Carl Trueman, whose crankiness is unparalleled, but whose book “The Rise and Triumph of the Modern Self” has shaped my understanding of the current social imaginary in a way few other books have, offers his opening essay at WORLD—Al Mohler’s new online magazine. And while this previous sentence is rather long, like something Alistair Roberts would write, I still find it somewhat compulsively helpful as a book recommendation. But enough about me, as a self, rising and triumphing over stuff.

The real purpose of this short monologue is to summarize Trueman’s good work in his essay, which echoed some of the themes from his excellent book (I have taken some themes in his book to develop two upcoming essays on individualism, which should find publication fairly soon). Trueman focuses his attention on the real threat of the tech revolution. Though the article was written a few days ago, it has become even more pertinent as a synopsis of things since yesterday’s Facebook apocalypse. The good thing is that while the world burned for a few hours, I had the chance to read some C.S. Lewis and was reminded that he would never have survived this age. He would have ridiculed us for being so puny in our thoughts and so trivial in our interests.

I have tried to navigate this season with lots of thoughts and words, attempting to build a framework for thinking about Church and family life and our engagement with the g’ubament. Still, that relationship is so intertwined that sometimes I believe Trueman’s pessimism is warranted. Technology is the assistant to the regional manager, and we are all Michael Scotts trying to rationalize how to do life with an obnoxious servant who is always on our case. And speaking of amillennial pessimists, Trueman summarizes quite well the purpose of technology in our universe:

“It mediates reality to us, and in doing so, it reshapes how we imagine the world and our place within it.”

We must be in some myopic state if we can’t see how these things shape our children and even our own lives. If COVID taught us anything is that we were ripe to abandon bodily community, bodily worship, and bodily health. We were re-shaped by the nature of technology while we argued that technology is neutral. We pornographied ourselves to death, and we failed to love our basic commitments.

I agree with Trueman that this monologue is not some “Luddite polemic against technological change” and that the question of technology is ultimately one of stewardship. But since that’s the case, can we all agree that we are terrible stewards? We have allowed technology to rule over us, and we have complied with “simplistic soundbites” to fuel its thirst for power.

I am left as Trueman with few answers, except that “…being aware of the problem is a start” and giving my teenage daughter an Instagram account is stupid and allowing them to navigate these technological waters when the vast amount of experienced Christians can’t get through one day without some techy convulsion after an hour or two of delay is to expect the obvious.

Trueman agrees that government intervention on big tech is not the answer, and I go a step further–as usual–to assert that government intervention is the problem if we think that Biden can flirt with Zuckerburg without producing some catastrophic byproduct of their union. We can’t articulate a technological philosophy via statist intervention. We need to work these things out like a sweet family, which is to say we will have some tough conversations in the days and weeks ahead about what this whole endeavor has done to our imagination.

But the last piece of wisdom from Captain Cranky Cranks is a real fine one which I have articulated but never so eloquently:

“To be human is to be present with and for others—as anyone who has ever been at the bedside of a dying loved one knows. No app is adequate in that context.”

Perhaps the first Christian answer to tech’s triumph over the self is to kiss your kids and drink your coffee black, to love to your wife and turn off the cell after dinner.

Read more

The COVID death rate for humans from 0-17 years is .001%, according to the CDC. There have been about 400 COVID-related deaths in that age group in the entirety of this era. Unfortunately, the majority of these cases happened with children with various underlying medical conditions. Nevertheless, that number is so minuscule in relation to other diseases, that any comparison is therefore laughable.

Now that we are all agreed, let’s make another salient point: children are used as tools for any nefarious system that wishes to institute fear as a national currency. Whether the numbers are on their side is irrelevant. The point is that no crisis can be wasted when the potential gain is significant. And there are no better prime candidates than an age group that presents themselves as innocent bystanders. They become icons for a greater cause, even though the cause is filled with apocalyptic footnotes. But enough about Greta Thunberg.

Let’s move to a greater point still. The point is that if you consolidate all your worries into one big virus, then every other worry can dissipate. In short, if the entire ecosystem of individual attention can be summarized in COVIDom, then any system can use that data to communicate whatever ideology, philosophy, and rhetoric (Col. 2:8).

The strategy is to put away distracting items and convey a message through one medium rather than a thousand fragments. Therefore, we don’t illuminate the world on Global Warming as an isolated issue, or statist overreach, or LGBTQ agendas–nay; instead, we communicate all these ideas through the lens of COVID. We use suffering children as means to portray a vision that is grander for society.

The idea from now on will be to make the COVID conversation through its many re-creations and variations more and more central to the economic, political, and sociological discourses. After all, if we believe COVID mutations are subtle, contagious, and pernicious, we can begin to use it as a presupposition for all monologues on the world stage.

When we talk about epistemic questions, we–Van Tilian aficionados–talk about the significance of starting with the right presupposition. Everyone has it, whether it be reason or the Koran. We all have a way of looking at the world. What I am arguing is that COVID has become the lens of expectation and conversation. It has become the opening scene of life in Shakespearean proportion. To COVID or not to COVID is more than a question, but the answer to many disputes.

My proposal is we overturn this desire for ultimacy in worldview thinking. We must change the conversation into other ultimate starting points: Scriptures, Feasts, Hymns, and more Scriptures. Forsake the temptation to derive courage and strength from the attempt at starting life again from a separate worldview, even if little children are manipulatively used as memes for their cause.

Read more

Back in the blessed year of our Lord Twenty-twenty, when the orange man led the mutiny against leftism one tweet at a time, life was quite tolerable for Christians who gave a dram about ethical currency. Back then, I wrote:

“If we cannot get our act together during COVID under a relatively pro-liberty, pro-church president, how many jumping jacks will we be willing to do under a Biden presidency if the next tempest rises? How much longer will we be willing to keep our churches closed? How much more will we be willing to subscribe to government mailing lists? How much more will we be willing to spread fear as a virtue? How much more will we be willing to concede?”

As Yoda would say, “Concede we have.” But we have conceded ground quicker than even I expected and evangelical Christians are so eager to taste the Kool-Aid of concession that they drank it straight. And drinking anything straight is quite a challenge for the Charles Finney generation.

So, as we move on we must get the house in order. And by house, I mean the literal oikos, and not some metaphysical one, which we will touch on in a later post. But for now, let’s begin our focus on the living room rules that should guide our revolution:

If Jesus is Lord, then the coffee table is under his domain. I have talked so much about hospitality over the years that if you poke me I’d bleed mash potatoes. That is because the entire endeavor has eternal consequences and hospitable people will one day rule the world. But my point is a bit more nuanced, if I may.

Read more