Instead of carved statues of Adonis or Venus, we have created for each person his own hand-held idol, designed with amazing ingenuity and carved with utmost skill from precious materials. Each one of us has a little god who offers us the world in the palm of our hand.
While I was reading from the prophet Isaiah during Morning Prayer, the imprecation, “they go in disgrace who carve images,” jumped off the page.
I’ve been traveling in Italy and the universal ubiquity of the smart phone hit home. Everybody has one. Chinese tourists, American sightseers, Muslim women in burkhas, children and old women, beautiful Italian teens, thugs with tattoos, and charming African nuns.
Everybody has an iPhone and everybody has their nose stuck to the screen. Not only are their noses stuck to the screen, but there seems to be an odd obsession with taking photographs of everything all the time. (Remember when you only had 24 or 36 shots in a roll of film?)
In the Uffizi, crowds of tourists do not stand in front of Botticelli’s Primavera in awesome wonder. They snap a quick selfie and move on, thirsty for the next famous picture and another snapshot. Crowds of Chinese people trudged through the Forum not taking it all in, but filming themselves with selfie sticks—as if the experience was not the experience but the experience was the experience of filming oneself experiencing the experience.
I was baffled.
I asked an artist friend about this odd human behavior, “Why do they do this? Why do they stand before Michelangelo’s David and take a snap? They can buy a postcard or poster. It’s a famous image. They can see it anytime.” My friend turned out to be not only an artist but a speculative moral theologian. “I think they take the photographs because they want to possess that thing. They don’t want a postcard or poster. They want it on their phone. They want David for their own. They want that priceless, unbelievable masterpiece in their pocket.”
This brought back the verse from the beginning of all things. In the garden, our first mother eyed the forbidden fruit, and the storyteller says, “She looked on it with desire.” She desired it. She wanted it. She wanted to own it. So she reached out and took it.
In doing so she gave her allegiance to the subtle but serpentine gentleman who seduced her in the first place. She said, “You can have me if you give me what I desire.” That set up the dynamic of idolatry, for what were those ancient carved images but representations of the demonic demigods—fellow fallen angels—who promised their devotees the fulfillment of their desire? “Worship me. Be my slave, and I will give you prosperity, peace, pleasure, and power.”
You have heard of the “temple prostitutes” who gave themselves to serve the demons of desire. They prostituted themselves.
And so do we. Instead of carved statues of Adonis or Venus, images of horned chimeras, monstrous hybrids or six-armed, blood-sucking goddesses from hell, we have technology. Designed with amazing ingenuity and carved with utmost skill from precious materials, we have created for each person his own hand-held idol. Each one of us has a little god who offers us the world in the palm of our hand.
I hear you protest: “Come now, Father. You exaggerate. You are playing the Jeremiah. Your Amish roots are showing. These gadgets are tools—no more than that. Hi-tech to be sure, but really no more and no less dangerous than any other tool… a corkscrew, a jackhammer, a chainsaw, a bulldozer, or a ballpoint pen.”
Yes, perhaps, but these gadgets offer much more than a spade, a hair dryer, a microwave oven, or a trowel. They seduce us by offering our heart’s desire, do they not? These screens offer us all the knowledge in the world. They tempt us with pornography or endless bargains in the online, always open, global shopping mall. They entertain us with endless worlds of unreality, drawing us away from apprehending the present moment. They take us away from the people who long for our attention to give homage to other more attractive distractions on the screen. They demand our time, and what is time but the measure of our life itself?
Corkscrews and staplers don’t do that. But idols do. The mischievous demigod within the idol offered endless entertainment, pleasure, power, and prosperity. He offered the deadly fruit of our desire, and like our first parents, we took the fruit and did eat.
If I am right, then what shall we do, all we who worship the idol Phone? Like the prophet Elijah shall we summon all the prophets of Baal to Mt Carmel? Shall we slaughter them and let not one of them escape? Shall we come down the mountain with Father Moses, smash the golden iPhone calves, ground them up, mix them in water, and make the repentant apostates drink the foul concoction? Shall we do as the iconoclasts of old and smash the false gods?
I think not. Abuses should not undo right uses. We should not throw out the baby with the bathwater, but being aware of the temptations we should step away and teach our children to step away. As in all things, we should avoid excess. The way of balance is to love all things according to their worth. Your gadgets really are no more than tools. They should serve you. You should not serve them.
So to show it who’s boss, turn the darn thing off. Be alert. Become more aware of the reality around you. Pay attention to people. Cultivate conversation. Rejoice in the beauty of the natural world. Observe the joys and sorrows of the world around you and be thankful. Pray more.
And speaking of prayer, just for the record, what was I using to pray the Divine Office when I came across that psalm?
An app called iBreviary on my iPhone, of course.
The Imaginative Conservative applies the principle of appreciation to the discussion of culture and politics—we approach dialogue with magnanimity rather than with mere civility. Will you help us remain a refreshing oasis in the increasingly contentious arena of modern discourse? Please consider donating now.
Editor’s Note: The featured image is an example of consuming culture on a smartphone by Pexels under the license of Creative Commons Zero.
I don’t have a smart phone, though I do have a cell phone which is a useful technological advance. I recently had some repair work done on my car (should I have a car?) and noticed in a parking lot that coolant was leaking. It turns out that the tube or hose or whatever (I know nothing about cars) was not reconnected properly. Having the cell enabled me, with much less aggravation, to contact AAA and get a tow. I think the cell would also come in handy if I had a breakdown on a back country road though there are places out west where I have no cell connection. Having a cell relieves anxiety, if nothing else. I judge the convenience of the cell phone to be one of only three material improvements that I have encountered in the post modern world (I was born into a world of central heating and indoor plumbing). The second is the word processor as it enables me to compose letters, reports for work, etc. in an easier manner. The is a personal thing only as I am over fastidious in wanting to immediately correct my typing mistakes though I guess an old fashioned (!!!) IBM Selectric with correcto tape would be just as good though perhaps less neat. The third improvement is the almost universal practice of people cleaning up after their dogs. This was not done in the days of my boyhood with many unfortunate results for the careless youngster that I was.
I agree with good Father Longnecker. The internet is useful but offers many temptations and tends to isolate us from our immediate community. Of course, I could provide many empirical examples. Father Longnecker mentions the “always open, global, shopping mall”. This is convenient, but comes at a price. I miss small bookstores that were replaced by mega-bookstores which were replace by Amazon. Yes, I have found many otherwise hard to find books online but I miss the romance of browsing and the accompanying pleasure of serendipitously finding new authors or topics to read. (Perhaps that practice was an old idol itself, best left behind) Even libraries have fewer and fewer old editions and I know of one system where DVD’s occupy the same shelves as the books,
The modern world intervenes and we are compelled to adopt, but not to submit.
These thoughts are rambling, perhaps tangential and less serious to the topic, but thank you, Father Longnecker, your article inspired me to do some thinking.
It appears to me that you are condemning a device that is actually, spiritually, saving the world. A smartphone is a way to connect people to one another, those selfies are being sent to friends and family. People may now simultaneously be in more than one place at one time. In church, I often “simulcast” the best points of a sermon to my friends and family who could not make that particular time and place. And they likewise, often message me the best points that they are hearing elsewhere.
New technologies are brought into this world, for good or evil, by no less that the hand of God. As in all things, we have the choice, the free agency, to decide how to use them.
Well said, Well written. Well done.
“Abuses should not undo right uses.
The way of balance is to love all things according to their worth. Your gadgets really are no more than tools. They should serve you. You should not serve them.”
The tree in the garden wasn’t evil…God looked at everything He had made and it was very good. It was a grand opportunity to obey, to discipline desire.
Just as the iphone, ipad, ithis, ithat, gives us opportunity to go into all the world and share our Father’s love or…
partake of the forbidden fruit.
Once again, as in all things, the challenge echoes through the ages “Choose you this day, who you will serve”