Time, Technology and Newer Rites of Grace
There is a line in Saint Thomas Aquinas’ ‘Pange Lingua Gloriosi’ that holds me captive. In the fifth stanza, his Latin composition goes ...
‘Novo cedat rítui: Præstet fides suppleméntum, Sénsuum deféctui’ –
Newer rites of grace prevail: faith for all defects supplying, when the feeble
senses fail.
Newer rites of grace
prevail – wow. What a lovely way of enlivening fresh hope to infuse our spirits.
To be honest, I tend to see rituals as conveying legalistic fervour. But far
beyond my ignorance (and from evidenced centuries), they hold dear profundities
for wearied souls. Perhaps such practices could offer us a precious pathway to
outlast this long-drawn COVID-19 spell, and trials down the road.
And rituals of grace do sound inviting ... full of
divine generosity. In a world of time-poverty and technological overwhelm,
tapping into the empowerment of such grace is critical if I am to stay the
course towards ‘winning the prize for which God has called us heavenward in
Christ Jesus’ (Phil 3:14).
Systemic distraction – a sign of our times
In my mind, we are battling
present-day crisis when it comes to distractions.
Biology defines the term systemic as spread of a drug or disease
reaching all parts of a body or plant. This concept is also found in social
sciences where the pervasiveness of risks in finance are no longer seen in
parts, but connected across the entire whole of systems.
To consider well our
present state of systemic distraction, perhaps a longer pause is needed here
... contemplating the nature and evolution of ways of life shaped by time and
technology. Keen senses will intuit progressive spiritual diminishment along
the way.
From monastery bells to clocks, smartphones, and the masquerade of ‘second-lives’
Tracing back history - after bells, clocks were invented by monks as a reminder to pray. But ‘while earliest clocks had only an hour hand, the minute hand was added as time became more precious - and then a sweeping second hand, which moved in endless circles ... seconds were divided by the ‘stopwatch’, first into tenths and then into hundreds. Ultimately, the computer provided a further division of time beyond human perception – the nano-second, one billionth of a second.’ (Robinson, Godbey)
“It is a pity we have stripped so many
walls of their crucifixes and put so many clocks in their place. We are surely
more punctual than our ancestors, but we are spiritually poorer. Contemplating
a crucifix, many of our forebears had a different idea of how to make use of
time. A crucifix may not tell the hour, but it offers crucial advice about what
to do with the moment we are living in”, Jim
Forest
Fast forward a couple centuries and several industrial revolutions - another time sequence emerges in our modernised engagements. From the internet and e-mails, to Facebook, Insta, LinkedIN, Twitter and TikTok – all acting in concert to form deeper levels of attention deficit within us. From the chunky ‘Motorola’ portable phone - being able to take calls outside the ‘formal’ office, to smartphones that are car-centric (navigation, spotify/ podcasts), toilet-accompanying, and bedside 24/7-connecting (its hard to imagine that our smartphones have more computing power than the mainframe computer NASA used to send astronauts to the moon in the 1960s. And now we have computers that harness quantum mechanics, are able to do 3-D printing, and store data that live in 'clouds'). Now, fitness watches ‘guide’ our sleeping patterns and exercise orientation. For the latter, step-counts and distance become focal in place of birdsong, budding flowers and dancing trees.
Not only that, our vision
(literally) is at risk of being usurped by headsets transporting us to parallel
digital worlds. One of the most trending words this year is ‘meta-verse’ (a
collection of shared online worlds in which the physical, augmented and virtual
reality converge). Here, virtual assets are being traded via crypto-currencies
through Non-Fungible Tokens (NFTs). In conversation, my colleague reminds me
about ‘Second Life’ – an online virtual world where many have chosen the path
of anchoring their identities as Avatars in digital communities. In this realm,
reality is mimicked as daily life unfolds. Utterly in-conceivable, once we care
enough to step back and slowly take it all in.
Life as a modern monastic and eccentric
“What concerns or distresses one about
technology is its tendency to destroy or displace things and practices that
grace and orient our lives”, Albert
Borgmann, technology philosopher
‘Living
into Focus – Choosing What Matters in an Age of Distractions’ by
Arthur Boers is a fantastic read for those of us yearning for Godly wisdom in
this spiritual tussle of time, technology and faith priorities.
There, I discovered that
the word focus had origins in the Latin word for ‘hearth’. This was a
fireplace/ woodstove, serving as comfort and survival for many living abroad in
harsh climates. More than that, it represented a central gathering place of
families, huddled together over life-giving interactions – board games,
storytelling, extended hospitality, and the like. Here comes the striking
parallel. Granted that we’re in Malaysian climate, nonetheless such centres have
now taken the form of x plus-inched TVs pivoting our abodes. And it commands
presence farther and farther away from the ‘human-engaging’ flow of life
(disclaimer: we have a huge-ish TV in the middle of our living hall, and my 5
year-old boy relishes his iPad cartoons
over meals).
Another epiphany - I also
understood that being eccentric is
not so bad after all. Arthur shares his discovery from an editorial composed by
a monk which carefully expounded that eccentric in the etymological sense (as
in eccentricus in Latin) means
‘having a different centre’. That seems to me, a worthy aspiration of being in,
but not of the world.
And so, what I sense as
God’s inspiration for me to embrace modern monk-hood (an oblate perhaps?) both
fascinated and penetrated my soul at depths previously unexplored. Less about
the credulity and enormity of the task. But more about my propensity to veer
off ancient paths (Jeremiah 6:16) that I’ve committed to walking hand-in-hand
alongside God for the second half of life.
I’m not sure what or how
being a modern monastic speaks to your spirit. I wonder if it could be more of
a way of mind and life governed by sacred rhythms, minus conjured images of donning hooded cloaks and cowl,
round-the-clock chapel petitions or infallible mystic temperaments.
May newer rites of grace prevail
Pressing on, three spiritual
practices have greatly helped me sustain God-centred living. I hope some of
these inspire you to find what suites you well, to help you and me make our way
clear-headed and ‘time-wise’ through peaceful, monotonous or volatile days.
First, silence. Mark 1:35 is
a profound inspiration for me: very early in the morning, while it was still
dark, Jesus got up, left the house and went off to a solitary place, where he
prayed. Flipping that verse, I now commit to getting up at 5:31am (a desire
that remains a work in progress, as you can imagine). Usually, the first order
of the day is naked silence before God, with a lighted candle and crucifix. Our
Almighty gets the first word. And when time and space are generous, being in
God’s presence itself is often more than enough. Here, I find the wonder and treasure
of grace-soaked gifts. Emerging from the great expanse of silence is the irony
of grasping limitations and my smallness. What ‘enough’ means for the day ahead
becomes clearer. Then there is spiritual sustenance - to keep in step with the
Spirit as the day trudges along - where I find myself desiring less and less to
gratify the sinful nature (Gal 5:16, 25).
Spirit-nested and settled
in silence, new ‘old’ hymns and songs also rise up from within as sweet incense.
Let me share a recent fragrant offering: To keep your lovely face, ever before my eyes, this is my prayer, make it my strong desire, that in my
secret heart, no other love competes, no rival throne survives and I serve only
you (Graham Kendrick, 1983).
“We can make our minds so like still water, that beings gather about us that they may see, it may be, their own images, and so live for a moment with clearer, perhaps even a fiercer life ... because of our quiet”
William Butler Yeats, The Celtic Twilight
Third, for lack of a better
description – digital fasting. The wisdom I seek is that of establishing discerning
boundaries. Simple decisions like setting aside the iPhone for large portions
of the day - especially in the night when fatigue descends and I’m inclined to
numb my mind with news and unhealthy, endless scrolling. Enjoying a drive
without making/ taking calls and checking e-mails at stops (in the process, regaining
roadworthy concentration!). Taking off my smartwatch and relishing the freedom
to trust God with the gift of sound sleep, be it deep or in Rapid Eye Movement
(REM) stages. Building in phases of walking during my jogs, instead of
pre-occupations with completing a run at specific cadence. Trying (in desperation)
to be creative and parent with more engaging, less-digital activities. Drawing
thicker Work-From-Home (WFH) margins to avoid porously acquiescing to midnight
shifts (on my own accord). Finally, changing perspectives from FOMO to JOMO
(‘Fear’ to the ‘Joy’ Of Missing Out).
A confession: the closer I
sense God, the more my inner world grows delicate and sensitive to scatter,
noise, clamour and chaos. Yet, this is something I’ve been unwilling to admit
and confront. I know why – it is because the trade-off of inner quiet is having
to relinquish pride and the solace of feeling productive and in greater control
of how things turn out with family, vocation, relationships ... with life.
At day’s end, I remind myself that engaging in newer rites of grace is not about abstinence, suppression or escapism. The tender call is to return to places where my centre can be nourished. I want to imitate Christ in Luke 5:16, who often withdrew to lonely places to pray. And I need to be keenly aware that these places are desolate (ESV); into the wilderness (KJV); ‘out-of-the-way’ (The Message), instead of my expectations of meeting God in prevailing disposition of comfort and ease.
Living Eternity in our hearts, as time and tech fades away into
rightful place
To be sure, technology has many enabling facets that serve us well. The reach of YouTube church services and spiritual formation discoveries (I highly recommend the app ‘Abide’) attest to this. Yet, the need for close community is greater than ever in times ahead. However baffling it may sound, I long for the return of silent retreats but not without the quintessential company of fellow sojourners. The dynamic value that in-touch, convivial engagements bring to bear on soul-vitality cannot be overstated. This will require intentional technological compromise and recede. It seems unwise to merely embrace technology as being neutral, with the contemporary advice to ‘go with the flow’. We need to think deeper – not just about how it is upending our outer world and the time we spend, but also about how technology is forming our spirits from within.
Some
examples. Personally, I grapple with lesser willingness to wait on God for
strength to tide over ordained seasons of longsuffering. Being fully present
with, and compassionate to others around me is another challenge. Gratitude and
contentment also wanes over time. Without realising it, these un-freedoms are
being weaved into the fabric of my spirit, thinning out the full experience of
soul-rest. Turbocharged consumerism (anything I want, now), the deluge of
real-time information and expectations, freely giving away ‘innocuous’ time and
limited mental bandwidth to devices – all of these have a way of breeding
weariness that can negate our spiritual vitality.
“When unclear about fundamental priorities, urgency becomes the
default position”, Arthur Boers
Clearly, faith solutions to
compressed time-demands and digital innovation are getting more complex, and setting
external limits can only go so far. Albert Borgmann opined that ‘technology
will be appropriated ... not when it is enclosed in boundaries but when it is
related to the centre ... the answer is not to find a line, but to remember and
invigorate those centres in our lives that engage our place, our time, and the
people around us’. I hope we can learn to draw on God’s wisdom and discernment to
live this out in the faith-practical terms of our unique individual and
communal context.
Albert adds that ‘Kairos
... is the moment of grace where things are properly centred in a way that we
don’t have to unsay them or surpass them at a later moment.’ What a beautiful
way to express the gift of living from a rested core, filled with love and
grace to the brim and overflowing.
Friends, may the eternity that God has set in our hearts come alive (Ecc 3:11), as we engage in spiritual practices that centre, balance, focus and orient our lives in Christ. Truly God is the ageless One, far transcending our feeble understanding of time and technology. And so may it please you dear Father, to grant us newer rites of grace for seasons in and well beyond the pandemic. Amen.
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