By Lydia Kelsey Bucklin
In Chapter 1 of Parker Palmer's The Company of Strangers, Palmer talks about the need for each of us to engage in a public life. He does not mean a political life, which is the way the term is mostly used these days. Rather, he is calling us to engage with the strangers among us in daily life.
I wondered, as I began reading, whether this book would be relevant to me. (After all, it was written when I was still in diapers.) Palmer reflects on a fragmented society, one where people walk past one another, getting lost in the chaos of the busy street. He talks about the loneliness of modern life, which at the time was the 1980's.
So... Here we are 30 years later. Have things changed?
In a way, of course, we are more connected because of the advances in technology. I have more than 1,000 friends on Facebook, most I have met, maybe even for just a few minutes. Classmates from the past 30 years, a young woman from Israel who my husband and I met on the airplane flying back from our honeymoon, the woman who sells me shoes at Von Maur, and those people whom I admire and want to feel connected to even if I may never meet them. In my generation it is totally culturally acceptable to "friend" strangers, and it happens all the time.
I had a strange encounter recently when I was in the hotel bar at a conference and was introduced to someone who I was already friends with on Facebook. Has that ever happened to you? It's really kind of bizarre, because I feel as though I know a lot about this person, but really am just meeting her for the first time.
I went back and forth in my head as to whether to tell her we were already "friends," because I got the feeling she had no idea that we were. Ultimately I chickened out. I felt uncomfortable, because when it came down to it, I didn't actually know her. Until that night at the bar I didn't know her mannerisms, or her laugh, or that she swore like a sailor (even before having a couple of cocktails). But she'd been in my prayers. When I heard about the loss of her dear friend through a Facebook feed months back I had intentionally held her in prayer.
It's a strange public life we now interact with.
A few of my Facebook friends have posted that they're checking out of Facebook for Lent. "See you in 40 days," they write. And I know that giving up Facebook for them is a major sacrifice. Perhaps it's what they feel called to do this holy season of Lent. It's not my choice though. Instead, I plan to embrace it more fully. When people ask for positive thoughts or even prayer, I will be more intentional about reaching out and letting them know that I take that seriously. The line between friend and stranger is getting a bit blurry as we move into this new way of being. And I think that's a good thing.
Thank you for your reflections, Lydia. Technology has its pluses and minuses. It's complicated, although on balance I agree with you -- I think it's a good thing. You bring up some great points about how we can _choose_ to harness technology for positive public engagement.
ReplyDeleteON THE PLUS SIDE:
Like you, I have "met" people in person after friending them on Facebook. While it's no substitution for face-to-face introduction, a previous virtual meeting can allow for a more immediate in-person connection. If common interests, friends, and experiences have been established, I often find it easier to move into meaningful dialog about serious life stuff.
ON THE MINUS SIDE:
As for Palmer's reflection on a society in which people walk past one another, it's still an issue 30 years later. I wonder if it's gotten even worse. I wonder whether living inside our technology bubbles makes us even more likely to ignore strangers in need? I am in the habit of ignoring spam emails and random invitations to join Facebook games. I wonder whether that habit numbs me from the discomfort of facing the needs of strangers in my midst.
Recently, my friend Linda Kroon said, "Public engagement is more than just pressing the 'Like' button on Facebook." That makes me wonder: how many 'Likes' does it take to get to the center, the heart, of _real_ engagement with strangers?
Perhaps the answer is in our mindful use of technology. It's easy to float through, using phones, emails, and apps without intention. But what are some specific ways we can use these tools to blossom into our most publicly-engaged selves, both as individuals and as faith communities?
Jennifer Masada
New Song Coralville