Branded

It's been a long time since I watched BBC Question Time as I simply can't afford to keep replacing the television. Last night's line up looked set to make my blood boil, with Russell Brand pitched alongside the ubiquitous Nigel Farage, so I avoided it. Then this morning I read this by Russell Brand on Facebook. Though I don't agree with Brand's 'don't vote' agenda this is well worth a read.

Answer time
I’ve just got home from recording bbc tv’s political debate show Question Time and if you saw it and found it anti-climactic, I know how you feel.
Nigel Farage in the flesh, gin blossomed flesh that it is, inspires sympathy more than fear, an end of the pier, end of the road, end of days politician, who like many people who drink too much has a certain sloppy sadness. Camilla Cavendish who I was sat next to, seemed kindly and the two politicians from opposing parties, that flanked Dimbleby melted into an indistinguishable potage of cautious wonk words before I could properly learn which was blue and which was red. For my part I sat politely on my hands, keen to avoid hollering obscenities after a week of hypocrisy accusations and half-arsed, front page controversy.
Only the audience inspire passion or connection. Humanity. The usual preposterous jumble that you see in any of our towns, even if groomed and prepped by Auntie, they comparatively throb with authenticity opposite us, across the shark-eyed bank of cumbersome cameras.
The panelists have been together in “the green room” chatting, like before any TV show, and that’s what QT is, a TV show, a timid and tepid debate where the topics and dynamism of the discussion are as wooden and flat as the table we gamely sit around.
There is a practice question prior to the record, so the cameras can position and mics can be checked and the audience can practice harrumphing. In my dressing room at the modern Kentish theatre, before my sticky descent, I can hear them being prepped “ask questions, quarrel, applaud, keep those hands up”.
The practice question is a soft ball rhubarb toss about clumping kids or something and even though I’m determined to concentrate like a grown up, my mind drifts back to the Canterbury Food Bank I visited before arriving, partly to learn about it, as a researcher told me there might be question on them and first hand knowledge would make me look good, and partly because, y’know, I actually care.
In a warehouse in a retail park Christians and sixth formers assemble bags of what would rightly be considered “staples” in a kinder world. Tins of food and packets of biscuits and it’s good that we’re near to the “White Cliffs of Dover” because it feels like there’s a war on and the livid coloured packaging goes sepia in my mind as Dame Vera scores the melancholy scene.
The Christians are as Christians are, kind and optimistic. The donations come from ordinary local folk “We get more from the poorer people” says Martin, a quick deputy in a cuddly jumper. “More from Asda shoppers than Waitrose.” As I contemplate cancelling my Ocado (or whatever the fuck it’s called) order Chrissy, the lady who runs the scheme says that this year people who received packages previously have now donated themselves. Previous recipients often volunteer an all. Here older folk and the students diligently box off the nosh and I determine to give them and their heartening endeavor a shout out on the show and my writhing, nervous gut begins to settle.
Chrissy explains how the Caterbury Food Bank has brought people together, not just those it feeds but those who volunteer. “It seemed like a good way to worship Christ” she says. Martin, who I am starting to gently fall in love with, observes that supermarkets profit from the enterprise as Food Bank campaigns encourage their customers to spend more there. “Do you think there’s an obligation for the state to feed people?” I ask “or room for a bit more Jesus kicking the money lenders out of the temple type stuff?”
They smile.
Many who use their facility are people that work full time and still fall short, others have suffered under “benefit sanctions”. “They’re very quick to cut off people’s benefits these days” says Martin.
“People think that Canterbury is affluent, but all around us are pockets of the hidden hungry”. The hidden hungry. “I’m gonna use that” I tell him as I scarper. He makes a very British joke about charging me as I get in the car and I tell him I nicked some jammy dodgers, and we laugh so that’s alright.
I think about the hidden hungry as I settle into my QT chair and get “mic’d up”. Farage entered to a simultaneous cheer and jeer, they cancel each other out, like bose headphones and leave an eerie silence. David Dimbleby says something about it being panto season and someone in the audience says “oh no it isn’t” and I love him for it, even though I’m pretty sure he was one of the UKip cheerers.
And a pantomime it is, well not so entertaining, no flouncing dames or doleful Buttons or rousing songs, just semi-staged tittle-tattle and bickering. The only worthwhile sentiments, be they raging or insightful come from the audience, across the camera bank. The man who brings up politicians pay rises, the man who demands I stand for parliament (so that he could not vote for me judging from his antipathy), the mad, lovely blue hair woman who swears at everyone, mostly though the woman who says “Why are we talking about immigrants? It’s a side issue, this crisis was caused by financial negligence and the subsequent bail-out”. This piece of rhetoric more valuable than anything I could’ve said, including my pound-shop Enoch Powell gag. More potent than the one thing I regret not saying because time and format did not permit it. That the people have the wisdom, not politicians, that the old paradigm is broken and will not be repaired. That the future is collectivised power. Parliamentary politics is dead, they, it’s denizens, wandering from aye to neigh from Tory to UKip know it’s dead and we know it’s dead. Farage is worse than stagnant, he is a tribute act, he is a nostalgic spasm for a Britain that never was; an infinite cricket green with no one from the colonies to raise the game, grammar schools on every corner and shamed women breastfeeding under giant parasols. The Britain of the future will be born of alliances between ordinary, self-governing people, organised locally, communicating globally. Built on principles that are found in traditions like Christianity; community, altruism, kindness, love.
In the “practice question” Farage says it’s okay to hit children “it’s good for them to be afraid” he said. There is a lot of fear about in our country at the moment and he is certainly benefitting from it. But the Britain I love is unafraid and brave. We have a laugh together, we take care of one another, we love an underdog and we unite to confront bullies. We voluntarily feed the poor when the government won’t do it. These ideas and actions that I saw in the food bank and across the camera bank are where the real power lies and this new power is the answer, no question about it.

Dear Prudence

This week at morning prayer we began to read the book of Daniel. The first half of the book is a fascinating and challenging story about people in exile at the mercy of a capricious despotic ruler. This morning I was struck by a particular verse which has stayed in my mind. To set the scene, in chapter 2 King Nebuchadnezzar has a dream and calls for his spiritual advisers, a rather motley crew of charlatans, to tell him what the dream means. To spice things up a bit the king insists that his 'wise men' not only interpret the dream but tell him what the dream is and if they can't then they will be torn limb from limb and their homes reduced to rubble. Of course the advisers can't meet the king's request and so the order goes out for all the wise men in Babylon to be put to death.

Unfortunately the king's decree includes Daniel and his mates. The chief executioner Arioch looks for Daniel and when he meets him this is Daniel's response:

Then Daniel responded with prudence and discretion to Arioch, the king’s chief executioner, who had gone out to execute the wise men of Babylon; he asked Arioch, the royal official, “Why is the decree of the king so urgent?” Arioch then explained the matter to Daniel. Dan 2:14

The words that jumped out at me were that Daniel responded 'with prudence and discretion'. Now I don't know what your response would be to being told that you are about to be torn limb from limb on the orders of a murderous tyrant but I don't think mine would be prudence and discretion. I'd have run for my life or failing that ranted and raved at the injustice of it all and probably thrown in a few accusations at God for allowing the situation to arise in the first place.

I think about some of the more irrational, unjust and, at times it seems, malicious decisions which our political leaders make, here's an example in case your wondering what I'm on about, and my gut reaction is to have a good rant about them. Thanks to social media it's quite easy to have a good rant and it's helped by the fact that our rulers don't have the power to order us to be torn limb from limb, though I suspect one or two of our MPs would quite like that option at their disposal. On reflection I find myself pondering whether prudence and discretion isn't the better response. For Daniel it opened up the way into the king's court and a place of influence for the common good.

What does it mean to respond in a prudent and discreet manner on Twitter I wonder?

Couldn't resist the sublime Siouxsie and the Banshees' version of The Beatles' Dear Prudence.

Filtering - a comment on #cnmac14

I visited Mary Arden's farm just outside Stratford-upon-Avon last week and while I was there listened to a falconer give a talk about owls accompanied by a cute Barn Owl and a rather intimidating Eagle Owl. One of the fascinating pieces of information she shared was that a Barn Owl can hear a mouse's heartbeat from 40 feet away and detect a mouse moving in the grass from 100 feet. Now gathered around the falconer and owl were about forty of us humans with hearts much bigger than a mouse's so the question was asked 'How can an owl detect the mouse with all the other noises around her in the wild?'.  The answer given was that an owl has to filter out all the extraneous sound to focus on her prey otherwise she would be driven crazy by all the other sounds she can detect.

On Saturday I was still on leave but followed a Twitter stream of comments from the Christian New Media Conference #CNMAC14 which I wasn't able to attend. I was also watching a football match while keeping an eye on Facebook and my Twitter timeline. Safari was open with several tabs including various news media outlets and sports feeds along with my blog with its attendant list of posts I follow from other bloggers. I avoided looking at my email in-box which had an 'out of office' message set up. The question I found myself reflecting on as I did all this is what stops us from going mad listening to, or seeing and reading, all this digital noise? The answer has to be filtering.

We filter out all the extraneous noise both consciously and unconsciously. I was following a hashtag Twitter stream which focused my attention on the conference, until the hashtag was hijacked for a while. I selected the digital media outlets I was interested in. My Facebook timeline is limited to a few people who I know personally in comparison to my Twitter timeline with the 873 profiles I follow. Within that timeline I can select lists of particular subjects related to my job and interests. As for the T.V., well for years I've made use of a digital recorder and watch more recorded programmes of interest than material broadcast in 'real' time. The football match I had on T.V. 'live' between Newcastle and Liverpool was boring, so I subconsciously filtered out most of what I was watching and nearly all of the vacuous nonsense being spouted by summariser Robbie Savage.

Filtering and focus are skills humans have always had to develop in order to survive and function in life, just like the Barn Owl, and that is no less true in a multi media digital age. The challenge is what we discipline ourselves to filter out and focus on. If we don't get that right then unlike the owl we'll miss out on the real meat.

optional ethics

Over the summer various ethical issues hit the headlines and became matters of public debate. One subject that particularly caught my attention was surrogacy following the case of baby Gammy, the child with Down's Syndrome born to a Thai surrogate mother and apparently rejected by his commissioning parents. I've been interested in surrogacy since I first researched it for a dissertation while studying in Oxford. My work was actually about The Warnock Report on Human Fertilization and Embryology and I used the topic of surrogacy to explore the underlying ethical assumptions behind the report.

What struck me about the recent discussions on surrogacy in the media, both mainstream and social, was the lack of ethical considerations in so much of the argument. For several days I heard and read interviews with those involved in surrogacy including: surrogates, clients, facilitators, doctors and lawyers. The practical, financial, legal and physiological aspects of surrogacy were explored in some depth. What I didn't hear was anything more than a cursory acknowledgement of the ethical questions raised by these matters. In the case of baby Gammy the issues were sharpened by the apparent rejection of the child by his potential parents because of his condition, though the full facts of that case are still to be clarified.

I listened in vain to BBC Radio 4 Today over several days while on holiday for one person to address the question of whether surrogacy was right or wrong; whether surrogacy was something we should be engaged in at all. I heard powerful emotional and unchallenged testimonies from surrogate parents and those who had become parents through surrogacy but the obvious questions were never addressed. Does surrogacy treat children as a commodity? What happens when the child acquired through surrogacy doesn't turn out the way the client parents hoped? What is the psychological impact on a surrogate child? Do we as a society view children as a gift or a right?...

My daughter took her GCSEs this summer and had to consider her A Level options. Her stronger subjects were in science along with philosophy and ethics and she had hoped to study philosophy as well as the sciences in the sixth form. However, due to timetabling issues it was impossible for her to study philosophy and physics together, much to her and our dismay. It seems crazy to me that a school would not consider philosophy an appropriate subject to study in combination with the sciences. If you want to know what happens when you separate scientific endeavour from considered philosophical and ethical reflection then you need look no further than Richard Dawkins twitter timeline.

Have we as a society lost the ability to reflect ethically on the issues confronting us today or are we simply reluctant to do so? Do we take seriously the challenge of educating our children not only to develop their knowledge and understanding of the world, but also to develop a moral framework within which that knowledge and understanding might be considered and used?

Lord Sacks may have a point.

During a debate on religious freedom in the House of Lords, the former Chief Rabbi Lord Sacks suggested that social media may play a part in inflaming conflict. His comments were made against the background of rising anti-semitism in Europe and the escalating violence between Israelis and Palestinians in Gaza. A particular comment was highlighted in reporting by Christian Today:

"In all this we recognise the power of the internet and social media to turn any local conflict into a global one. We see how the wilful confusion of religion and politics allows soluble political problems to be turned into insoluble religious ones. We witness the ignorance that allows people to mistake one strand within a faith for the whole of that faith, and we pay a high price for our fascination with extremists. It is the worst, not the best, who know how to capture the attention of a troubled and confused world."

In response to Lord Sacks' comments Vicky Beeching, a proponent of social media, made the point that social media is a neutral tool:

"It's crucial we remember social media is a tool, and like any tool it can be used for good or for harm. The tool itself must not be blamed; that points the finger in the wrong direction. We must take responsibility for what we do with that tool."

On the surface this seems a legitimate point, however, I'm not so sure. The same 'it's only a tool' argument is used by the proponents of fire arms. 'Don't blame the gun, blame the people who misuse the gun'. There are of course legitimate uses for a gun, for example in the control of vermin. Yet, as a society we recognise that there is something inherently dangerous about a gun which leads us to impose tight restrictions on its use. We also recognise different types of gun carry different risks; the air rifle popping off manually loaded pellets is different from a rapid fire machine gun capable of delivering 60 rounds per minute and one causes much more damage than the other.

Is the same not true with the means of communication? There is a difference between a comment piece written after considered reflection and published several hours later after review by an editor and a comment fired off in instant response to a news story in 140 characters via Twitter. Consider the growing list of reporters who have discovered this to be true having published a gut reaction comment on social media which they have then had to retract almost as quickly as their bosses have transferred them to another story. I am not suggesting that comment pieces published in the more traditional media cannot be ill informed, inflammatory or even dangerous; the Daily Mail remains a constant testimony that they can. What I am suggesting is that certain forms of communication by their nature may lend themselves to this problem.

Bex Lewis in the same article recognises the distinction between different media while still defending social media when she observed:

"Social media can be considered like a brick – you can build houses with it, or you can throw it through people's windows. People are doing both with it, as people have always done with every communications medium. Yes, social media allows messages to move faster globally, and those who speak loudest will often be listened to. Social media, however, gives the opportunity to speak back, particularly if people gather together."

I am a supporter and user of social media. I blog, tweet and use Facebook and yet I have a slightly ambivalent attitude towards each of these forms because of the misuse I observe and some of the damage that can be done. The most recent case has been over the 'debates' about the situation in Gaza on social media. I have become increasingly uneasy about the way Twitter interaction seems to polarise opinions and suggest you must be either for or against a particular side in the conflict. My timeline has been full of 140 character or less statements, sometimes with links, about a situation which is far more complex than can be communicated in a sentence. The ability to nuance an opinion is lost and it has been easy to read some tweets as being anti-semitic or uncritically supporting of Israel. Isn't this part of what Lord Sacks was seeking to highlight?

Update: If you want an example of a more nuanced approach on social media then check out Sometimes it's hard to write anything funny.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Error of judgement.

The news has been full of horrific images from around the world over the last couple of weeks and thanks to modern communications we are able to watch much of the reporting from these scenes in real time. One particular piece of journalism has attracted a large amount of attention and criticism. Sky News reporter Colin Brazier was reporting from the MH17 plane crash site and he began to rummage through a passenger's suitcase while speaking to camera. Part way through the reporter suddenly says 'we shouldn't be doing this... this is a mistake' and stops. However, the video went viral, in some versions without the final comment from Brazier, and the full force of social media instant rage came crashing down upon Brazier's head. Today in The Guardian Brazier explains how he came to make the error of judgement in his broadcast and in so doing gives us an insight into what many journalists are confronted with when reporting from these scenes of devastation.

The incident raises several issues for me. The first is that I am not sure why we need to have so many reports from these situations in order to understand what has happened or is happening. Did we really need reporters standing in the middle of the wreckage to convey the horror of what had occurred? Whenever a disaster, tragedy or atrocity takes place the default seems to be to send one of our well known news presenters to stand at the scene, breathlessly telling us what we already know. Are they really better placed to inform us from the field rather than from the studio? Often they are simply anchoring the programme and introducing other reports. Is this about creating a sense of tension and immediacy rather than helping us to gain insight into the events?

In Brazier's case the situation was different. He and other journalists had been allowed access into the heart of the site, where normally they would be excluded to the perimeter, as Brazier observes in his piece. We also had an insight into the shambles around the site as investigators and journalists where herded around by the Ukrainian rebels and we were able to observe the failure to secure the situation, protect the evidence and enable a proper investigation to take place. There are times when the on the ground reporting does bring a perspective that would otherwise be missing.

What is also revealed in Brazier's piece is the toll that this type of 'in the field' reporting has on the journalists. I guess we have become so familiar with seeing these reporters speaking to camera against a backdrop of mayhem, that we can forget they are human beings, struggling with their own emotions as they engage with the devastation around them. Brazier speaks of the sudden connection between what he was seeing and his own family as the context of his error of judgement:

And so during that lunchtime broadcast I stood above a pile of belongings, pointing to items strewn across the ground. Out of the corner of my eye I spotted a pink drinking flask. It looked familiar. My six-year-old daughter, Kitty, has one just like it. I bent down and, what my Twitter critics cannot hear - because of the sound quality of internet replays of the broadcast - is that I had lost it. It is a cardinal sin of broadcasting, in my book anyway, to start blubbing on-air. I fought for some self-control, not thinking all that clearly as I did so.

There are of course situations where the journalists cannot gain access. At the moment reports are coming out of Iraq that Christians in Mosul are being driven out of their homes or murdered for their faith. The story is gaining some coverage but is largely being drowned out by the situation in Gaza and the Ukraine. What is noticeable is the lack of on the ground reporting from Mosul, presumably because it is too dangerous for journalists to go anywhere near the place, and so there is little visual imagery to convey the atrocity on our televisions. Perhaps if we could see something of the tragedy that is unfolding in Mosul more attention might be given to it by news agencies, the public and our politicians, who seem to be almost silent when it comes to anything to do with Christian persecution in the Middle East.

I confess I was appalled when I saw Brazier's Sky News video clip. Looking back at my Twitter timeline I see I didn't make a comment at the time or RT anyone else's comments. though I easily could have - it only takes a click. I'm grateful to Brazier for his openness and honesty about what happened and for the reminder that those reporting the news are affected by what they encounter and can make mistakes, just like the rest of us.

Offline

Back from spending a couple of weeks in Picardie with the family. I confess I was looking forward to the holiday with some trepidation when I discovered, after booking, that our gite didn't have wifi. For the last five years I've been able to get online abroad and even in deepest Wales while on vacation. I did some research on getting a SIM card in France for my IPad but the process seemed to be both complicated and expensive and this was confirmed while I was there.

So how was I going to cope without access to social media and all the other online stuff that has become part of my everyday life. Well it turns out I was going to be absolutely fine. Not only did I not really miss it but when the occasional opportunity arose to log on thanks to free wifi in a cafe it was all rather half hearted. I quickly scanned my twitter timeline but had no real desire to tweet. I uploaded some photos so that friends and family could see what we were up to and that's about it. The only time I went out of my way to get Internet access was following my daughter's birthday so that she could check her Facebook timeline. That involved a trip to MacDonalds which I will never repeat. (Autocorrect just tried to change that last word to repent which is just about right).

So there you have it. I was wondering how I would cope without my digital umbilical chord and I can honestly say it was a surprisingly pleasant experience.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Little Britain comes to Woodham Ferrers

This is one of the most imaginative approaches to advertising for a vicar I've come across. Normally a church will produce a parish profile; a large document full of facts and figures, job description and person specification. To be honest many parish profiles should be filed under the fiction section of the local library. The only way to get a feel for a parish, the church and its people is to go there. Woodham Ferrers and Bickenacre is a parish in the same deanery where I serve. Here the church has taken a different approach and I think it will pay dividends. Initial reaction to the video has been very favourable and I hope and pray they find the right person to come and share with them in ministry and mission. This is a great example of what can be done using the resources of social media and some enthusiastic participants.

A gentle warning

h/t David Lewis

This little tweet of mine

I was getting ready for bed on Tuesday evening when I caught part of a news report that a vicar had been found dead under suspicious circumstances in the South West. Saddened, I offered up a prayer and then my wife asked if I knew who it was because the vicar had recently moved from Witham which is not far from Chelmsford. I asked if she had heard the name and Kate said it was John Suddards. My sadness tuned to shock because I had known John for quite a few years and we were colleagues on a particular diocesan working group. I tweeted a brief message about the news and then went to bed. Here’s the tweet:

Shocked and saddened to learn of the death of a friend and clergy colleague John Suddards on this evening's news bbcnews.

The next day I headed off to Norwich with the family for a few days break and on the way happened to phone the parish office to check on a couple of things. It was then that I discovered the national and regional press had been trying to get hold of me because of my tweet. I didn’t respond to any of the messages as I was on holiday and I didn’t want to discuss the matter with the press anyway. Over the rest of the week I’ve followed the story as it has gained prominence in the news but felt it unwise to comment further about the matter via social media.

So why have I put up a post about this on my blog? Simply as a reminder to me and my colleagues that everything we publish is out there, can be read by anyone and we need to be alert as to who might pick up on it.

I give thanks to God for John’s life and ministry and pray for all who mourn his death; especially his family, friends and brothers and sisters in the churches where he served so faithfully.

#Follow me

Came across this picture on Facebook.

Here’s a few of the questions it raised for me:

• How has social media impacted on our understanding of language in general and religious language in particular?
• What image of Jesus is being presented here?
• How do we communicate the Christian faith in a digital age?
• Why do I detest text speak so much IMHO?

h/t Arvind Munshi & the BigBIble project.

Has God unfollowed me?

There's a debate kicking off on Twitter as various people have either given up or decided to stop following other tweeters. The reason given is the amount of spam doing the rounds in the twittershpere. I saw this cartoon the other day and it made me smile.



h/t @FisherPeter

Chronicle – sign of the times (12)

Caught sight of this piece of publicity from our local rag the Essex Chronicle yesterday and burst out laughing.



I think I can guess one site council staff won’t be looking at or following.

Directions in a digital age

I took the dog for a walk this morning as we continued our attempt to map out the local area. I can assure my parishioners that I don't 'map' the land in the same way that Bramble does. As usual we got lost. Just an innocent left turn up an innocuous looking path and a few strides later we found ourselves disorientated. I have no sense of direction and the dog simply follows his nose, usually to the nearest message from a fellow canine.

Eventually we came to a clearing and two landmarks were visible above the trees, a church spire and a communications mast. Living in the birth place of radio there are plenty of masts around including one huge redundant construction visible from our bedroom which has a preservation order on it. The church spire is that of St. Mary's where I am Rector and the mast is in a field on the edge of the parish. So we headed for the spire and soon arrived home.


As I used the spire for our direction home I remembered that I had my mobile phone with me and I could easily have conjured up a map which would have displayed my current position and given me directions home. It got me thinking about the changes and challenges facing the church in the digital age.

For generations the church spire has been the most visible landmark in the area, a symbol of permanence and continuity in a rapidly changing world. Now the communications mast rivals it as a marker on the landscape. In some places churches have allowed a mobile phone mast to be sited on the spire or tower, usually for financial reasons, while others have steadfastly refused to succumb to the inducements of the communications companies. I'm not sure what I think about this, though I understand the financial pressures facing some congregations that have influenced their decision.

However, I am convinced of one thing; the church cannot afford to leave the digital world outside the Christian community. It is essential for the church's mission and ministry that we embrace the digital world of communications and social media if we are to engage with the realities of our age.

I'm writing this blog from my iPad, a wonderful gift from my friends and colleagues in the diocese when I left my lay education and training role a couple of months ago. This little marvel has 3G and wifi, applications for just about everything I need in terms of running my office and a plethora of tools and resources including the Bible and various liturgies. It doesn't replace key aspects of my role like listening, praying and speaking with people face to face but it does enhance a lot of what I do.

So my question is this: Are we going to keep the digital world at arms length, on the margins of our life and witness, like the mast on the edge of the parish? Or are we going to embrace the digital realities of the world we live in both offline and online; placing the church and the Gospel we proclaim at it's centre, not uncritically but with Spirit led discernment and wisdom?


- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

Phone box or mobile?

There was a very interesting observation made at a church leadership conference last week which I picked up via a re-tweet from Pete Phillips on Twitter:

We are standing at the phone kiosk in the age of the mobile phone.

This powerful image has been buzzing round my head for the last few days and triggering all sorts of thoughts. I realise that the image relates to the church’s relationship with modernity and post modernity, however, one thing in particular occurs to me and it is linked in with the season of Lent. In the lead up to Ash Wednesday I noticed several people on both Twitter and Facebook saying they would be giving up using these social media networks for Lent. The question that this raises for me is:

Do we still regard social media networks as optional, a luxury and an indulgence even, or are they an essential aspect of communication and community in the culture we inhabit?

This is a serious question because my impression is that many in the church still regard forms of digital communication as an add on, something extra that can be engaged with or not as a matter of personal preference.  I am amazed at how many people regard me as an oddity as a blogging, tweeting member of the clergy. I’ve lost count of the times I’ve had to preface comments in a meeting with an explanation of the main forums for social networking because people have that blank expression of incomprehension on their faces.

I understand why some are still suspicious of social media networks and forms of digital communication. I appreciate the reasons why some have decided to disengage for a period of time. Blogging can become an obsession; more about the blogger and their status, influence and statistics, than about what is being communicated or discussed. Twitter can come across as another form of displacement activity. There is a danger that Facebook looks like any other forum for frittering time away, gossiping and, sadly, even cruel bullying. I recognise that some people can become so caught up in their online relationships that they are in danger of ignoring those they are in physical community with, including family and friends.

Yet, these criticisms are not about the medium, they are about the uses to which these networks are put by the user. Why have people not considered giving up speaking, listening, reading and writing for forty days? Are the only valid forms of enrichment and refreshment during Lent verbal face to face contact and pre internet forms of communication and cultural expression? The questions sound flippant but they are sincere.

The Social Network

Not since Closer have I seen a film with such an unpleasant cast of characters, only this time the film was worth watching.

The Social Network recounts the origins of Facebook and the legal wrangles over who invented and contributed to developing the social media phenomenon. The genius of Aaron Sorkin’s script and David Fincher’s direction is that such an obnoxious group of individuals could make compelling viewing. The story of Facebook is recounted in a non-linear montage of scenes mainly focusing on legal depositions between the protagonists. This could have been both confusing and boring, however, no one makes people talking at breakneck speed in small rooms more interesting than Sorkin. We are taken into the world of Facebook from three different perspectives and the ambiguities about who is telling the truth and what really went on are never resolved and the viewer is left to draw their own conclusions.

The central performances from Jesse Eisenberg as Mark Zuckerberg and Andrew Garfield playing his best (only) friend Eduardo Saverin are convincing and the recognition coming the way of the actors is well deserved. Justin Timberlake is impressive with his portrayal of Sean Parker, founder of Napster, and he commits wholeheartedly to making Parker as unpleasant as possible. The supporting actors are all up to the mark and Armie Hammer as the Winklevoss twins, who claimed Zuckerberg had stolen their idea, captures a sense of arrogant entitlement perfectly. All of this simply reinforces feelings of admiration and disgust that such a group of individuals could have made themselves so unimaginably wealthy.

At the end of a very enjoyable couple of hours I was left with one overriding thought that we forget at our peril. Everyone involved in Facebook is looking for the best way to make the product as successful and ubiquitous as possible. So those of us who complain when Facebook changes privacy settings, location information or links to other companies, products and services need to remember that these guys aren’t in it to serve our interests. Zuckerberg and co. aren’t interested in creating a social network, they are interested in making Facebook the biggest beast in the digital jungle and the message of the film is that they are prepared to do whatever it takes to achieve that end.

Now I’m off to double check those privacy settings on my Facebook profile.

Tweet If You Heart Jesus

A few weeks ago my blog post on the Pope and the digital age was picked up by Religion Dispatches thanks to Dr Elizabeth Drescher. In checking out Elizabeth’s work I was interested to learn that she has written a book called Tweet If You ♥Jesus. The book is published later this year and the blurb describes it in the following terms:

From an emerging scholar and writer on contemporary spirituality comes a fascinating exploration of new social media and religion that connects ancient and medieval wisdom to the digitally-integrated practice of faith by believers and seekers today. In Elizabeth Drescher’s Tweet If You ♥Jesus, ministry leaders will learn how changes in everyday communication have begun to reshape how we relate to one another, how we form and sustain communities, and what that means for churches and other religious organizations that hope to enrich and extend their service and become more relevant in the world today.

I was particularly interested in some of the quotes from the book which reflect on the opportunities and challenges afforded the church by social media.

The Church is at a critical juncture as it attempts to respond to dramatic cultural changes related to new mobile, digital social media. Some of those changes are wonderfully liberating, inviting creative involvement in the practice of faith and the nurturing of community by believers and seekers of all stripes around the globe. Others, such as the restructuring of concepts of privacy, self-presentation, and relationship that seem to undermine notions of interpersonal, communal, and spiritual intimacy that are at the heart of much Christian practice, feel more troubling. Threatening, even.

I like the suggestion that a way forward may include drawing on the riches of the Christian tradition, particularly the practices of religious communities in relation to the emerging social networks.

New digital communication practices provide the opportunity to share the riches of ancient and medieval Christian traditions that ground much of mainline religious practice while also opening our churches to the diverse spiritual perspectives of the many believers and seekers who, while they may not wear an Episcopalian or Lutheran or Presbyterian badge on their sleeves, are nonetheless engaged by religious questions as they respond to the challenges of life in the wired world today.

There is also challenge in this book and a timely warning for ministers who want to embrace the possibilities of the new forms of communication and interaction.

If we get annoyed when the Facebook advertising automatons don't know us well enough, imagine how it feels when our priest or pastor keeps posting or tweeting stuff that betrays no understanding of who we are or who we hope to be.

All good thought provoking material and I look forward to reading more when the book is published. I’ll finish with a final quote which has got me thinking and I look forward to engaging with the thesis in more depth.

The counter-intuitive reality is that without digital social media, it would be impossible…for leaders in ministry to so richly witness to the significance of face-to-face relationship and grounded spiritual presence.

Benedict getting digital

Apparently this is the 45th World Day of Social Communications and Pope Benedict XVI has issued his message Truth, Proclamation and Authenticity of Life in the Digital Age.
It is difficult to read the statement online as I have an aversion to Times New Roman type face on a light brown speckled background. It doesn’t help that I have a 22inch wide screen monitor that makes dense paragraphs of text almost impenetrable. The language of the message is also rather stilted but that may be more to do with the translation.

Nevertheless, the message has some interesting and challenging points to make and is very upbeat. Here is what the Pope says about the opportunities that digital media makes possible.

The new technologies are not only changing the way we communicate, but communication itself, so much so that it could be said that we are living through a period of vast cultural transformation. This means of spreading information and knowledge is giving birth to a new way of learning and thinking, with unprecedented opportunities for establishing relationships and building fellowship.

I’m not sure how ‘new’ these technologies are as they’ve been around for quite a while. I guess viewed from the ancient confines of the Vatican new is a relative term.

The Pope goes on to remind his readers that the medium is there to serve humanity not the other way round.

As with every other fruit of human ingenuity, the new communications technologies must be placed at the service of the integral good of the individual and of the whole of humanity. If used wisely, they can contribute to the satisfaction of the desire for meaning, truth and unity which remain the most profound aspirations of each human being.

There are several mentions of what are perceived to be problems with digital communication.

The clear distinction between the producer and consumer of information is relativized and communication appears not only as an exchange of data, but also as a form of sharing. This dynamic has contributed to a new appreciation of communication itself, which is seen first of all as dialogue, exchange, solidarity and the creation of positive relations. On the other hand, this is contrasted with the limits typical of digital communication: the one-sidedness of the interaction, the tendency to communicate only some parts of one’s interior world, the risk of constructing a false image of oneself, which can become a form of self-indulgence.

Entering cyberspace can be a sign of an authentic search for personal encounters with others, provided that attention is paid to avoiding dangers such as enclosing oneself in a sort of parallel existence, or excessive exposure to the virtual world. In the search for sharing, for "friends", there is the challenge to be authentic and faithful, and not give in to the illusion of constructing an artificial public profile for oneself.

I don’t think Benedict is right to say that digital communication is a one-sided interaction; it can be but it does not need to be. I do agree that there is the danger of presenting a false image of oneself. He also has a challenging question which deserves attention for Christians engaging with social media.

Who is my "neighbour" in this new world? Does the danger exist that we may be less present to those whom we encounter in our everyday life? Is there is a risk of being more distracted because our attention is fragmented and absorbed in a world "other" than the one in which we live? Do we have time to reflect critically on our choices and to foster human relationships which are truly deep and lasting? It is important always to remember that virtual contact cannot and must not take the place of direct human contact with people at every level of our lives.

I was interested in the Pope’s suggestion that there is a distinctively Christian way of maintaining an online presence.

It follows that there exists a Christian way of being present in the digital world: this takes the form of a communication which is honest and open, responsible and respectful of others. To proclaim the Gospel through the new media means not only to insert expressly religious content into different media platforms, but also to witness consistently, in one’s own digital profile and in the way one communicates choices, preferences and judgements that are fully consistent with the Gospel, even when it is not spoken of specifically. Furthermore, it is also true in the digital world that a message cannot be proclaimed without a consistent witness on the part of the one who proclaims it. In these new circumstances and with these new forms of expression, Christian are once again called to offer a response to anyone who asks for a reason for the hope that is within them (cf. 1 Pet 3:15).

What most appealed to me in the message was the acknowledgement that the digital world is part of human life and therefore needs to be embraced. This is a very affirming observation for those of us wanting to take engagement seriously.

I would like then to invite Christians, confidently and with an informed and responsible creativity, to join the network of relationships which the digital era has made possible. This is not simply to satisfy the desire to be present, but because this network is an integral part of human life. The web is contributing to the development of new and more complex intellectual and spiritual horizons, new forms of shared awareness. In this field too we are called to proclaim our faith that Christ is God, the Saviour of humanity and of history, the one in whom all things find their fulfilment (cf. Eph 1:10).

And there is a reminder that in this area, as in all aspects of human activity, how we engage is itself an important witness to the Gospel we seek to proclaim.

The proclamation of the Gospel requires a communication which is at once respectful and sensitive, which stimulates the heart and moves the conscience; one which reflects the example of the risen Jesus when he joined the disciples on the way to Emmaus (cf. Lk 24:13-35). By his approach to them, his dialogue with them, his way of gently drawing forth what was in their heart, they were led gradually to an understanding of the mystery.

One of my reservations about the Pope’s take on this subject is his assumption that digital communication and social media are primarily the preserve of the young. Perhaps his emphasis is dictated by his focus on the upcoming World Youth Day in Madrid. I hope it isn’t a reflection of an ignorance in the corridors of the Vatican that people of all ages are engaging in these networks. However, I want to be positive about the statement and finish with the Pope’s concluding remarks.

In the final analysis, the truth of Christ is the full and authentic response to that human desire for relationship, communion and meaning which is reflected in the immense popularity of social networks. Believers who bear witness to their most profound convictions greatly help prevent the web from becoming an instrument which depersonalizes people, attempts to manipulate them emotionally or allows those who are powerful to monopolize the opinions of others. On the contrary, believers encourage everyone to keep alive the eternal human questions which testify to our desire for transcendence and our longing for authentic forms of life, truly worthy of being lived. It is precisely this uniquely human spiritual yearning which inspires our quest for truth and for communion and which impels us to communicate with integrity and honesty.

The perils of Twitter

This made me smile. With thanks to Sue Diplock.

But for a more serious reflection check out this from Dave Walker.