de-teching

One of the ministries I have launched at the church since I started is a Sunday school class (that one day in the not-too-or-much-too-distant-future will be oh-so-much-more) for singles aged 18-34. Other than the singleness thing, it’s right up my alley. I still fall towards the middle of that age range. For now.

It’s a small class. We live in a rural area. But two of the class members live by their cell phones. Literally. One of the things that came up in our lesson last week was the things we consider essential to our lives. And this one guy could not fathom life apart from his cell phone. He doesn’t get signal where he lives at the moment, except when his phone is on a particular spot on a particular window sill. So he leaves it there. All the time. And just looks to see who calls/texts him and then calls them back on the very-lame landline.

Before moving from where my wife and I went to seminary to where we live now, I had a cell phone on my hip all the time. I disconnected my landline phone and lived quite well without it for several years. I never got into the PDA-crossover phones that do everything except type term papers for you, but I lived by my phone and did not want to be apart from it. I felt lost without it. I could not imagine driving anywhere for fear that something would happen and I would need to be able to call someone. (How did humanity survive for thousands of years without these contraptions, and how did the twentieth century endure cars, planes, traffic, accidents, and all the other nightmare scenarios without them I must now wonder.)

Not all that long ago, I joined one of those social-networking sites and quickly became obsessed with checking it and finding out how many friends I had and whether I was reconnecting with some long-lost friend from a prior existence that my life would be crashed to pieces without if I did not reconnect RIGHT THEN over the Internet.

So you can probably tell from my tone where this is heading. (If the title of the post didn’t tip you off to begin with.)

I am quite contentedly de-teching my life. My wife and I own one cell phone. It’s a pre-paid phone. We buy one of those cards that last for a year, have a plan that lets us roll-over unused portions to the next cycle, and spent a grand total of about $50 last year (not including the remainder of the card, which was supposed to rollover but we lost when I forgot to renew in time, don’t tell my inlaws) on a cell phone. I know people who spend $50 in a day on text messaging alone. Sometimes we even turn the phone on! (Assuming we’ve remembered to take it with us when we are going somewhere.) And, amazingly, life continues unscathed. The sun still rises. The world turns. There are clear days and rainy days. And when someone needs to get hold of me, they manage to find a way. AMAZING!

And I have decided to stop obsessing over the social networking thing. Sure, it’s nice to be able to know a little bit about people I know who are now scattered across creation. But I don’t keep in touch with any of them any better. And I certainly haven’t discovered any new friends in the social circles I engage in my off-line life!

Anyway, this is a rambling post with no real point, other than to say that I am trying to simplify and detach myself from technology’s stranglehold on my life. We’ll see how it goes.

Discovery

Since my second semester of college, I have pursued a certain path. That semester, an adjunct professor talked to me after a class called Introduction to Christian Ministry and highly encouraged me to keep up with my studies, let nothing stop me, and one day complete a Ph.D. He thought I was intellectually capable and had a lot to offer to the world of academia (and beyond) all that from a couple of hours a week in an introductory ministry course.

Ever since then, that has been my path. Well, I will say that I am pretty sure I was already on that path before he said that, but he certainly did nothing to dissuade me from putting that “Dr.” in front of my name. I idolized my college professors. Not necessarily any one of them particularly, but the group of them who were in the building that taught in my Biblical Studies major. They worked hard to stay abreast of their respective academic interests, they cared deeply for their students, and they spent their Sundays as church deacons, interim pastors, Sunday school teachers, or on church staff part-time at little and not-so-little churches around our county and beyond.

And I wanted to do all of that, too.

Seminary was a disappointment for me. Mostly because my undergraduate professors did such a good job of imparting the kind of education one goes to seminary to gain. I could have gone to a school that offered advanced standing for those with biblical studies undergraduate degrees. I could have gone to one that offered a wide variety of electives and specialties. But I didn’t. I went to a small school with two tracks: the track designed for a pastor, and the track that took the pastor track and removed the preaching and language components.

So I was bitter and frustrated most of the way through seminary. It didn’t really dawn on me until I was in a Greek exegesis course in seminary (after 18 hours of Greek as an undergrad – there wasn’t much new here for me), and I discovered how much I truly dislike Greek exegesis. I understood the need for it. I understood WHAT to do and even HOW to do it. I just did not understand why I should do it.

It’s only taken another four years for me to realize that the same goes for a Ph.D. I understand the need for it. I understand what and how. I even understand why – at least for other people. It’s just not for me. And I have finally been able to let go of striving for it. It’s wonderful to be free of the burden of the next degree, the next step toward finally achieving what I was “destined” to achieve.