NOT ANONYMOUS!

Many of my Kenyan friends were pleased to discover that my given names come from my grandfathers—they felt that somehow my parents had known their tribal naming customs and followed them. The fact that many of them couldn’t easily pronounce any of my names didn’t take away from the fact that my names fit their customs. To solve the pronunciation problem, they gave me another name, one from their culture which fit my circumstance. Later, some of the students I taught gave me at least one nickname—I say at least one because this one they revealed to me. There may have been other names that they didn’t reveal—these were students, after all.

So, I have a name. Actually, I have several names, all of which I acknowledge and to be honest, am proud of. I appreciate the family connection coming from my given names. I also deeply appreciate the names given to me by my Kenyan friends. My names are a basic part of who I am; they mark my place in the world; they connect me with others and cultures. I would likely still be the same person with a different name but still, the names I have been given are important to me. I am careful to introduce myself with the appropriate name in the appropriate circumstance.

When I am in Kenya, for example, there isn’t all that much value in giving people my Canadian given and family names. I tend to use my Kenyan name, which, in the right circles is recognized. Most of the people in the church we work with there know me or know someone who knows me, at least as long as I use the Kenyan name. In Canada, I use some version of my given names—mind you, that doesn’t always go over well because many people find “Legassie” hard to pronounce.

I am who I am and my names are a part of who I am—and despite the increasingly anonymous culture we live in, I choose to be known by name. To be honest, I hate hiding behind anonymity. When faced with an anonymous survey, I often choose not to fill it out—and if I do fill it out, I often sign it.

When I read something that interests me, I try to discover who wrote it—I want a name to put with the thoughts—not a made up net identity but a real name. It doesn’t really matter what culture the name comes from expect that it can’t come from the internet culture. I tend to ignore stuff identified by strange letter and number combinations or timely slogans or some other way of hiding identity. If I have something to say, I am going to own it—and for me, part of owning it is to tell people who I really am. Not telling them who I really am suggests that I am not really committed to what I am saying or that what I am saying isn’t that important or, perhaps, I am a coward.

I am aware that this puts me at odds with a significant part of our culture, the part which prefers not to be known as they slash and trash and troll and generally spew vitriol and anger and disrespect all over the internet. It puts me at odds with the moral cowards who send anonymous letters to people they don’t like telling them to move or change or even die. My desire for names puts me on the opposite side of a culture that wants increasingly to be able to say and do whatever it wants without taking personal responsibility, which suggests to me that we are fast developing a culture that doesn’t want to deal with consequences.

I am probably a dinosaur because I want real names from real people. If I disagree with someone enough to speak or write it, I am going to let them know who I am. If people disagree with me enough to speak or write it, I want to know who they are. And if people don’t give me their name with their comments, I am going to ignore their comments. This, I think, it part of the personal honesty that my faith teaches. I am who I am and my name is part of who I am. If I am going to be honest, you need to know my name.

May the peace of God be with you.

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ANONYMOUS AGAIN

Many years ago, I was approached by a friend to serve on a committee. Committees involve meetings and since meetings are something I try to avoid as much as possible, I didn’t (and don’t) do committees all that much. My friend knew all that but still wanted to nominate me for the committee. He explained his reason for asking me.

The committee was dealing with some significant issues in our denominational life, issues that I and many others, including my friend, were concerned about. He felt that the views we held needed to be expressed and he believed that I was the person to express them on the committee because I said what I thought clearly and openly and wasn’t intimidated by disagreement.

Over the years, I have developed a reputation as one who sometimes (often? too often?) speaks the unpopular view. I have a tendency to see things differently at times and in the right circumstances, am willing to speak out. Early in my ministry career, I confess to speaking out often and loudly. These days, I still think a lot but tend to speak less often and less loudly. I let a lot of stuff pass by—I might have some thoughts and even some disagreement but I am not really interested in putting out the effort to comment or engage.

However, when I chose to engage, I am always going to do it openly and clearly. When I disagree with something or someone, I will make it clear that I disagree. I am not going to hide behind someone else; I am not going to use an anonymous web name; I am not going to become a “they” whispering around the edges. I will speak in my own voice, with my name openly and clearly attached. If need be, I will even put it in writing, clearly accepting responsibility for what I am saying.

I am aware that this puts me at odds with a major trend in our society. Thanks to the proliferation of social media, a great many people get to make a great many comments about a great many things without ever having to take any responsibility whatsoever. It is incredibly easy to comment when you can become anonymous commentator 219. People now have an powerful outlet for the hate, the anger, the vitriol, the mindless, the pointless, the ignorance that at one point might have been put in an anonymous letter but which more likely rarely if ever saw the light of day in another age.

But today, anyone can say anything, safe and secure behind the barrier of their keyboard and screen name. As Randy Legassie, I am responsible for what I write and say. But as anonymous commentator 219, I am no longer responsible—I am anonymous and cannot be held responsible for what I have said or written.

Obviously, some people find that incredibly liberating and freeing. But in the end, freedom without responsibility is never a good thing. Freedom without responsibility tends to being out the worst in people. We become rude, nasty, biased, prejudiced and just plain not nice. I gave up reading comment threads on websites a long time ago simply because they very quickly degenerated into the kind of interchange I used to require my kids to take a time out for engaging in.

There have been times in my ministry when my comments and opinions have cost me. I have been fired, passed over and ignored. It would have been much easier to be anonymous—I might not have suffered as much. But in becoming anonymous, I would have suffered even more because I would have stopped being me. I would have lost some essential part of who I am. My ideas might have been expressed but I wouldn’t really be there—I would be hiding behind some convenient shelter.

That may work for some—and I can even envision a few scenarios where in might be the appropriate way to proceed. Those scenarios, however, tend to involve bullets, death squads and unjust imprisonment. Most of the time, though, well, hiding behind anything or anyone really doesn’t cut it for me. If I am going to say it, I am going to say it knowing that I will be held responsible for what I am saying.

May the peace of God be with you.

GROWING PAINS

One of our church fund raising activities is a yard sale. This provides a time for people to get rid of stuff too good to trash but not good enough to keep, as well as replace it with a lot of other stuff that they probably don’t need and will probably donate to next year’s sale. Anyway, one of the items at the sale was an 8-track player and some 8-track tapes. Most of us there remembered 8-tracks, which had an active and flourishing life of 2.5 weeks.

Well, they actually lasted a bit longer than that but not much. Because I am a techie, I got thinking about the changes I have experienced just in that area: I began buying vinyl LPs and 45s, moved on to cassettes (I skipped 8-tracks completely), then switched to CDs and now, I have downloaded music on my phone which I can play through Bluetooth in the car. I like technology and so I kind of like the changes and new inventions and like to keep up—but it means that I have spent a lot of money over the years just to have music to listen to. Mind you, most of the time, I am more interested in the technology than the music.

The last 100 years or so have involved almost incredible technological change. Before the beginning of the 20th century, technology was basically static, with few significant changes. Gunpowder did introduce some changes but essentially, people lived, worked, made war and died pretty much the same for hundreds, perhaps thousands of years. But then, the 20th century changed everything. Life changed in dramatic and drastic ways because of the advances in technology. For me, the iconic picture of the change is an East African herder walking behind his sheep as has been done for hundreds of years but talking on his cell phone.

Not only are we inventing new technology but we are having to invent new rules of conduct to take technology into account. What is the polite thing to do when I am having coffee with a friend and my phone rings? Do I ignore it completely; check to see how important the incoming call is; apologize and answer at the table; apologize and leave the table to answer or simply answer and ignore my friend? Is it polite to carry on a private conversation on the phone while in a public place?

Can I take videos and pictures where ever and whenever I want and do whatever I want with them? When film camera technology was introduced, the general rule of thumb became that you could take pictures of people in public places and publish them because they were taken in a public setting. But the technology of film and publishing were relatively expensive and so most people never got their picture taken for generic publication. Today, however, technology assures us that we will all be able to get our 15 minutes of fame, whether we want it or not and whether we know it or now.

And while our culture is struggling with all this and more, I also struggle with technology and its implications from the perspective of my faith. Some questions are easy—I am not going to answer my phone during a worship service. In fact, I even try to remember to turn the sound off. I am not going to turn the phone off because the backup copy of my sermon is on it and my tablet has been showing signs of age lately.

But what happens when the person I am visiting gets upset with the fact that the Bible I am reading from happens to be on my phone? That has actually happened—not everyone shares my love of technology. Some find it scary and intimidating and reading the Bible from a phone is a bit much for them. Since I no longer carry a printed Bible, I generally ask if they have one I can read from, which seems to be an acceptable solution.

Technology is a real blessing—but the blessing hasn’t been totally integrated into either our culture or faith yet. It might seem like it has been completely integrated but the truth is that for all the technological advances and toys, we are still in the process of figuring out how everything fits together. I love the tech toys and what it allows me to do, but I think we need to spend some more time figuring out how it all fits into life.

May the peace of God be with you.

A CROW IN A TREE

It’s Monday morning, which means that yesterday was Sunday. I lead two worship services, one of which included a lunch afterwards. I preached twice and felt that both sermons went over fairly well. Attendance was good for both services, given the time of the year and all the other factors that determine worship attendance. I even managed to grab a short nap between the worship services. But when the day finished, I was finished. In fact, I was beyond finished because I stared the day tired—I lead a funeral service the day before that involved extra time visiting the family and preparing and so on. It probably doesn’t help that I have a really crazy week coming up with more to do that I have time to do it in. Nor does it help that this mid-winter day is dark, dreary and drippy and the thin layer of unskiiable snow is going to disappear probably before noon.

So, it’s now Monday morning and I am sitting in the living room, trying to figure out what to write for this blog post. So far, the most interesting thing to cross my mind has been the crow that landed on the top of one the pine trees I can see out the living room window—it is much easier to look out the window that at a blank computer screen. But even our normally active street is quiet on this Monday morning. The deer haven’t been around in a few days, the squirrels seem to be sleeping in today, it is too early for one of our neighbours to leave for his coffee group. So, I keep coming back to the empty computer screen.

Staring at a blank computer screen is marginally better than staring at a blank piece of paper, at least in my opinion. In the old days, back when the creative process involved a piece of paper and a pencil (I always worked in pencil until it was time for a final copy), there was much less distraction. A computer screen with no words on it at least has all the information supplied by the word processor program. It also holds the potential for some serious distraction—with just a few key strokes, I can play solitaire as I allow my sub-conscious mental process to wake up and get to work.

I can use a few other key stokes to open the whole world to me. The connection I have to the wider universe through the Internet means that I can discover anything I want. I haven’t tried it yet but I bet that if I type “cure for writer’s block” in a search engine, I will find tons of suggestions—all of which will provide welcome distraction from the demands of a blank word processor page.

I could even use the computer to access some of the many books that are in my various online accounts. While a lot of them are fiction, there are also a lot of books that have and will helped me with my professional development. Reading some of them would not only provide a distraction from the blank screen but might also provide an idea that I can steal adapt for my blog. I am sure that there must be lots of blog ideas in the as yet unread book that discusses the science behind the Star Wars universe.

But it is Monday morning—and so far, the crow in the tree top has been the only thing that has grabbed my attention and even it has gone somewhere else, probably to enjoy a breakfast at the local crow watering hole.

Monday mornings are difficult for those of us in ministry. We are probably at our lowest point physically, emotionally and spiritually. It is no coincidence that one popular ministry book many years ago was titled, Never Resign on Monday. I have modified that a bit for my particular situation to tell me Never decide to stop blogging on Monday.

It’s Monday morning—a drippy, dark, dreary Monday morning. I am tired as much from what I have to do this week as from what I did last week. I am not going to resign from the churches, I am not going to stop blogging. The crow in the pine tree obviously dealt with Monday morning and so will I.

May the peace of God be with you.

WHO IS LAUGHING?

Social media is a major force in our world. In general, I am not a great user of it, though. I know that there are some real possibilities for the church in social media and if I were at a different stage in my ministry, I might be more interested. But truthfully, beyond this blog, I don’t have a very large social media presence.

I am, however, a consumer of social media to some extent. There are a few blogs that I read regularly and many others that I check now and then. And, I have to confess to a growing addiction to YouTube, an addiction that began during the difficult time a few years ago when I was between jobs and somewhat depressed about being between jobs. It isn’t a debilitating addiction—I haven’t missed work because of it and don’t skimp on sermon preparation to watch but it has become a part of my life.

I have learned some things from YouTube—my attempt to put ceramic tile on a wall succeeded because of a YouTube video, with a little help from a TV home improvement program as well. But mostly, I watch because I find the videos funny or because they deal with stuff I am interested in. But I am also troubled by what I see, not because the videos reveal anything I didn’t know but because of something I do know but which seems heightened by the availability of social media.

We human beings are cruel and nasty and self-centered. And thanks to social media, we get to share our cruelty and nastiness and self-centeredness with the whole world, or at least that part of the world who chooses to go online. It may be just the videos that I choose to watch but it seems to me that a high proportion of social media videos involve people being put down or tricked or harmed—but since it is supposed to be a joke, they are not supposed to be upset.

What bothers me even more, I think, is the fact the people want to share the evidence of this cruelty, nastiness and self-centeredness so openly. It seems like we want attention so much that we will do anything to get it—and if that anything involves something that is less than flattering about someone else, no problem. Even worse, the victims of many of the cruel, nasty and self-centered stuff seem as happy to get the attention as the perpetrator.

I am probably showing my age and am probably sounding like a grumpy old man but I am troubled by the attitudes and actions I sometimes see. When attention comes at the cost of the dignity and value of an individual, it is really worth it? Is getting the social media spotlight on me worth degrading myself or others? As troubling as it seems to me, the answer appears to be yes for many people—getting views justifies whatever.

And truthfully, we can’t actually blame social media. People have always been willing to use others to get attention for themselves. The stories of what we did or said to so and so have always been told—over campfires, over coffee, over a beer, over a tea, in the kitchen, in the living room, in the church foyer. All social media has done is give us access to a larger audience, giving us more attention and making our cruelty, nastiness and self-centeredness evident to many more people. What might have gone no further than the kitchen table now circles the world endlessly.

I am not going to stop social media—truthfully, I am not even going to stop watching YouTube. I doubt very much if I can reform human nature enough to keep the cruel, nasty and self-centered out of social media. As human beings we are loving, caring and considerate—and we are also cruel, nasty and self-centered. All of us are a blend of both. But in the end, the more we feed and encourage the dark side of our natures, the worse it is for us, others and the world in general because “… those who plow evil and those who sow trouble reap it.” (Job 4.8 NIV)

May the peace of God be with you.