screen of my Blackberry.  Intoxicated by the faux safety I felt in the comfort of my phone, I clutched it as my dearest friend.  As if too afraid to look up at the real life people surrounding me, I continued to stare at my phone, without intention or need.  I simply stared at the inanimate so that I wouldn’t have to face the dynamic and alive all around.

This is the world we live in.  Next time you’re in a public place, look around at anyone and everyone not talking to another person.  Count how many of them are on their phone, laptop, or some other digital device.  Most of us are digital addicts.  It’s as though the circuitry mysteriously finds its way into our veins and our devices become our organs.  Without them we feel helpless and confused.  When the network is down in our offices or the internet connection is bad in our homes, we panic.  But the panic that really ought to be setting in is the one driven by the undeniable reality that in improving our connection to the digital world, we are compromising our ability to connect with the real world – the one full of people, stories, emotions, and wonders, the one that digital circuitry will never be able to replicate or produce.

C.S. Lewis lived in a world much different than ours.  Technology then wasn’t what it is now.  However, technology is not the evil we are fighting.  Our real enemy is the tendency to isolate ourselves in the controlled safety of solitude for fear of losing control in the expansive reality of people.  But as Lewis writes, it is in the midst of people, in both their most wondrous and most mundane, that we experience everlasting splendors.  There is indeed great risk in putting down our digital devices to take time to be with people.  Our devices can’t hurt, harm, or betray us.  Our devices never judge us or challenge us.  They await our commands and comply without complaint.  But people are dangerous.  We’ve been hurt by people.  People have betrayed, harmed, judged, and challenged us.  And they will continue to do so.  But they are also the walking, talking, breathing, living icons of God in heaven.  We are all, together, the full expressions of God’s love manifest in flesh and bones.  So put down your phone and take some time to be with people.  It’s risky but the rewards are spectacular.