A Technology Sabbath: Towards redeeming our smartphones

 It can be hard to take Sabbath rest amid the pressures of academia. This is at least partially because of how technology allows us to be available and able to work at almost any time, irrelevant of where we are. Yet, Sabbath is a gift from God: a reminder of God’s good gift of rest and how even our best efforts cannot save the world. So as we enter into Lent, I encourage you to take Sabbath weekly, including taking a break from our smart phones (i.e., not touching it for a time except to make pre-arranged calls to loved ones).

The point of putting our smartphones down for awhile is to become more aware of how we use our phones in life (and how often we use it). Actually putting it away prevents us from allowing it to distract us from the world around us. The following are some further suggestions to grow in awareness of how much time we spend on our phones, as well as suggestions for preventing our phones from interrupting our lives unnecessarily:

• Put an app on your phone (like quality time) that tracks how often you pick up your phone and which apps you use most.
• Keep your phone out of reach (or in a bag if it’s with you); at the least, don’t put it on the table near you (and perhaps don’t even have it with you).
• Figure out which app you use too much and delete it.
• Turn off all notifications on your phone (if not all the time, at least some of the time). Decide what times of what days you won’t look at email.
• Do one thing before looking at your phone in the morning.
• Put a picture of that which is important to you as background on your phone.
• Rearrange the apps on your phone so that you’re reminded of what’s more important.
• Before picking up your phone and using an app, think this through a. what is my goal in opening this app? b. how do I know when my goal is accomplished? These are also helpful questions for any technology uses.

All of the above suggestions are about trying to remind ourselves that our smartphones (and any technology we have) are tools. They are a gift that can make our lives a lot better, especially in terms of being connected to people we care about. At the same time, smartphones can be addictive, especially as we can use them as a means not to feel bored or to be present to the world around us. Paying more attention to them is one way of allowing them to be more of a positive tool than a bad habit.

Further resources

• A helpful podcast with suggestions (a number of them given above) is that of Aaron Enfield and Jeff Sajdak of Calvin Theological Seminary.
• Further thoughts on Sabbath from The Bible Project.
• Has the Smart phone destroyed the next generation? An extensive article by Jean M. Twenge.
• Short article on how it’s not just young people who could use a break from screen time.

originally published at the Campus Edge blog

Science vs. Faith?

 While most people who are religious would argue that science and faith do not conflict, it can sometimes be challenging to be both a scientist and a person of faith. Faith is not always welcome in scientific fields (or specific departments), and the curious, questioning part of ourselves that makes us good scientists is not always welcome in churches. In order to encourage folks with this challenge, Campus Edge held an evening discussion on faith and science (with special guest, Rachel Barnard from MSU’s Lyman Briggs College).

The following is some of the wisdom that was shared by those present. Hopefully this might encourage you to recognize you are not alone in your struggles. At the same time, even though sometimes the challenge might seem overwhelming, what we’ve learned by becoming good scientists/academics can also contribute to our faith in a positive way.

The following are some of the challenges that we face:

• Many of have us have lost innocence in approaching the Bible and Christianity, as we no longer approach the Bible and Christian teaching the way we used to. This is generally on account of increased doubt and questioning of our Christian beliefs and how we’ve been taught to interpret the Bible.
• Science has trained us that everything should be test-able and only things that can be tested are worth studying. The challenge is that some faith questions can never be tested.
• Science and academia consume a lot of time and energy, and even shape our identity, especially since how productive/effective we are affects our perceived worth as a scientist.
• One’s spiritual self is often pushed to the side, sometimes because of time, but also because one’s spirituality is often encouraged (or even feels forced) to be separate from one’s academic self. Even one’s personal and emotional self is not always allowed in academia, as often only one’s rationality, work, and/or production is valued.
• It can be difficult in some fields to identify as a Christian, partly because of how Christians are seen to view evolution. At the same time, many of those who are in humanities found it hard(er) to identify as Christian, as Christians are often seen as not deserving of having a valid voice/opinion to add to discussions, on account of coming from a perspective of intolerance (oppression) and having had excessive privilege in the past.
• There are times competing narratives in how one understands the world and humanity. For example, science sees people as highly evolved animals where as Christianity believes that humans are the image of God. This affects our understanding of how we ought to treat others, as well as how we approach performance reviews (is this about ‘justifying our existence’ or about indicating how we’ve tried to be faithful in the use of our time and talents?).

The following is the other side of the story – How science can contribute in a positive way to faith:

• It’s a joy to read the Bible with scientists because they notice small details and ask difficult questions. They’re meticulous and are not satisfied with simplistic answers.
• Scientists don’t like easy answers; scientists have practice sitting with questions. In doing this, we learn then “to trust and wait and hope and try” (as Rachel described it so well).
• Science searches for truth. This helps counteract some of the extremes of postmodernism in our culture, where it can feel like all perspectives are seen as equally valid. At the same time, science tends toward the other extreme (modernism) and the belief that reason (science) can redeem the world and solve [all] problems.
• Many people do a lot of praying in the lab; how can that, irrelevant of the reason for the prayers, not bring us closer to God?
• It is often the wonder we had in God’s creation that drew us into science. While science has often become more ordinary, more busy, and more difficult since we were first drawn to it, this does not erase the wonder.
• The challenges found in the scientific field push us towards finding our identity in God. Practicing Sabbath is especially helpful in that, as it forces us to stop all our efforts and instead remember that God is sovereign (and all my efforts cannot save the world). Sabbath also provides us with an opportunity to experience God through wonder and curiosity.

Of note is that the question of science vs. faith has become less a conversation about creation and evolution. Christians are finding it easier to agree that God had a fundamental role in the formation of the world and appear to be less concerned with exactly how that happened. That isn’t to say that people are not struggling with this question, it is simply that the focus on creation vs. evolution has shifted from five years ago. The focus now is more on how people of faith ought to respond to developments in science (e.g., AI, gene editing, climate change, etc.).

originally published at the Campus Edge blog

Assumptions connected to sexuality

I recently came across an blog post that raised a good question about some of the assumptions we make connected to sexuality:

"No one ever wanted to know that I was celibate when they believed I was straight. Even when I had a boyfriend, not a single person ever questioned my sexual purity. But now that I’m openly gay, everyone in the church wants to hear that I’m celibate. More than that, almost universally, I’m exhorted to open my heart to the possibility of finding a man. It makes you wonder. Why is the straight life automatically holy but the queer life automatically sinful?"

So much of the conversation within our churches about sexuality tends to focus on having the right views, meaning whether or not I'm affirming of same-sex relationships. Shouldn't it be focused on whether we are honouring God with our sexuality, irrelevant of whether or not we are single and/or heterosexual?

Faith isn't about getting gold stars

A podcast I've been listening to lately - the Mockingcast - has been helpful both for encouraging me and making me think more about faith. The podcast focuses on the places where we see grace - and its absence - in the world. Because of this, it has helped me to think more about how desperately we ALL need grace.

They also have a blog, which I've also appreciated. A recent article by Sarah Condon, one of the people on the podcast, made me laugh and wonder again how I might share more what the grace and hope of God looks like. First, the part that made me laugh:

"A friend approached me with urgency on his face and said, “Sarah, I need to tell you something. I got dressed up today for church. I mean, we were planning on coming to the service. But something has come up. And now we have to leave. And I have not seen your husband. But I want you to tell him you saw me so I can get credit.”

This poor guy, this dear friend, had accidentally hit one of my buttons.

And so, in all of my demurely Christian charism, I turned to him and said in one breath:

“I could give a sh*t whether or not you showed up at church this morning. All the credit you need happened on the cross 2000 years ago. We believe in grace at this church.”

Needless to say, I doubt I’ll be invited to speak at any evangelism conferences."

I can almost imagine myself saying that! 

She continued by reminding me of how church ought to be: "We do not come to church because we get a gold star. We come to church because we have tried everything else and it turns out we continue to be exhausted by the world and our lives. Church is a last-ditch effort for many of us. It is what happens before we start drinking more or isolating more or doing whatever it is that harangues us, more. . . As a professional Christian I should be desperate to have more people in the pews. But I am only a desperate person who sees desperate people and desperately wants to point them to the one thing that has helped me."

I was left wondering how I might do a better job of recognizing how all of us are desperate. And how do I be honest about the neediness of all of us, both in my church and ministry? Last of all, how do I speak of how God's grace and hope meets all of us there in our need?

January: failure and grace

January always seems to surprise me with how overwhelming it is. Even this year, when I did a lot to order things well, I still felt like I got hit by a truck (or a bakfiets as Matthijs and I often say, since it'd be less likely to do serious damage and yet cause a lot of pain). The following list should give you an idea of why I thought that, for once, this January would be easier:

• I had a great, relaxing vacation, thanks to friends and family (especially my Dutch in-laws). We also had a few days back at home before 'regular' life started, and I could even work a few half days before starting back.
• Matthijs's work is much less intense than his PhD program was - and it feels like we've mostly recovered from the stress connected to that.
• I didn't have to plan/outline studies for the next 8 weeks of Campus Edge since we were continuing with our study on Isaiah. On top of that, I have a great intern working for me who leads studies a lot (and is very passionate about Isaiah). 
• The little is getting to an age where she is more independent and can play on her own sometimes. 

But this past week it finally dawned on me what part of January hadn't changed. Every year in January I approach the year with extra hopes and plans and expectations about all the things I'm going to get done. I think the expectations were even higher this year because of how much my life had felt ordered (and I felt well-rested). 

And then I failed. Perhaps because the biggest expectation was how diligently I was going to be working on my dissertation to finally finish it. But working on it has been hard (which shouldn't have surprised me, since it has taken this long already). And so January has been coloured by disappointment in myself. Again.

Fortunately, January isn't only about disappointment. With each failed attempt (and each successful attempt) to work hard on my dissertation (and work and life stuff), I'm reminded of the truths that I have been learning this past year. Failure is not the end of the story but the beginning. My failures (and my successes) are opportunities to experience God's grace and the reassurance that my value is not dependent on how good (or productive) I am. 

Slaughter of the Innocents - December 28 (and January 11)

In many liturgical traditions, on the fourth day of Christmas the church remembers the innocents slaughtered in Bethlehem as Herod tries to kill the king that the magi came and visited (Matthew 2:13-23). As Christmas is a time of joy, it is disconcerting to have this story of great suffering break into the celebration.

Yet, there is also something good about reading this story so close to Christmas, as Esau McCaulley, the author of a recent New York Times article points out:

"The church calendar calls Christians and others to remember that we live in a world in which political leaders are willing to sacrifice the lives of the innocent on the altar of power. We are forced to recall that this is a world with families on the run, where the weeping of mothers is often not enough to win mercy for their children. More than anything, the story of the innocents calls upon us to consider the moral cost of the perpetual battle for power in which the poor tend to have the highest casualty rate.

But how can such a bloody and sad tale do anything other than add to our despair? The Christmas story must be told in the context of suffering and death because that’s the only way the story makes any sense. Where else can one speak about Christmas other than in a world in which racism, sexism, classism, materialism and the devaluation of human life are commonplace? People are hurting, and the epicenter of that hurt, according to the Feast of the Holy Innocents, remains the focus of God’s concern."

Christmas is a time of joy and hope only when it recognizes the suffering of people today - and our desperate need for Christ's coming to change everything.

Besides the encouraging and challenging words that the article brings, the presence of the article itself in the New York Times also gives me hope. How can I not be encouraged when a major newspaper, read by so many people who are unfamiliar with Christianity, carries an article like this (and that on Advent) that clearly presents the real hope of Christ to a hurting world?


For further reflections on the story, see the Empire Remixed blog, of which the following is a quote:

"You see, just as the Christ child in the manger
becomes cheap sentimentality apart from
the refugee family running for their lives,
so also is the refugee child
reduced to unfair escapism
if divorced from the bodies strewn all around
Bethlehem after the Holy Family flees."

It takes a village

There is a well-known phrase that it takes a village to raise a child. The phrase suggests that a child needs multiple people around them in order to grow up well. But it's not just my child who needs a village: I, her parent, also need one.

When people ask me how I feel about being a parent, my response is positive: I enjoy being a mom to our little. And then I qualify my response: I enjoy it because I have people who help us out, and I'm not sure I would enjoy it as much if I didn't regularly have so much 'time off' from active parenting. I'm deeply thankful that the people at both her previous day care and her current one care for her and want what is best for her. And the little thoroughly enjoys going there. Matthijs and I have a wonderful friend who regularly watches the little most Monday evenings when I have to work. And I have friends and family who help me process what it means to be a parent: the exhaustion, the confusion, the frustrations, as well as the joys. And last, but not least, Matthijs and I share the responsibilities of parenting. And we share a trust that God is with us as we raise this small person that has been gifted to us.

Because the burden of looking after and raising the little is shared, I feel like I'm more able to delight in her presence when I am with her. Sometimes there is a struggle of how I can love her well while also taking time to do other things that I love and help others - but the struggle has been less overwhelming because of the wonderful village we have to help with the little.