Could We Have Been Nazis? Healing Cultural Blindness

Healing Cultural Blindness: A Christian School Mandate Guest Post by Mark Kennedy, ACSI Canada

“I counsel you to buy gold refined in the fire so you can become rich, and white clothes to wear so you can cover up your shameful nakedness and salve to put on your eyes so you can see.” (Rev. 3:18).

Nobody likes Nazis. Well, at least I didn’t in 1973 when I was a young teacher in a Toronto boys’ school. I’d seen most of the Hollywood war movies and knew for sure that Nazis were all gleefully and unrepentantly evil people. Who could possibly have any sympathy for them?

That’s why I was shocked.

“I was in the Hitler youth,” said our school nurse, a weary sadness clouding her kind eyes, “All the young people were. We just thought it was normal.”

Normal! How could that possibly be normal?’ I thought, but didn’t ask. I was too appalled.

The problem with statements like that is that they can start you thinking and I didn’t like some of my thoughts. What troubled me most were a couple of questions, ‘What would I be like if I had grown up in Nazi Germany?’ and, even more disturbing, ‘Under the same conditions could I have been one of them?

What if I had almost no exposure to North American ideals of freedom and virtue, let alone to the gospel message? In a totalitarian Nazi culture where every public expression was carefully censored and dissent violently suppressed I would have been ‘marinated', in that one worldview. And unless I had secret access to a different perspective, chances are I would have accepted the tenets of Hitler’s Nazism as ‘normal’ too. Like our school nurse I may well have been oblivious to any other ideas, blinded by my culture.

The scriptures are replete with examples of cultural blindness – that condition where people can’t or won’t recognize truth because of their loyalty to national or societal values. A case in point is the church that Jesus rebukes in the prosperous city state of Laodicea.

“You say, ‘I am rich; I have acquired wealth and do not need a thing.’ But you do not realize that you are wretched, pitiful, poor, blind, and naked.” Rev 3:16 & 17

The people of Laodicea had become prosperous in legitimate and even admirable ways. They built up a successful industry refining precious metals, they wove textiles of a quality second to none and they produced salve that cured certain types of blindness. Christians there didn’t just enjoy the fruit of the city’s prosperity, they absorbed its secular values. The Laodicean status quo was fine with them. They were blinded by the standards of the materialistic society around them and they weren’t interested in having their blindness healed.

It is no accident that Jesus chose to condemn the very things the Laodiceans cherished most; their wealth, textiles, and eye ointment.

“There are none so blind as those that will not see,” says Mathew Henry in his Commentaries. Our school nurse knew the kind of cultural blindness that is inevitable in a totalitarian society. But the cultural blindness of the Laodicean Christians was worse because they had the God’s illuminating truth in the Old Testament scriptures and apostolic teachings. But they chose not to see.

I wonder how contemporary North American Christianity will appear to students at the end of this 21st century—people who aren’t suffering from our particular strain of cultural blindness. What will they think of our Christian schools? Will they look at us and see ‘God‘s school system’ or will some of our schools appear to be mere defenders of an ideology that is chronically conservative unthinkingly religious, and assertively materialistic? Will they see by our actions (if not by our words) that we venerate the values of the secular business world around us without question, absorbing its priorities, sharing its definition of “the bottom line,” and seeking first the kingdom of gold in the fervent hope that what’s good for General Motors is good for Christian schools?

In this first decade of this millennium we in North American Christian schools still have a wonderful opportunity and privilege. We’re still allowed to teach the two things that can raise our students above contemporary North American values, including the values we may have wrongly venerated in the past. We can teach a Christian worldview and biblical discernment - and we had better teach them well! We had better prepare our students to examine our North American culture as well as our evangelical Christian subculture in the light of the unchanging Scriptures. After all we have a distinct advantage over the church members in Laodicea. For now at least North Americans have free access to the whole counsel of God‘s Word. We can use it to help cure our students of the blindness that so easily afflicts us all—to discern where we have been mirroring and even exalting the false virtues of the broader society just like the Church of Laodicea did. And if our students accept the cure maybe they will build a Christian community that is increasingly defined by scripture.

It won‘t be easy. For us and for the Church of Laodicea, cultural blindness is a serious disability compounded by our stubborn tendency to deny it exists.

Jesus once asked a blind man, “Do you want to be healed”? When it came to cultural blindness, the Church of Laodicea in effect said, “No thanks.” And that is probably why it doesn’t exist today. We had better help our Christian school students respond to Jesus question with a resounding “YES!!”

Jesus, Save Us From Your Followers

By Jay Matthews

Just had the privilege to view the documentary in selected theaters, "Jesus Save Us From Your Followers." I had an inside source allow me to see a DVD of it and have had some time to view it in sections.

Very clever movie and very impressive in terms of the visual presentation and trendy graphics.

The documentary explores the polarization of American culture over issues of faith and asks a great question: What is wrong? Why is there so much venom over such a beautiful message- the gospel of Jesus Christ?

Dan Merchant presents an excellent exploration of this caustic culture in these important areas.

I found the movie helpful in some points, but too silent on two large aspects of this issue.

First: We have lost civil dialogue in this culture. Disagreement usually means 'war'. Instead of honest debate- we hurl sound bites over the internet or through talking heads. I agree that we have lost humility and love in the message. The section of the movie (inspired by Blue Like Jazz) of Christian confession was very powerful.

Second: We are ignorant of opposing worldviews and uneducated in the trends of mainstream culture. The culture war mantra has made these issue oriented debates instead of human relationships.

I agree with these premises and, sadly, am guilty as charged.

But there are two other major problems in our presentation of the gospel.

1) We need to be more tender to the 'world' - but we have lost accountability inside the church. There is no discernible difference inside the American church and outside the American church today. We are guilty of loving the world. We have the same consumerist tendencies- we have the same divorce rate- we have the same pattern of addiction and cynicism. Our lips love Jesus, but our hearts love the world.

This problem stems from a lack of seeing sin as serious. We have preached the watered down gospel. To quote Niebur,

A God without wrath brought men without sin into a Kingdom without judgment through the ministrations of a Christ without a Cross.

The bad news is not bad... so the good news is not good.

2) We also stand as the most biblically illiterate generation in America. Our reading comprehension slowly dwindles and the light of the Word is dimming. I recently read a handout from C.S. Lewis to my freshman Bible class- when I finished a student said, "I didn't understand a word he said."

The purity of the church is diminishing because God's word is being eclipsed in our midst.

We should be tender to others and tough on ourselves. We need God's Spirit to convict us of sin. We need to stop posing and come clean in our sin- but we also need to move toward repentance and holiness.

One final comment- the Gospel of Christ will be offensive. Granted, it should be the only offensive part of our life as we seek to love, serve, in humility live above reproach. But if we ever think that we will live in harmony with the world.... don't be gullible.

So I come away from the movie conflicted... I want to stand for righteousness and preach forgiveness. That means drawing hard lines which will make me appear intolerant and offensive. I need to love sinners, but I cannot ignore sin.

Sin destroys.. the gospel heals. Help me Lord find the balance- help me walk in the truth. Anyone else seen this documentary? Comments? I won't be offended if you disagree!

Not So Fast: Is Technology Diminishing Our Quality of Life?

Anyone who has been reading this blog knows that I am an advocate for the appropriate and effective use of technology in our personal lives and in our schools.  I am not a Luddite.

Nevertheless, I also share the conviction that technology, like many good things in our lives, can become an obsession and a cruel master.  Any addiction, even to good things, is harmful and unbiblical whether it is sex, food, work, or technology.

I recently came across a beautifully written article by John Freeman in the Wall Street Journal.  You can read the entire article here.  If the link is broken, you can access the article in PDF format here.

Because the article is copyrighted I will not post it here but I am providing a short excerpt with the hope that you will read the entire article. 

Not So Fast (August 29, 2009) WSJ Online

… We will die, that much is certain; and everyone we have ever loved and cared about will die, too, sometimes—heartbreakingly—before us. Being someone else, traveling the world, making new friends gives us a temporary reprieve from this knowledge, which is spared most of the animal kingdom. Busyness—or the simulated busyness of email addiction—numbs the pain of this awareness, but it can never totally submerge it. Given that our days are limited, our hours precious, we have to decide what we want to do, what we want to say, what and who we care about, and how we want to allocate our time to these things within the limits that do not and cannot change. In short, we need to slow down.

Our society does not often tell us this. Progress, since the dawn of the Industrial Age, is supposed to be a linear upward progression; graphs with upward slopes are a good sign. Process­ing speeds are always getting faster; broadband now makes dial-­up seem like traveling by horse and buggy. Growth is eternal. But only two things grow indefinitely or have indefinite growth firmly ensconced at the heart of their being: cancer and the cor­poration. For everything else, especially in nature, the consum­ing fires eventually come and force a starting over.

The ultimate form of progress, however, is learning to decide what is working and what is not; and working at this pace, emailing at this frantic rate, is pleasing very few of us. It is encroaching on parts of our lives that should be separate or sacred, altering our minds and our ability to know our world, encouraging a further distancing from our bodies and our natures and our communities. We can change this; we have to change it. Of course email is good for many things; that has never been in dispute. But we need to learn to use it far more sparingly, with far less dependency, if we are to gain control of our lives.

In the past two decades, we have witnessed one of the greatest breakdowns of the barrier between our work and per­sonal lives since the notion of leisure time emerged in Victorian Britain as a result of the Industrial Age. It has put us under great physical and mental strain, altering our brain chemistry and daily needs. It has isolated us from the people with whom we live, siphoning us away from real-world places where we gather. It has encouraged flotillas of unnecessary jabbering, making it difficult to tell signal from noise. It has made it more difficult to read slowly and enjoy it, hastening the already declining rates of literacy. It has made it harder to listen and mean it, to be idle and not fidget. This is not a sustainable way to live. This lifestyle of being constantly on causes emotional and physical burnout, work­place meltdowns, and unhappiness. How many of our most joyful memories have been created in front of a screen?

If we are to step off this hurtling machine, we must reassert principles that have been lost in the blur. It is time to launch a manifesto for a slow communication movement, a push back against the machines and the forces that encourage us to remain connected to them. Many of the values of the Internet are social improvements—it can be a great platform for solidarity, it rewards curiosity, it enables convenience. This is not the mani­festo of a Luddite, this is a human manifesto. If the technology is to be used for the betterment of human life, we must reassert that the Internet and its virtual information space is not a world unto itself but a supplement to our existing world, where the following three statements are self-evident …

Remember, click here to read the full article or if the link is broken, you can access the article in PDF format here.

The God of Technology, or The god of Technology

Jim Drexler of Covenant College alerted me to this article on CARDUS.  After reading it I immediately wrote Mr. Evans and asked his permission to post it on my blog, which is graciously granted. 

I believe you will find this article very helpful and informative.  It strikes a very positive and helpful balance for developing a Christian perspective on technology that is neither afraid nor idolatrous.  I also found this article of particular interest because Mr. Evans knows what he is talking about.  Here is an excerpt from his bio.:

Dave Evans is 30-plus year veteran executive of Silicon Valley who offers a range of professional services to rapidly growing companies and personal mentoring to individuals. Since 1990, Dave has been assisting high-tech clients in strategic planning, sales and marketing, new business development, mergers and alliances, growth management, and executive development. Dave's client list has focused on early stage start-ups but also includes Fortune companies including such leaders as Veritas/Symantec, HP, Intel, and AT&T. (He's also negotiated fishing rights for the Inuit in Alaska—but that's a whole 'nuther story).  Prior to consulting, Dave was VP and Co-Founder of software publisher Electronic Arts, led the introduction of the mouse and laser printing at Apple, and has held senior marketing positions with IBM/ROLM Corporation and voicemail inventor and manufacturer VMX (now Avaya).

Since his college days, Dave has had an abiding, faith-nourished commitment to living and helping others live a coherent life—thoroughly integrating soul and role, especially in the realm of vocation …

I also highly recommend that you read the excellent material found on the CARDUS website. 

The God of technology, or the god of Technology?

Posted with permission from Dave Evans.

July 31, 2009 - Dave Evans

After 34 years of high tech work in Silicon Valley, I have found myself drawn into more than a few discussions with people of faith about technology. How we think about technology matters, and I'd like to make some suggestions for these kinds of conversations.

First, let's define what we mean by technology. Dictionary.com (an online definition seems appropriate) defines it as "the branch of knowledge that deals with the creation and use of technical means and their interrelation with life, society and the environment, drawing upon such subjects as industrial arts, engineering, applied science, and pure science." In short, technology is about tools.

All tools—from the first stick Adam used to soften the dirt to the latest wireless LAN software I had to reinstall to transmit this article to the editors of Comment—share the same character: they enable humankind to enhance the execution of human ability. Tools allow people to do the kinds of things they can already do, but do them bigger, faster, cheaper or better than they can without the tool.

Technology is just a tool, so our thinking about it needs to be grounded in a thoughtful perspective on tools—dare I say, a thoughtful theology of tools and technology. The definition of technology which I cited contains three key elements: creation, use and interrelationship. With these defining elements in mind, let's look at two ideas related to technology that I think warrant more thoughtful attention: newness and availability.

Newness

Technology, especially within modern society's understanding of technology, is focused on the new thing brought about by the latest science. Michael Lewis captured this perspective well in his book about legendary Silicon Graphics founder Jim Clark, titled The New New Thing. Why are we so inexorably excited about and drawn to the new thing? I'll argue because God made us that way, and it's a good thing. We are made in God's image; we bear the imago Dei.

One of the first things we learn about God is that he is creative, and in a dynamic way. God does not merely make stuff that lies there. God makes stuff that grows and lives and moves in time, space, history and the unfolding story of God and creation.

An astonishing hint to the nature of things is embedded in the fact that creation wasn't finished all at once in a Big Bang. Why didn't God bring the present world into being with just one quick flick of the divine wrist? He didn't zap the cosmos into completion, but labored at it a while, revealing new wonders day by day. At each step along the way, God reflected on the latest thing and concluded it was good. God created the way he did out of love. The dynamic God conceived and made a dynamic universe, and in so doing, wired the continual refreshment of newness into the very heart of all reality.

I'm not saying all new is good, but good new is very good indeed. We are invited—commanded actually—to co-create with God in order to bring respectful and loving order to this world. We are to engage ourselves in the human endeavor of stewardship to care for all creation in order that all persons, and everything else too, may more and more live into what God has in mind for the world.

It's an amazing adventure, and technology enables us to do that work. As anthropologists well know, tool making is an essential aspect of what makes us distinctly human, and as Christians we understand that it's an essential aspect of what makes us God's image-bearing children. It's a triple win—we get to participate in the innovating of technology (creation) and the application of that technology (use) to do good in the world (interrelationship).

I believe the movement of newness God set in motion in creation and in each of us fuels our healthy attraction to the new that we so experience in our encounter with technology. We in fact worship the (capital G) God of (small t) technology.

Availability

Most of us want the latest available technology. Usually, available technology is the newest thing that works fairly reliably and is economically accessible. When will the next iPhone or cold fusion or a 100mpg car be available?

Those are good questions, but they fall short. The key is not just the technology's availability, but how available it makes us. The purpose of technology is to buy us more time to be available to other things, or to makes us more effective in some endeavour (and so allow us a greater avail upon the world). Good technology is all about availability.

I may here sound as if I'm merely surfacing the age-old technological tension between good technology and good use of technology. While that's a relevant issue, it's not what I'm getting at here. I'm advocating for something less obvious and more profound: an availability consciousness that can transform our relationship with technology, both collectively and individually.

The Christian life is a particular way of life grounded in a continual awareness of God's constant presence and active invitation. Jesus said that he could do only what the Father showed him (John 5:19). Jesus lived in constant availability to the Father, and so should we. That means that all our endeavours and all the tools and processes and techniques and collaborations and organizations that we use to live out our lives are to be engaged, while still retaining a sense of availability to what else is going on and what else God may be showing us. We need to learn a way of being that is contextualized in a larger frame than the current situation, seeing a picture that's bigger than what meets the eye. By always being a little outside our situation, we are actually made more available to be present to the situation; this is an aspect of the freedom we gain by dying to self and becoming alive to God.

Such availability has a very real expression in our encounter with technology. Technology is attractive because of the God-given allure of the new new thing—but it's also "sticky," in that for many of us, it entraps our attention, making us so focused on it that we become less, not more, available. We may have technologically bought ourselves some time, but that time is only valuable (as opposed to merely accessible) if we can direct our use of it from a position of availability. Retaining access to this kind of awareness is what I mean by an availability consciousness. I'm not suggesting we reserve 6% of our brains to constantly chant, "What else is going on?" or "What's God saying now?" The issue is more nuanced than that—it has to do with one's point of view, one's way of seeing and engaging at all times.

Let me give an example. I went to a baseball game with a friend last night and the guy sitting next to us was drunker than he realized. He was also yelling more loudly, crudely and disruptively than he realized. He did not have access to a sufficient degree of self-awareness or self-control to see the impact of his actions. He's probably a pretty decent fellow with fewer beers in him, but neither he nor we could recognize it at the time. We all lost something in the process (he got thrown out, and we were distracted).

That's the critical question—can you recognize your degree of availability? Given the immense power for good and the incredible attractiveness of today's dazzling and elegant technologies, it's easy to lose our availability without knowing it. Ever so subtly, technology becomes the object of our attention, rather than the tool of it. Developing an availability consciousness will help us guard against accidentally slipping into making a god of Technology, rather than responding to the God of technology.

We need to match technology's advances with our own increasing maturity as technology creators, users and observers. Perhaps we can better respond to that challenge by reflecting on what newness and availability have to tell us about technology and its use.