
Back up. If you sit too close to the TV it will hurt your eyes. If you are a certain age, this warning will sound familiar. One might wonder about the percentage of times such a warning was really about protecting eyeballs as much as it was about getting kids to back up so everyone could see. In his book Digital Liturgies, Samuel James sounds a different warning. If you sit too close to the internet it will hurt your brain. His more nuanced way of stating it is “rather than being a neutral tool, the internet (particularly the social internet) is an epistemological environment – a spiritual and intellectual habitat – that creates in its members particular ways of thinking, feeling, and believing” (9). James’s argument is that the internet is not simply a neutral tool whose value and worth is determined by the content we obtain through it. Rather it is a technology that molds and shapes our thinking, often with the user unaware, in ways that are harmful to what is godly.
In the first half of the book, James makes an argument for the true meaning of wisdom, and how the digital world obscures it. In opposition to the world’s shallow view of the word, he defines Christian wisdom as “living a life that responds correctly to reality” (20). To be wise one must be realistic about the world, oneself, and most importantly about fearing the Lord. It is the ability to see God for who he is and to respond accordingly (23). Part of this wisdom is living as an embodied creature. We have a givenness from God (28). The internet shapes our thinking in ways that detach us from that reality and separate ourselves from our bodies and the given nature of them. He cites several historical examples of how advances in technology have changed our ways of thinking and living. The book calls on us to consider how the internet changes our thinking, not if it changes our thinking.
In the second half of the book, he presents five specific digital liturgies that shape our thinking and attack the true meaning of wisdom. Each is presented with evidence of their reality and effect. Each is addressed with thoughts for the Christian to combat them.
I would like to ask James whether his concern about the disembodied nature of the internet was ever raised in regard to other forms of media. Few would disagree that the mark of a good movie or novel is that it allows the reader to be whisked away in mind to another place, time and life. Does this ever cross that line in opposition to godly wisdom? My guess would be the main difference he would note is the immersive and assumed nature of the internet in our society. A good movie’s credits roll, and we turn it off. A great book we are reading has a final page and we set it on a bookshelf. But the disembodied pull of the internet is constantly tugging at us.
Each digital liturgy he presented is worthy of some examination and thought. His description of the internet’s avenue to shame others rises to the top. As I write this, the internet is abuzz with the story of a CEO whose affair with his female colleague came to light because of a kiss cam at a concert. You can’t escape the story online at present. People are talking about it, making memes out of it, and mocking it. One might wonder at the just nature of this display of shame. How many people blasting the event online are breaking the Sixth Commandment themselves? But the internet doesn’t encourage that kind of thoughtful self-reflection. James would make the case that this is a clear example of how the internet has become an outlet for shame in a world that no longer knows where to go with its guilt. The internet even encourages it. Go ahead and unload. It will even allow you to avoid the gnawing feeling inside that you too could be shamed if the whole world saw some of your actions.
A strength of his writing is found in sections where James suggests corrections to these digital liturgies. While it would be easy to slip into a listing of simple tips and tactics to address these issues, James stresses the Gospel in most instances. I don’t need to create my own self on the internet. God has declared me his child in Christ. I don’t need to find an outlet for my shame by piling on others. The shame and guilt of my sins has been placed on Christ. We don’t need the distractions of the minutiae of the internet to keep us from realizing we have no real peace. We have peace in Christ. Where his solutions focus on paths of sanctification (better habits that fit who we are, our prayers, etc.) he does a solid job of connecting true Gospel motivation to such steps. My sole criticism in this regard is the absence of the Sacrament of Communion as one such source of forgiveness and support. As one addresses the need for embodiment and community, the Sacrament rightly begs for consideration.
One topic that would be worth further thought and discussion is the relationship between the divine service and technology. James is a strong proponent of recovering embodied presence. I highly doubt his argument would be that posting sermons and services online is a bad practice. However, he highlights the need for gathering together (176). No matter how high quality your online resources are, no matter how convenient you make them, no matter the desire to have your online presence as an appealing first contact point with someone, such things will not replace the need to gather together with others. Even with the best of intentions, the medium affects the way something is received. If you have watched or listened to a sermon online recently, you’ve probably felt that pull a few moments in to do something other than keep listening. It doesn’t mean there is no value there or that you aren’t paying attention, but it bears witness to our brains receiving the information differently. Further conversation about how this relates to the divine service would surely be fruitful.
James sounds a balanced alarm. He does not expect it to be a reality for anyone to completely detach themselves from the internet. For most, this is practically an impossibility. Even if you could, you would be leaving behind your neighbors who are still conditioned by its way of thinking (168). He is also fair in pointing out that in no way does he consider himself an expert at overcoming these struggles. He places himself right there next to you as you read. It creates an encouraging tone even in moments where you might feel convicted.
I found Digital Liturgies a helpful resource and would encourage others to read it. Its greatest value to me was that it drew my attention to some challenges that I knew were there but lurked beneath the surface of my realization. Why are there moments where it has become more difficult to read deeply and for a sustained period? It’s not simply because I am busy with other important tasks. Some of the factors James highlighted have made it more difficult. Why do I have people in my life whose company I genuinely enjoy in person, but I find myself wondering if I even know that person as I see what he or she posts online? Why do I scroll mindlessly through my phone, sometimes shortly after I had rebuked myself for doing just that and set my phone aside? Many readers will recognize these issues and others, and James helps one to dig into underlying causes behind them. Since we live in an online age, it’s worth getting our hands on all the Christian wisdom we can. This book supplies some of it.