Ministering from Within the Machine

This spring, a friend introduced me to the writer Paul Kingsnorth through an article titled "Against Christian Civilization," which consequently sent me down a rabbit hole of his writings, lectures, and personal testimony. Paul has a fascinating story rooted in environmentalism and spiritual longing, which set him on a path through Zen Buddhism, Daoism, mythology, Sufism, traditionalism, Alexandrian Wicca, and concluded in Eastern Orthodox Christianity. He is one of many recent examples of how Christ continues to draw unlikely people to Himself, such as noted storyteller and mythologist Martin Shaw and Wikipedia co-founder Larry Sanger.

In many ways, this spring has been about finding comfort within the tension and the dichotomous nature of our present life. It's a topic Mr. Kingsnorth has been exploring in his own way since coming to faith; much of what he has written and spoken about has focused on a concept he calls "The Machine." It's a term he has borrowed from authors before him to describe the technological systems that power, shape, and ultimately control our modern world.

Tolkien distrusted the machine. As Christians, there is a natural tension with it. Its powerful allure competes with God, drawing our thoughts and attention away, both intentionally by design and unintentionally through systemic by-products, and its tendency, in Tolkien's words, to replace “all that is green and good." Though beyond that, for some, it whispers a lie —the oldest lie: You can become gods on your terms. Technology can empower you to overcome all of your human limitations, even death; at least, that is the hope and goal for some. And the machine appears to be gathering speed with numerous forces pressing on the accelerator, attempting to leave God in the dust.

So, what is the answer to the problem of this ever-increasing technological world? Resist. Paul's counterpoint to Silicon Valley kingdoms is the ascetic lives of the hermits of Mount Athos, following in the traditions of many of our church fathers—men and women who resisted the trappings of the world and dedicated themselves wholly to pursuing God. In their lives, they drew boundary lines, and we need to do the same with technology by practicing a form of digital asceticism.

Seasons have rhythms, and my spring rhythm was one of the long hours at the computer, followed by a retreat to my reading nook. My rabbit hole on Mr. Kingsnorth led me into a stream of books on the monks of Mt. Athos, the Eastern Orthodox Church, and the early saints. Stories and places that I embarrassingly knew very little about. I have a connection and admiration for brothers and sisters who were and are as far removed from the machine as possible, while I am deep within its bowels—a push and a pull.

As I reflect on my journey, one might say the machine seduced me as a child. I was captivated by video games from the moment I laid eyes on the enchanting glow of their arcade screens. I held them, and they had me. As I grew, I delved deeper and deeper into their inner workings, endeavoring to understand them and eventually shape them. Now, I do, but am I bound to them?

Because of my attachment to video games, you might think I disagree with Mr. Kingsnorth's conclusions. I don't. I, too, hear the small, quiet voice of God beckoning me away from the screen each day, and I do my best to listen. I admit it's so much easier to commune with Him in nature.

Nevertheless, even Paul has not been able to unplug from the machine completely. He says, "We're all enclosed in it, and we love it, and we hate it, and we fear it all at the same time. [...] We live in the culture of the machine."

And so, each morning, I climb into the machine because it sustains my family, scratches my creative itch, and satisfies my intellectual curiosities. It is where God has called me, or at least it is where He is graciously using me. Perhaps Daniel and his friends had a similar sensation within the Babylonian machine. Nevertheless, before I climb in, I ask God to empty me of myself and fill me with Himself so that I may create in His image rather than my own. I ask for help to minister from within the machine to those who are with me within its walls. And whenever and wherever possible, to allow me to help steer this juggernaut in the direction of our Creator.