About every decade I have a personal scavenger hunt; I try to find where I left my old copy of C. S. Lewis' book, The Screwtape Letters. The first time I read it was shortly after buying it during a high school discipleship group (late 70's); it was a little spooky, but mainly weird and less than relevant.
In college I read it and it was too relevant, and not weird enough, which was spooky. As a youth pastor fresh out of seminary, Lewis' work was entertaining but theologically tenuous... I was scary!
As a middle-aged, motorscooter-riding science teacher in a laptop-required high school, married to a technophilic graphic Artist, I'm looking again for my copy... I think I'm almost mature enough to appreciate it now! Somewhere buried in a box of books, abruptly translocated with the best intentions of painting the book shelves, is my old copy of the Letters. I don't remember too many of the specifics of the dialog between the demons, Uncle Screwtape and his apprentice, Wormwood, but I do remember one particular section of Lewis' fiction-- where Wormwood is told of the greatest weapon useful in defeating God's Kingdom. Distraction.
Yesterday I escorted the Artist to several computer stores where she was looking for various gizmos to upgrade her computer and integrate her new Mac. I'm already attention-deficit, but you put me in a store of plasma screens showing "Happy Feet" or "Planet Earth", I'm doomed to a standing coma, waiting for my cellphone (set to 'stun') to jumpstart my reentry into life as I left it a few minutes (hours) ago, dialed in by the Artist, who has now cleared the register and headed toward the door.
We are so absorbed by our technologies in today's world that we become oblivious to the world around us. We roll up our tinted windows of our SUVs, plug in the IPod, crank the AC and pick up the cell phone... and that's just to back down the driveway toward some tall guy on a scooter. (smile). Distracted.
It's almost entertaining to see students feverishly "taking notes" during lecture, or perhaps entering "data" into an ExCel spreadsheet, except when I call on them, they respond as if they just got the vibrating/loud cellphone call in the plasma screen section of CompUSA... blankly blinking at me as if I just queried them in Swahili. Surely they weren't gaming or checking MySpace? Distracted.
Now for those who are adequately ruffled because of where this is going, especially in light of the title, be at ease... I will not curse your gods by name--if I did, you might show me my own hypocrisy. Instead I will invite you to join me in considering what little time we have left in a day. I will not accuse, but simply confess... I traded my quiet time with God tonight for a football game.
Good night. Jim Kelley
(originally written Sept.30, 2007)
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3 comments:
If you work for 8 hours, sleep for 8 hours, what do you with the other 8?
I dunno; I've never really worked only 8 hours in my adult life,... volunteer somewhere?
I think sometimes I enjoy the distraction a bit too much, and get so used to it that when it comes to being real with myself and God I find it uncomfortable.... that can't be good.
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