On Community
I grew up in a tiny, isolated town in the mountains.
The big cities were as far away as the moon and accessible only by AM radio and then, only at night.
The news came from the two channels available on the TV and via the efforts of Mrs. Homer who drove the newspaper up the mountain every day, weather permitting.
The mail was delivered by Mr. Hatfield, who knew I’d be waiting by the road every Wednesday to receive the week old information from “The Sporting News” with the anticipation and wonder of Moses receiving the tablets from God.
Everyone I knew lived where I did.
If someone moved away, you wrote them a letter to stay in touch if you had liked them…if you didn’t, they were simply gone.
The sheriff came up to visit once a week, but the law was administered by the townsfolk.
As a result, we had little crime.
It was a community…we shared two common stores, one hardware store (which was also the liquor store and where you bought your hunting license) one tiny post office, one tiny school, and one cafe and tavern.
We also shared our struggles and joys…in real life in real time.
We shared our salmon and produce, we cared for our sick and everyone raised everybody’s kids.
Getting along was not an option…it was too hard to avoid people you may be in conflict with.
We learned tolerance and forgiveness and we lived together (mostly) in peace.
Today, we boast about how the internet has shrunk the world and created a sense of global community.
In reality, it has simply digitized people the way we digitize photos and music.
The only common ground we have is an electronic pipeline that allows us to communicate with whoever we choose.
We are “friends” with gravatars…until they offend us, then we “unfriend” the gravatar and and speak evil of it to as many people as will “follow” us.
There is no need for tolerance or forgiveness because flesh and blood is now nothing more than a moniker that types.
We have instant news and a constant fire hose of information, but we have little understanding and less compassion.
We don’t have to get along, we don’t have to see the pain we cause another real person…we just damn the profile pic and click on to the next image.
“Community” has been replaced by “clique” and even the cliques divide and go to war with the gravatars that used to be “friends”.
We are no longer people,we are images on a screen and often, targets in a video game that has real consequences.
We shoot to kill, often in the name of Jesus.
That’s not community.
That’s hell.
God forgive me for what I’ve done to help make it that way.
I want to go home.
My apologies for the closed comments today. I don’t have what it takes to deal with them this morning. My screen isn’t providing protection for my soul and my mouse is out of ammo.
See you soon.
I wanna go home with you!
Michael,
I’m with you on this one. As with all things, the internet and the information age can be a great blessing, or if we’re not careful, it can strip us of our humanity by degrees and increments.
Basically you are my spiritual family, I dont go to church for two reasons, one I dont want to hurt people and two because I hold the aberrant “heretical” views I do I dont want to inflict my issues on a faith community. I have gone to some of the “new age” churches, I love the people and the collective discussion but I just dont believe it and I dont want to do that to them either.
So I am asking for prayer, I live in a mobile home park, it is being sold, which would be great for me as I would get paid for the houses worth, I could pay off my debt and move on. But there are many elderly people here and I just cant leave it at that. There are many who are very knowledgeable in many areas and we have a very strong home owners group. I am good at the politics, being at the job I am I have had to advocate for resources for over 30 years so I have alot of experience in the political ring. The calls the strategic meetings, calling staff, getting to know the land so to speak. My mind wants to walk away my heart and soul wants to stay and fight. I have been successful in three or four other political issues that were very big deals. My prayer, this is extremely tiring, work weeks can go past 110 hrs between work, meetings, research, writing letters, public outreach, precinct walking, public meetings, speaking, target populations, public protests, interacting with law enforcement during said protests, being a pain in the backside with a smile and so on.
The last time I did this it was to help save the program I work at, it almost killed me, but it was a hill worth dying on. The next thing is my sight is going, that was expected, I can still drive safely but that will change. That is not a boohoo just a fact. Thanks brian
Wanted to give you a view, I might attend 7+ meetings like this per week in a “blitz” Im the somewhat fat guy in the blue.
http://sanjose.granicus.com/MediaPlayer.php?view_id=51&clip_id=7189
Go to 6hr 41 seconds to see me. This goes on and on and on, but I think its worth it. I was not at the top of my game, I never take notes or papers with me and my one or two minute refrains are proceeded by massive email and phone calls but the public comments are key to being heard. Offered for some perspective.
I looked for you, brian. I skipped around most of the video and didn’t see you. There is a woman speaking at 6hr 41 seconds.
An excellent reflection by Anne Lamott
https://www.facebook.com/AnneLamott/posts/466175203512128
g, I have a friend who turned 60 today and I asked him how it was! I’ll be hitting the magic number in June and I could relate to some of what Anne shared. Made my day a bit brighter.
erunner,
Glad you are blessed!