So much for multi-tasking with a smartphone. Researchers at The University of Texas at Austin have found the following:
...that it didn’t matter whether a person’s smartphone was turned on or off, or whether it was lying face up or face down on a desk. Having a smartphone within sight or within easy reach reduces a person’s ability to focus and perform tasks because part of their brain is actively working to not pick up or use the phone..
We really are addicted to these things and they pretty much destroy our concentration.
The next time you are in a meeting look around the and see who has a smartphone in reach. Doesn’t matter if it’s in their hand or on the table. They aren’t actually engaged with the meeting. Even if they think they are.
Everybody’s phone needs to go into a basket when they enter the room.
Reconciliation is supposed to be a defining characteristic of Christian community. But the social media and messaging apps that smartphones weld into everyday life might actually get in the way.
The previous post highlighted a CBS News report* detailing how app developers attempt to deliberately manipulate the way our brains work. The goal is to keep us coming back to apps and the advertising they push. But one of the byproducts is that our phones make us anxious when we don’t use them. So, if you are in conflict with someone and using social media or messaging apps to communicate, you are likely at least somewhat stressed before the fighting ever starts.
This seems like a recipe for misunderstanding and escalation.
Plain-old email is bad enough. Text-based communication inherently lacks the non-verbal cues required for language to fully express emotions. Over the years I have watched a number of conflicts spiral out of control as the recipient colored otherwise innocuous language with tones to which the sender was insensitive. But now a smartphone addiction can add a dollop of excess cortisol and load the interchange with some very unhealthy overhead.
So, the next time you feel the urge to fire off an angry text or post to a friend, just don’t.
Instead, use this cool app on your phone that allows you to avoid all that. You know, the one that makes phone calls. Call the person and have a conversation.
Or better yet call them, arrange to meet for coffee, and then have the conversation.
Which of you, by being anxious, can add one moment to his lifespan? –Matthew 6:27, World English Bible.
But we seem to think we can worry ourselves into more likes on our Facebook pages. There is an experiment that is worth the attempt. Disconnect from all social media and electronic devices for a full day — leave your phone at home and go somewhere fun. Does even the thought of doing so make you anxious? If so, a television segment from the show 60 minutes (CBS News) might explain why.
The piece is titled What is “brain hacking”? And in it Anderson Cooper profiles how the tech industry appears to be attempting to use neuroscience to manipulate our physiology so we use their products.
Advertisers have been attempting to get in our heads for years. Most consumer marketing is about image and how our lives will be suddenly fulfilled and have meaning if I buy this or that. Very little of it is about actual product information. But Cooper captures something qualitatively different in a quote from Tristan Harris about children, social media and smartphones:
…there’s a narrative that, “Oh, I guess they’re just doing this like we used to gossip on the phone, but what this misses is that your telephone in the 1970s didn’t have a thousand engineers on the other side of the telephone who were redesigning it to work with other telephones and then updating the way your telephone worked every day to be more and more persuasive.
Except it’s not mere persuasion. Harris described the tech companies’ competition for our attention as a “race to the bottom of the brainstem.” And as psychologist Larry Rosen pointed out during the segment:
What we find is the typical person checks their phone every 15 minutes or less and half of the time they check their phone there is no alert, no notification. It’s coming from inside their head telling them, “Gee, I haven’t check in Facebook in a while. I haven’t checked on this Twitter feed for a while. I wonder if somebody commented on my Instagram post.” That then generates cortisol and it starts to make you anxious. And eventually your goal is to get rid of that anxiety so you check in.
The tech companies appear to be engineering theirs apps and devices to make us anxious. To turn us into addicts.
The idea that social media feeds stimulate biochemical responses is not new. But what is quite disturbing is that the tech companies might be deliberately engineering the devices and apps to stimulate addictive responses. Seems to me we’ve seen this before. In past years the tobacco industry was taken to task for manipulating nicotine levels in cigarettes. They were described as creating:
…nicotine delivery systems that deliver nicotine in precisely calculated quantities — quantities that are more than sufficient to create and to sustain addiction in the vast majority of individuals who smoke regularly.
I’m not seeing a great deal of difference between the behavior of Apple, Google or Facebook, and that of the tobacco companies. They are turning smartphone and social media cravings into the 21st century version of the nicotine fit.
As a follow-up to my somewhat befuddled post on Open Theism here’s a YouTube clip of John C. Polkinghorne discussing the nature of time.
The clip is part of the Closer to Truth PBS series (US, Corporation for Public Broadcasting). Polkinghorne* is a theoretical physicist and an Anglican priest. He appears to view God’s interaction with time as an act of divine self-limitation, which I touched on as a possibility in the post.
Theologians have been arguing for some centuries over predestination vs free-will. In the modern world this has carried over into the determinism vs free-will debate. It seems to me what one thinks about time impacts directly on which side of the divide on which one lands.
A couple of years ago my wife and I read The Gifts of Imperfection* together. The book resonated with me. Since then other bits by the author, Brene Brown, have tended to get my attention. Here’s a video clip from Brown talking about forgiveness.
When I was introduced to faith as allegiance last summer it was like a strobe going off inside my head. It provided some much needed illumination to clarify some pretty muddled thinking. I got to the idea through reading about Greco-Roman history via both modern and ancient authors.
I’m currently reading Salvation by Allegiance Alone: Rethinking Faith, Works, and the Gospel of Jesus the King . The author’s route (so far) is through readings of biblical texts. The book is a subject of discussion on Jesus Creed, where Scot McKnight is excerpting and commenting on sections of the book. The posts are worth reading. They help flesh out the idea, as do the broad range of comments, which include some objections .
Faith as allegiance might be a difficult idea to engage because we moderns don’t understand it. The notion of Christ as King is completely alien way of thinking, other than in some sort of distant theoretical sense. There aren’t very many kings any more, and with some exceptions, they are pretty much figureheads without any actual power. This is a good thing, given the sketchy history of hereditary human monarchies. But it leaves us with a much weaker image of what loyalty to someone’s person actually looks like. What loyalties we have tend towards ideas and systems. Or possibly to perversions like wholly corrupt state cults of the The Dear Leader.
And at a personal level what we think of as loyalty is often mere affinity. We are committed to friends and spouses because we like them. When we no longer like them it seems to be perfectly fine to go find new ones. We demonstrate little understanding of the choice often articulated in marriage vows, forsaking all others.
My suspicion is that our poor understanding of loyalty predisposes us to treat faith as purely cognitive at the expense of the relational. Following Christ becomes a matter of accepting the correct propositions, accompanied in varying proportions by having the right emotions and experiences. We are committed to the idea of Jesus, or the feeling of Jesus, instead of to the person of Jesus.
To be clear, faith is not some sterile choice. The first and second century faith language of pistis/fides does not pull apart into ideas and experience in such a tidy way. Trust is enmeshed in it. And allegiance seems to be the binder that holds the thing together.
The contrast of a pair of Lenten vignettes might help us understand this a bit better.
There is Judas’ betrayal, which was rooted in divided loyalties. In addition to following Jesus he was serving his own interests. In his role as the treasurer for the little band of disciples he was also skimming a bit of coin for his own benefit. This was a small betrayal. But the difference between this and the larger payoff by the authorities was only a matter of degree. Unfortunately for Judas the actual implications didn’t register until after sentence was passed by the Sanhedrin.
On the other hand, there was no question where Peter’s loyalties lay. From stepping out of the boat in the storm to whacking off an ear in the garden, he was ready to do whatever the moment called for to follow his teacher. While this played out in some impulsive and highly dysfunctional ways Peter was “all in” at a very personal level. But he lacked the courage and strength to follow through and buckled from the fear of storms and people. And after the arrest of Jesus denied knowing him.
If faith is grounded in allegiance then an aspect of grace might include the mercy shown Peter for his frailties. Which means there is hope for the rest of us.
 Matthew W. Bates, with a forward by Scot McKnight. Salvation by Allegiance Alone: Rethinking Faith, Works, and the Gospel of Jesus the King. Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Publishing Group, 2017.
Close your eyes and imagine it is 1938. The German chemists Otto Hahn and Fritz Strassmann have just discovered nuclear fission.
Now give the process of Uncontrolled Nuclear Fission an innocuous acronym like UNUFI, something that sounds a bit like a stuffed animal. And imagine those chemists also discover ways to make it happen within reasonable reach of private parties at manageable costs. Who can then use the process in a barn somewhere out in the woods.
Several years ago, a leader in a local church introduced me to Open Theism. The theology appears grounded in the idea that the future is open and subject to chance and choice. God knows all there is to know about what is settled reality but can only know the future in terms of possibilities. And most of the writing I’ve encountered appears to rely on God as experiencing time. This has been explained to me as a succession of moments. Or, there is a moment (or a time) when God does not know something, and a moment (or a time) in which God does.
This has been bothering me like a bit of gravel stuck inside of a sandal. It seems to grind against the physical phenomenon of time dilation, which is an implication of Einstein’s Special Theory of Relativity (STR). STR describes what happens when velocities differ between objects in the absence of acceleration. STR is based on two things:
The special principle of relativity: The laws of physics are the same for all observers, regardless of their velocity.
The speed of light in a vacuum (c) is constant: That is, everyone will always measure the speed of light as being the same (i.e. c = 299,798,458 m/s), regardless of their own velocity. 
These postulates establish relationships between time, distance, velocity, and the speed of light that can be described mathematically. As regarding time this might boil down to the following. Since the speed of light is constant, as velocity increases, time slows. And if our velocities are different relative to each other, our experience of time is also different.
If I board a space ship and travel for a few years at some measurable fraction of the speed of light, when I return you will have biologically aged more rapidly than I. My “present” will be no longer aligned with yours. This time dilation can be tested in particle accelerators and with moving clocks.
And as it happens, GPS satellites factor in corrections for time dilation resulting from both velocity and gravity. Accounting for the latter requires applying Einstein’s General Theory of Relativity, and adds a level of complexity to this discussion I am simply going to avoid. The point is that the passage of time seems inseparable from the fabric of the material world. A clock does not merely measure time. Time itself is in some way part of the operation of the clock.
In an attempt to wrap my head around the matter and give it a fair hearing I am currently reading God in an open universe: science, metaphysics, and open theism.  The book has a section that discusses STR in detail. It includes a fairly dense philosophical defense of Open Theism in the context of presentism vs. eternalism, as well as tensed and tenseless ideas about time.
But all of this really seems to be beside the point as it applies to God. I am probably missing something but what I’ve read so far in the book does not seem to engage the core problem and what philosophy extrapolates from Relativity Theory might be irrelevant to this issue. Time dilation is a physical phenomenon. Which means time is an inherent feature of the material universe.
I could do with some clarification. If what is meant is that God voluntarily limits the scope of interaction with the material world there might be some common ground here. But I do not see any possible way for God to inherently experience time as a succession of moments. What would also prevent thinking of God in terms of constraints such as distance, velocity, and the speed of light? This risks anthropomorphisms like Zeus and Odin.
The bar seems quite high. A while back Stephen Hawking participated in an episode of the television show Curiosity, titled Did God Create the Universe? His answer to the question focused on the singularity of the Big Bang:
“…here too, time itself must come to a stop. You can’t get to a time before the Big Bang because there was no before the Big Bang. We have finally found something that doesn’t have a cause. Because there was no time for a cause to have existed. For me this means there is no possibility of a creator. Because there is no time for a creator to have existed.“
Hawking seems to think he has disproven God’s existence. There may be some unstated philosophical assumptions buried in the denial of causality, but let’s set that aside. What Hawking does is provide another view of how time is welded into the material order. And I think that what has actually happened is Hawking unwittingly illustrated the difficulties baked into defending any notion of anchoring God “in” time.
If my impressions of all this changes I will post an update. Perhaps there are other ways to think about this. I am neither a philosopher nor a theologian. And my understanding of physics is a bit thin. In an attempt to correct this last problem I am slowly gnawing away at a college primer on relativity theory. As I said when I started, I’m in over my head. And I’m having trouble understanding how a problematic approach to cosmology can be a good context for a theology.
 Adam Auton, An Introduction to Special Relativity (undated). Retrieved from Warp: http://adamauton.com/warp/lesson0.html. See also links at this site for further reading and a downloadable PowerPoint titled Special Relativity for Dummies.
 William Hasker, Thomas Jay Oord, and Dean Zimmerman, editors. God in an open universe: science, metaphysics, and open theism. Eugene: Pickwick Publications, 2011.
I found this book after an online back and forth with one of the editors.
 Edwin F Taylor and John Archibald Wheeler. Spacetime Physics. San Francisco: W.H Freemand and Company, 1963.
There is a second edition published in 1992. The book is listed on the Warp site above, and was also recommended in a forum as an accessible and less “mathy” introduction to modern relativity theory. I plan to acquire the more recent edition at some point. It’s a bit on the spendy side, probably as a result of being a college textbook.
On the one hand, employees have a responsibility to exercise some sort of reasonable care and compartmentalize political activities from an employer’s business activity. But once reasonable care has been exercised regarding that boundary we should be free to speak our minds. And not be abused by other Christians.
If we are trolling fellow believers because of their political opinions our allegiance is no longer to the risen Christ.
During our years in a former church my wife and I heard repeated admonitions from the leadership to greet visitors. Then a couple years ago we found ourselves looking for a new church community. Now we were the newcomers visiting various churches. In some of the communities I noticed an obvious personal connection between congregants that was not readily visible as a visitor in others.
The common thread was that the communities with this apparent “connectedness” had a single service and were smaller congregations . I can’t claim to be able to tease these observations apart. The impact of multiple services could simply be a matter of a meeting location that doesn’t work particularly well, such as with crowd bottlenecks in congested building entrances. But group size, on the other hand, seems to have some inherent dynamics beyond the physical constraints of a meeting place.
I’ve spent most of my working career inside of large organizations and something fundamentally different is going on among people in small social groups vs large ones. In large groups the organizational structure, whatever that happens to be, seems to consistently take on a life of its own and define the function of the group, rather than any shared sense of mission or purpose.
There is a good chance this is a byproduct our cognitive makeup. In the early 1990s British anthropologist Robin Dunbar observed a correlation between the average size of primate social groups and neocortex size . Dunbar extrapolated from that to calculate the number of stable social relationships that humans could comfortably have as somewhere between 150 and 200. He also made the following observation about human use of language, that it,
“…has two unusual properties that make it possible to form groups that are substantially larger than the 150-200 predicted by neocortex size: it allows us (1) to categorise individuals into types and (2) to instruct other individuals as to how they should behave towards specific types of individuals within society.”
In short, it allows us to organize, which suggests a fundamental insight about why organizational structures dominate how people interact when group size grows. Below the limit interaction is about social connection. Above the limit interaction is driven by categorization and instruction.
Since Dunbar first published there appears to be have been a fair bit of debate as to where this boundary actually is, as well as contrary voices pointing out that personal networks in the modern world can be far larger . I am not qualified to wander into the weeds here. All I am suggesting is that the boundary is real and has practical effects on the way social groups and organizing institutions work. And a good bit of political and economic theory seems to be blissfully unaware of it .
Why this matters to churches is that in the midst of theology and spiritual experience we seem to forget the limitations that characterize our physical existence. These just might include aspects of how our brains are wired. We are called into allegiance to the Body of Christ as part and parcel of our allegiance to the risen Lord. But it is possible that we can unnecessarily complicate the outworking of that when the structures we create don’t account for our material boundaries.
This problem seems to me to reach back into the ancient world. Group size was necessarily small when Christianity was a disfavored and sometimes persecuted minority. Faith can certainly come through preaching but in a hostile environment it would spread primarily via personal contact along social networks, such as families, work, and in the marketplace. Communities would be small and in periods of calm they could aggregate at the level of individual churches. But with numerical growth comes categorization and direction. And in learning how to do this the church absorbed the centralized authority practices of the surrounding culture.
And then Constantine’s official recognition of Christianity removed the limits to group size. At large scales centralized authority became a dominant feature of how the Church presented itself. It became an earthly kingdom that looked a whole lot like emperor, monarch, and baron. It is debatable how much this mirrored the kingdom Jesus describe to Pilate as “not of this world.”
We have the conceit in the modern world to believe we have put all this aside. But we also tend to uncritically absorb the authority and organizational structures from our own culture. And as our churches grow those structures come to dominate how they present to the world. Some of them have come to look a whole lot like corporations.
I am not trying to suggest that churches can’t ever be large, or that everything is inherently sweetness and light in small congregations. There are probably constructive ways that groups can grow in size and still foster stable community. There is nothing in Dunbar’s research to suggest that this is not possible.
But is is likely to require conscious thinking about limits as a church grows. Otherwise community is likely to be snuffed out by organization.
 By smaller I mean relative to what we were accustomed. We participated in the same community for nearly three decades. At the beginning attendance was a bit north of 300. At one point attendance peaked at roughly 1000. Relative to some mega-churches even this might be considered small.
 This is probably why some of our grand ideas do not scale well. Consider, for instance, “from each according to his ability, to each according to his needs.” That probably only can work when the “eachs” all know each other. Or have reliable knowledge of reputation, and can readily identify freeloaders, liars and the power-hungry. The moment organization is applied to scale up the idea it becomes all about the apparatus required to collect from those with ability and distribute to those with need. A weak apparatus will collapse under the weight of the freeloaders. A strong apparatus will be dominated by the likes of Stalin and Mao.