Will the Kindle further isolate readers?

I do not have the disposable income to purchase an Amazon Kindle. Some of my more technically-minded friends love it. Brian says it helps him read more. Justin and Wes enjoy theirs too. I am a book lover, so at some point, I see myself with a later generation of it. My back would not hurt from dragging around a 1400 page Tolstoy or a Bible with commentary. When I am older and losing eyesight, I can adjust the font on my Kindle without having to by those atlas-sized large print books. Plenty of trees could be saved as newspapers and college text books are converted to electrons. The Kindle and the other reader products it has and will inspire are the future of reading.

There is a traditionalist in me, however. The traditionalist loves me smell of a library, the touch of paper, covers and cover art. My joke about the the Kindle has been, "but what about my pretentious bookshelf?" I do have a pretentious bookshelf. I used to be able to brag that I had read everything on it, until one of my pastors gave away a whole bunch of seminary books. Now I have a bunch of seminary-ready books and commentaries that I will never get to short of a masters degree (if I had the disposable income for one of those...).

Yes, there is an element of pride in my bookshelf, though plenty of other Washingtonians would find it quaint. I have, however, a nobler reason for my bookshelf. I like books as conversation starters. I want someone to come over to my house and learn more about me through my literature. I want people to say, "oh, you read Chesterton? I do to. What did you think of The Everlasting Man?" or something to the sort. Chances are, if I have been to your house, I have done the same thing. To know me is to know the stories and thoughts I like to explore. A good place to start would be my bookshelf. Would a Kindle further isolate you from me? Sure, we could ask each other about what we read, what we have read. Regardless, on my bookshelf, there is further information that I would forget or refuse to tell you, worth one thousand of my words.

With the Kindle, reading becomes more private, especially for those of us introverts who prefer not to volunteer our information, but secretly want you to know us. Do you every look at what people are reading on the DC Metro? I do, and I am sure people notice me. The older black ladies and I read Bibles. The hurried young professionals, including me, read The Economist. I share a small connection, usually silent and unacknowledged, with anyone reading the same book as me. There is another connection to people who read different things than I. Can you judge a person by the cover of the book they read? I know I do. This is not the sort of condemnation the Bible warns us about, but it makes me more curious about the person. It says something about their interests, their feelings, what they want to know and what kind of story they like. A practical economist might ask if any of these connections have turned into a real friendship. Of course not. But these connections, however fleeting, are significant. They make us human. Actual books humanize my follow Metro-travelers (and Barnes & Noble browsers, and Peregrine loiterers) in a way a bunch of drab, electronic folders cannot. This is a daily source of comfort to me, as a train hurries me to work.

Justin also points out that it is difficult to share books with the Kindle. I am sure there are good reasons for this. I could imagine a publisher's or author's reluctance for their books to go the way of the album. They should remember, however, that book sharing is good marketing. It is also another good way to connect with people. It requires a certain openness. "I loved this book, and I imagine you would too, " or "I've wanted to try out that author, may I borrow your book?" Bonds form through sharing things, and there is nothing better than sharing a book.

I talked about judging people by the cover of the book they are reading. Keep in mind, we do judge books by their covers, and the Kindle takes away the cover. My Metro-browsing is also good marketing for publishers and authors. I might see a book on a subject that interests me, or I could be reminded of an author I have been meaning to try, or an issue magazine I want to read. Likewise, I happen to like commercial art. Design, of course, is "in," and book design is very appealing to me. There are some very creative book covers out there, and, yes it is shameless marketing, but looking at covers in and of themselves is no small pleasure.

Since we can assume the Kindle is the future, I hope its producers and readers consider its potentially isolating effects. One suggestion I thought of is putting a screen on the front that displays the title of the book or paper you are reading. If old-fashioned books invite connecting-curiosity, why not design the Kindles to do the same? Second, we readers need to actively share what we read. Book clubs will continue. What if we read aloud to one another? This was what many did instead of television in the 1800s, and what better way to bond family and friends? I got the idea from this morning's New York Times, which I read on my Kindle-sized laptop. Verlyn Klinkenborg comments on the "lost art of reading aloud." Yes, I know, who has that kind of time? But in a room with people you love and a mutually loved book, if everyone actually took it seriously, imagine the learning, the bonding, the discussion afterwards?

The image of the bookworm is the bespecticaled loner crouched in a corner with a book that will soon be with a small machine. This image is not without truth. But books are full of too many ideas, jokes, thoughts and stories not to share. Let's bond with one another in our reading.

How God may be drawing you, and why Christianity is better than vague spirituality

New York Times statistic/chart guru Charles M. Blow has noted that people who grow up in families with no religious affiliation are increasingly turning to religion, much to the chagrin of his “non-religious” friends. He cites evidence why this should be preposterous. The Bible, apparently, is full of contradictions, evolution is irrefutable, and neuro-research is beginning to suggest that God is merely a product of our minds. However, people have a vague since of spirituality that draws them to community, ritual and worship. To sum it up, Mr. Blow’s non-religious friends should accept at a distance the comfortable notion of a vague spirituality that might draw someone who was once perfectly reasonable through the doors of a church, mosque or synagogue.

First, I want to address his assumptions of the unreasonableness of Christianity. I cannot speak for any other religion, and anyone who takes religion seriously rejects the idea that they are merely different flavors of the same thing. But too many have accept Christianity based on reason to allow Mr. Blow’s crudely-dismissive generalizations to carry weight. I get it, though. I get why it’s cool to dismiss religion as a whole. The loudest voices seem to be the extremes – the Pat Robertsons and Osama Bin Ladins of this world, the violent and the reactionary. Perhaps religion was more palatable when the prophetic voices were those of Martin Luther King, Mother Theresa or Mahatma Gandhi. It takes a spiritual depth and a certain amount of patience, dare I say faith, to explore beyond the loudest voices, and I fear Mr. Blow’s hypotheses only add to the noise – an intellectually acceptable talk-radio on the pages of a national newspaper. Let me address his assumptions in turn.

There may very well something in our brain that makes in all-too natural for us to come up with the idea of a God. I have no intention in disputing the latest findings of neuroscience. To assume, however, that this proves that God does not exist is a philosophical fallacy. That science can explain why anyone would believe God exists does not explain away God any more than a scientific explanation of why I need and want love would explain away my wife. Any intellectually honest exploration of Christianity must separate the question of God’s existence from our ability to come up with the idea of him. Moreover, that our brains may have an innate God-picture could suggest that there is a creator who would want to be found by faith. It might be another way to look at these ideas.

The same principle applies to evolution. If evolution is irrefutable, is God disproved? Francis Collins, who led the effort to map the human genome and is a committed Christian, certainly does not think so. Neither did C.S. Lewis. The lines drawn on the creation vs. evolution debate are not the same as atheists vs. Christians. These are strands as Christian interpretation of scripture and understanding of natural history. A belief in science ought not dissuade anyone from a belief in Christianity.

I have the biggest beef with Mr. Blow’s assertion that the Bible is full of contradictions. Yes, there is scholarship that would support this. But it ignores twenty centuries of scholarship, including scholarship that has met, blow for blow, the skeptical writings of the last centuries. (N.T. Wright being one of the latest and most popular) As someone who has read the Bible daily for more than a dozen years, I find it most astounding that, with four excited evangelists and a few letter-writing apostles telling the same story, the Bible is remarkably consistent. If you want to explore Christianity, do not start with the dismissive statements of Charles M. Blow. Given that any provocative trend in Biblical scholarship is a sure best-seller, you probably should not start with books about the Bible, even those that I would recommend. Rather, explore the Bible itself – the Gospels, Paul’s letters. Read it with someone else. You might just find the spiritual nurture you have been longing for.

Finally, I want to say a few words about Mr. Blow’s nod towards a vague, comfortable spirituality. Spirituality is ultimately relational, and Mr. Blow acknowledges this. He notes that people are seeking community and religious ritual – things that seem establish relationship with God and other people. Should this surprise us that these spiritual needs are drawing people to the pews, rather than Damascus road experiences? Jesus said that the two greatest Torah commands were to love God and to love our neighbors. Paul writes to the Corinthians that his ministry is a ministry of reconciliation, that through Jesus we are reconciled to God. Spirituality needs to work in relationship, with God and neighbor.

This means that a vague since of spirituality, rounded out with good vibes, picnics and volunteer work, is not going to cut it, even if it is appealingly inclusive. A true relationship with God is a commitment, and a commitment has cost. The vague spirituality that Mr. Blow and others espouse, is a foretaste (sometimes a wonderful foretaste) that will not ultimately satisfy. The vague spiritualist reminds me of an immature young man in a long-term relationship who is afraid to commit to marriage. I know this young man, because I have been him before. The cost, the sacrifices, the changes, the entrance of this new person that will have a say in the way I act, think, wake and sleep. The dating can fulfill urges without actually changing me. But we know that ultimate intimacy will never work with one eye on the door. Like dating, vague spirituality is an important first step, and the immature, along with, often, with the rejected, the hurt and the broken, prefer to stay there. But intimacy with God awaits, a spiritual beckoning for the humble, leading where blood and body were broken with great cost, where we rise again, full, fulfilled, abundant.