Archive for Social media

Working for our daily bread

Lord's Prayer postcard printed by P. Sander, NY. 1908

Lord’s Prayer postcard
printed by P. Sander, NY.
1908

 

Today is a snow day, but before I get suited up for shoveling the white stuff, I’ll share a bit of Christian material culture that I picked up last week.

This postcard is one of a series printed in 1908 by Philip Sander. Postcard sets of The Lord’s Prayer and The Ten Commandments were popular during the early 20th century. Each card would depict a different petition or commandment so that a person could collect or send the entire set.

Such cards are still fairly common out in the world of ephemera collectors, and you can pick them up for not too much money if you’re interested. I’m fascinated by the way they reveal the values and assumptions of religious people in an earlier age. With one foot in the world of religion and the other in the world of commerce, these cards may not show the church’s official positions, but as images that were marketed and purchased, they can tell us a lot. A successful postcard has an easily understood, high-impact image. A viewer ought to be able to take it all in quickly and feel something that makes them want to share (that is, buy and send) the postcard. They’re are a lot like today’s social media in that respect.

I was drawn to this particular postcard because, instead of showing us people eating, this one presents two different ways to earn our daily bread. It’s more complicated than just “provide us food.” There’s the farmer harvesting wheat, and the businessman talking on the phone with factories that are likely intended to represent flour mills in the background. It’s a country life/city life juxtaposition that speaks to the urbanization of America which had been taking place since the 19th century; and it unites the two men by depicting the farm-to-mill chain of production.

Unlike the pictures of people saying grace at the table (which are often quite lovely), or the sentimental images of angels feeding destitute children, this Lord’s Prayer postcard clearly shows people working for their daily bread. “Give us our daily bread” becomes “Reward our daily labors with bread.” The card doesn’t tug at the heart strings, but it does convey the ideas that “work is noble” and “work is important.” It all feels very American and very Protestant.

There’s a lot to like about this card, though I can’t really call it art. The curls on the dividing line are a nice touch that give an impression of time, and I like all the detailed office supplies on the desk. And then there are the roses on the windowsill adding a touch of beauty to that skyline of factory smoke!

 

Spots and wrinkles on social media

Brother URL greets you The Monastery of Christ in the Desert

Brother URL greets you
The Monastery of Christ in the Desert

 

I’ve been thinking about this post for a long time. Writing it feels sort of like telling a friend their breath is bad. You could just let it go, but they really need to know, and it’s better to hear it from someone who cares.

Over the past few years, a lot of clergy and denominational staff have discovered social media and embraced it as a communications tool. You can now read the postings of pastors, bishops, news services, seminaries, and historical societies. And these church professionals are just like everyone else, with learning curves and subsequent successes and failures. They deserve to be cut a certain amount of slack. But the Church as a whole is far enough along the path of digital engagement that we can stand some self-examination, and I see some behaviors that make me uncomfortable.

Of course, there are many wonderful, inspiring people and ministries online. There are people of good will and great faith. Unfortunately, our human failings are also quite visible, and even amplified online, and when those failings are manifest by Christians, our ministry to the world suffers. We form cliques and echo chambers; we are prideful and self-promoting; we lack hospitality and genuine openness.

The world wide web is not just a communications tool; it is a channel for the Spirit where we can unite the Church and welcome those who do not yet know God. It is a space for connection, for outreach, for prayer, prophesy, and forgiveness. It is the world.

And so I ask a difficult question:

Does your online presence witness to the unity of the Spirit or does it promote your ministry, your denomination, your causes? 

I doubt the answer will be simple. We all have our own work to do. We all seek our own tribe. Leaders are accustomed to leading–to being “on” whenever they’re in a public space.

But if the Church and her clergy could lead by example, and manifest online that love that binds us all in Christ, our witness would be strengthened. Small changes would make a difference.

Here are a few questions that may help us think about the degree to which we help or hinder the Spirit’s work online. I hope it will stimulate thought and increase mindful practice within the Networked Church, that blessed company of faithful people.

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As we each consider our habits and practices online, we might ask…

1) Do I ever look at the posts that appear in my Facebook news feed or do I only go to my own timeline?

2) Do I follow anyone on Twitter who is not of equal or higher ecclesiastical rank?

3) Do I follow anyone who is not at least as well-known or popular as I am?

4) Do I follow anyone from another denomination?

5) Do I ever share anything about another denomination and cite it as exemplary?

6) Do I ever hold a conversation on social media or do I only offer my opinion and pronouncements? Do I listen and respond as well as speak?

7) Is there anything I can do to increase my sense of others’ humanity in the virtual world? Is there anything I can do to support individuals I meet on social media?

8) Am I humble? Am I thoughtful? Do I appear online as a learner as well as a teacher?

9) Do my postings ever deride or ridicule another person?

10) Do I know why I am on social media?

The Saint on a Swing: Proculus of Verona

St. Proculus escapes Verona
9th c. fresco
Church of San Procolo, Naturno

 

Lately I’ve been feeding my head by following a number of medievalists on Twitter. They post wonderful images from manuscripts and paintings that I’ve never seen before and would likely never find without their help. Here’s an intriguing fresco from the Church of San Procolo courtesy of Erik Kwakkel, a Medieval book historian at Leiden University, The Netherlands.

Proculus of Verona was a 4th century bishop who survived the Great Persecution of Christians by Diocletian. This painting shows him being lowered from a window on a swing. If you’d like to see more of the interior of this tiny church, watch the video tour embedded below. I can’t translate the Italian, but it will give you sense of the space.
 

Hanging out on the Twitter stream: #anglicanfilms

If you think that Twitter is all about what your friends ate for breakfast, then either you’re not on Twitter or I’m afraid you have the wrong friends. The Episcopalians and Anglicans have been having a bit of fun lately trading jokes with #anglicanfilms. Here are some of my favorites: