Contexting

Search for the Authentic

We're buying HD televisions because the higher resolution makes it feel more "real." Soda manufacturers are dumping high-fructose corn syrup for old-fashioned (and more expensive) cane sugar. We watch reality TV (hoping to get a glimpse of people losing their manners, inhibitions, and common sense)- something that we know we'd never see real actors do.

In the products we use every day, plastic is being replaced with aluminum, glass, and wood. Vintage is valued. Photoshopped images are considered a fail.

Kroger is out. Whole Foods (Trader Joe's, etc.) in. It's not about being first, or even being the best. iPod, Kleenex, Crocs, Dr. Pepper, YouTube, and KFC all established themselves as the originals, and now spend their time defending that title. Their competitors' knockoffs are labeled as "imposters."

We're always looking for what's real, and we're quick to assume that what's presented isn't. Scandals and "shocking" exposés prove it all the time. That's why a good apology is worth more than a cover-up. It's satisfying to be told you were right all along.

When you talk to people, are they seeing the real you? Do you allow enough humility, enough humanity to show through in your personal interactions for people to see who you really are? If not, you should. Others are wary of anything that seems fake, distant, deceptive, dishonest, or inauthentic.

Information Junkies

In premodern times (and places), information was hard to come by. Nobody knew what was going on in other parts of the world (many debated whether there even were other parts of the world). People were starved for information. They made decisions based on what little they had, and the credibility of the messenger determined whether the information was reliable or not.

Of course, our problem is the opposite. We have too much information. It's everywhere, but we can't get enough. We're constantly googling, surfing, watching, and listening. Even when we're not looking for it, it comes streaming in- radio, television, newspapers, magazines, billboards, internet, email, spam. Our need isn't for more information, it's for a filter. We need the tools to be able to discern what is useful, good, and true, from all the other noise out there.

Our addiction to information both good and bad has many implications for missional living:

-You have to establish a context. On the web, everything is categorized and tagged and followed with a link to similar items of interest. If you have a message to share, you've got to provide enough meaning, relationship, and application cues to be sure that people know how to process that information.

-The messenger is still important. We love to latch on to sources of information that we can trust as reliable (in the "we like the info they provide" sense, not the "this info is always accurate" sense). It takes effort to filter the flow of information, so it's comforting when we think we can be more passive. If I'm a fan of, say, Christiane Amanpour, (or Sean Hannity, or Brian McLaren, or Tim Challies) then I can turn off my filter when I allow her to be my source of info.

-The means of communication affects the message. There are appropriate ways to use a handwritten note, a bullhorn, and a full-page ad in the newspaper. Skywriting, maybe. Sign language, sometimes. Bumper stickers, every once in a while.  Spam, never. How the message is shared affects how it is heard and received.

Remembery

I'm a firstborn. My early childhood is chronicled in hundreds of 4"x6" photographs taken with Mom's trusty Kodak Instamatic. It's all there: my first birthday. Our family vacation to Disneyland. Me at three years old playing naked in the sprinklers in our front yard.

I remember these events not because of my memory, but because I've grown up looking at the pictures. Technically, I shouldn't remember the family reunion when I was three, but the photographs have burned images of it in my mind. My brain has adopted those images as "memory."

I'm amazed at the implications of this phenomenon. How many of my memories are things I actually experienced, and how many are data that has been "uploaded" and assimilated? My first ride on a bicycle? Our family's wood-paneled station wagon?

Of course, technology has developed leaps and bounds since those days. Now Moms carry high-resolution digital cameras and shoot hundreds of gigabytes of photos (and video). Any major (and no-so-major) event in the world is photographed as it happens from multiple angles. We watch those events in our living rooms and on our computer screens. How many of them are becoming "memories" to people who weren't even there?

This is the power of telling stories. With every "retelling," images (mental or photographic) become part of our memory. This is why ancient cultures passed on stories using the first-person-plural, "we." "Remember Abraham" the stories would go. To this day, people "remember" crossing the Red Sea on dry land and wandering in the wilderness.

These days, we don't tell stories. We show pictures. But it's the same thing. You should tell stories, too. The same ones, over and over. Don't just tell them until they're familiar. Tell them until they're memories.

Cultural Tourism

To be a true fan of punk rock, you've got to go all out- spiked mohawk, pierced lip, black tapered-leg jeans, and a leather dog collar.

If you were a real carpenter, you'd use only hand tools that you forged yourself.

If you really cared about the environment, you would live in a commune and make your own clothes out of hemp.

Anything less and you're selling out.

Right?

 No. Not any more. Soccer moms drive their SUVs to shop at Whole Foods (they bring their own grocery bags, by the way.) Cubicle-bound businesswomen listen to the Ramones on their iPods without a hint of irony. Football fans wear sweatshirts from colleges they've never even visited. Suburban kids recite "G-Unit" lyrics in the schoolyard.

The days of modernistic all-or-nothing thinking are over. Purity of culture is a value of the past; this is the age of cultural tourism. The line between devoted fan and casual observer is fading. The cultural tourist takes what's cool (a few souvenirs to remember his visit) without making any real commitment to the movement. 

It's funny- the tourists may not be as devout as the purists, but they do a much better job of taking a movement to the masses.

The Truth Is Out There

You might not realize this, but there has been an ongoing public discussion of faith, religious experience, and the supernatural. All around you, people are talking about spiritual things. It's likely that you're missing it, though. Most Christians have been uninvited for preaching without listening, and insisting on dictating the terms of the conversation.

Maybe it's just because you're looking for church words like "God," "Sin," "Heaven," or "Hell." 

 These days, these themes:

• Redemption (inner struggle, restitution, reparations)
• Forgiveness (making amends, paying one's debts)
• Justice (right and wrong, social morality, causes: Africa, Darfur, drinking water, sweatshops, etc.)
• Validation (parental rejection, high-school hazing, etc. )

Are discussed through these stories:

• Aliens (what's out there, out of our control, beyond our understanding, putting us in our place)
• Ghosts (interaction with the supernatural, spiritual, unknown after death, fear)
• Angels/demons (as above, but focusing on good/evil)
• Advanced Technology (Artificial Intelligence, killer robots)

Your choice is to ridicule the stories as being absurd, or recognize the themes behind the stories and construct a Christian narrative that recognizes the truth into them.

Consuming You

Consumerism is a growing problem around the world. People everywhere are believing the lie that having more (newer or better) stuff will make their lives easier, better, and more fulfilling.

Here's how the lie goes:

"What you have is old, outdated, and out of fashion. It doesn't really fit your personality. Why settle for what you need when, for just a few dollars more, you can have what you want?"

An on and on it goes.

Consumerism is more than just buying nice things. The compulsive QVC shopper hoarding Beanie Babies is every bit as consumeristic as the eccentric millionaire buying a third Lamborghini. For Wal-mart shoppers, it's the allure of low prices and one-stop-shopping convenience. For churchgoers, it's the quest for the best worship leader or the highest quality children's program. The production cycle gets shorter, the technology gets better, and we upgrade.

We aren't innocent in the perpetuation of the lie, but we're up against some real predators. Constantly, the story is told in deceptive ways by attractive people. Who doesn't want to be cool, safe, comfortable and envied by others? We want quality (perceived or real). We want New! and Improved! Now we want green and fair and organic. We want that feeling we get when we buy something new and try it out for the first time. (And we want it to come cheaper and to last longer than it did last time.)

We believe the lie because we're afraid not to. Even after learning our lesson time and time again, we're afraid that maybe, just this once, the lie might be true. Maybe this diet soda will help me lose weight. Maybe this brand of deodorant will make me attractive to beautiful girls.

You know, like in the commercials.

You know this about the way people behave. You understand the power of marketing. You can recognize consumerism and the shallow, wasteful, discontent society it creates. How will this knowledge affect your message and how you tell it?

From Bob Vila to Rachael Ray

The do-it-yourself movement (and yes, it can be classified as a movement) was the result of the rise of niche cable channels and clever marketing on the part of hardware, tool, and home improvement companies. Think about it- entire television networks dedicated to advertising that doesn't feel like advertising. Bob Vila. Norm Abram. "Hometime." The message: "You can do it!" Construction, remodeling, and interior design were demystified, leaving the audience feeling empowered to do it themselves (and ready to run out and buy every new tool and gadget they never knew they needed).

Of course, remodeling your own home is a lot of work, even if you did spend $34.95 on the hardcover edition of Home Improvement 1-2-3: Expert Advice from the Home Depot. In the end, Americans needed a do-it-yourself trend that didn't require quite as much effort.

Enter "The 30-Minute Meal with Rachael Ray." Okay, so maybe Julia Child was the (grand)mother of the do-it-yourself cooking movement, but the disgustingly bubbly Ray has brought it into the mainstream. Viewers of her cooking, travel, and talk shows (and readers of her books, websites, and magazines) walk away encouraged to "experiment with their flavors" (and to buy Nabisco crackers, Dunkin' Donuts coffee, and Burger King value meals).

Audiences love to hear that anyone can remodel a master bedroom suite. That they, too, can throw a few things in a pot and put together a gourmet meal in under 30 minutes. The message isn't entirely true, but it's a lie that millions of Americans love to tell themselves every day.

The evolution of the do-it-yourself phenomenon matters because people don't believe in experts any more. Bob Vila, whether he actually knew a thing about drywall and plumbing, came off as a knowledgeable and handy guy- an expert who taught the audience how to do something and encouraged them to give it a try over the weekend. Rachael Ray, on the other hand, is a regular girl who likes to cook.

It's the same with politicians, TV stars, and pastors. Demystifying your role (letting people in on the fact that what you do is something that they could do, too) will change the rules. Will you continue to insist on being the tour guide, or can you become a fellow traveller? Guess which one has more influence these days.