theo|digital

So, I’m still slowly adding pieces of theo|digital. A copy of my thesis?  Yeah, still not here.  I keep putting off the step of formatting for web and posting it, despite the repeated requests.  But today I decided it would be fun to take a quick hack at the “what is media ecology?” page.  This probably isn’t the most carefully edited definition of media ecology–more like the explanation I’d give you off the top of my head.  But it’s not a bad start from someone trying to understand it.

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What is Media Ecology?

The world that God created understandably troubles us today. … Some are inclined to blame our present woes on technology. Yet there are paradoxes here. Technology is artificial, but for a human being there is nothing more natural than to be artificial.

Walter Ong  (Faith and Contexts, Vol 1, 1:7.)

Media ecology is the study of communication technologies as cultural environments. If that doesn’t make your heart race (like me), then don’t worry: there’s still hope. In the infancy of the digital information age, it’s hard to imagine a field of study that’s more important ; or that can better explain why the new edition of the iPhone is messing with our minds.

Come on, we all know its messing with our minds.

Steve Jobs aside, there are some names to know. We’ll start with three.

The first is Neil Postman. The New York University professor was the first to create a doctoral program in “media ecology”– at New York University in 1970. The term had biology class in mind: think of that round glass petri dish you used to grow bacteria. The “medium” was the substance placed in the dish to grow the “culture.” In this case, it’d be like eye-dropping mini iPhones (iDropping – ha) into a dish of popular culture, and seeing what grows. (jump to the rest…)

A friend of mine recently pointed me to this YouTube hosted clip of news-anchor Ted Koppel in the 1980s.  Ted laments that the modern ability to archive news footage is creating mountains of information that are unsorted and overwhelming. “Perhaps the greatest need we have is for a body of people who will sift from that information—sort of winnow it down—so we have something in a form of order.”

It’s amazing to see Koppel’s foresight in the 80s on this. In my unpublished thesis, I’ve argued that “filtering” is the key to information space, and that this filtering will not be done by authoritative gateways (e.g. librarian and editors, as Koppel suggests), but by the “community” itself (e.g. Facebook).  Getting even crazier, I went on to compare the church to a “filtering community,” suggesting that the church itself could (will?) become the relational arbiter in a sea of data.

Identity will be defined by what we see.  What we can find.  What we deem as important compared to millions of other unimportant things.  Existence will be defined by visibility.  Does it appear through the filter?

A new meaning for the church charged with “you are a light of the world.”

I’m gonna admit, I’m finding myself a little bit nerdy-excited about the movie that traces Mark Zuckerberg and the founding of Facebook at Harvard. Its subject would be enough for me, but the story-telling appears human and dark, with some colorings of a modern-day Dead Poet’s Society + outlines of John Grisham. Nice.

And most of all, as art begins to tell stories with social media woven through them, it will give us the perspective to start to lay aside basic myths (e.g. “online creates a fake virtual community”), and start to understand what’s really occurring. The artists, McLuhan always said, are the only ones who can see it when it’s happening. Everyone else either pays attention to them, or must wait until it becomes history.

So here’s the problem:  I’ve moved to Orlando, Florida.  I was a campus minister for eight years, I have a seminary degree, and now am a manager in a Christian missions agency that serves missional leaders throughout the US.  But I don’t have a local body of believers to call my own—to serve or lead or embody redemption with.  And the biggest barrier to me finding one?  Probably myself.   Part 1, Part 2, Part 3.

Surprise. I’m Leading a Small Group

Wow.  Well, a couple weeks ago I showed up at Summit Church to hear my new friend Alistair Sterne speak. The church is a large one: almost 3,000 people attending services.  And while it has awesome indie-professional worship music and a gifted communicator, it’s faux-perfect veneer brushes up roughly against my “ideal missional church” list (especially when I’m in a snooty mood).

Alistair did great speaking, but I was caught off guard by them announcing “group night.”  It’s a once-a-quarter thing they do that gives an opportunity to form an all new small group, right with the people standing there in the room.  I had been contemplating going to one of these, but had still been pretty unsure I wanted to commit to Summit. I decided to stay and at least see what it was like—mostly to hear them talk about their small group theology/system.

I walked out as a small group leader.

Yeah, that was a surprise. It’s just that the method they use is a little chaotic. They stake big signs around the room announcing Orlando locations, and people gather awkwardly to try to start conversations with strangers, attempting not only to get past the “name and what do you do?” stage, but straight into the “you want to be in a group?”  “you want to talk about life? “you want to talk about schedules (this one is particularly difficult: find 10 people who KNOW each other real well to agree on a ‘good night’ for something) “you want to elect a leader? (we’ve already forgotten names, but I’m sure we can get a leader… J)”

That said, I’m guessing what often happens is what happened to me: I know I can step up and help; that I can step into a group conversation and bring convergence.  I’ve been doing this for a long time (probably others in the room, too), and I’ve gotta think all those people feel pressed to step up or risk a weirdo group meltdown… so they do.

And so I did.

And honestly, I sound a little disconcerted, but not overly negative. The people I met who are looking for a group seemed genuine and interesting and I will look forward to getting to know them.  I will just have to be honest that while I like Summit Church… I really hadn’t decided to land there.  Can I really be excited about a church that has four services every Sunday and its own iPhone app?

Here’s how it will work: this really is only an 8 week commitment.  Summit asks a group to start out and “try things out” for 2 months, and then after that sorta lock-in.  This will give me a chance to pray and evaluate, just like everybody else in the group, and see if God has me here for the time being.

Why “compromise” on my church values? Well…  the reality is that me sitting at home, uncommitted and ungiving and unengaged, isn’t the way I want to live.

I’ve often counseled college students that its hard to reflect on life while standing still.  Waiting to see what career God will drive us towards, for instance, is difficult when we’re pulled off to the side of the road, just trying to Think our way there.  Typically, cars steer better when they’re moving; its better to merge into traffic while we discover where we’re going.  Maybe this is God is doing with me.  Getting me to hit the gas pedal, even if I don’t know the destination.

So I’m gonna help lead a group for a while. On the way, I’ll still be reflecting on the church selection process.  This is just a chance to start rolling again.