But What About People?

The speaker styled himself a Futurist. He explained that futurists think about the future. I was naturally relieved when he clarified that question. Was anyone in his audience was wondering about it? Could it really be that someone thought that a futurist pondered the past, or the present? Oh well, let me move on.

For about an hour he presented us with graphs and statistics demonstrating that the world is changing and changing quickly. Then he was finished. That was it. I wonder how much he was paid for showing graphs and statistics? Most people applauded. I would like to think that they applauded because he was finished. I would not like to think that they applauded because they considered his presentation worth an hour of our collective time.

Let’s see; there were about 100 of us, that’s 100 hours – simple math. Was it worth 100 hours?

People are easily impressed. What does that say about our critical thinking?

Here’s the thing, the futurist apparently envisioned a future without people because he did not address how change affects people. He didn’t talk about stress, he didn’t talk about relationships, he didn’t talk about the quality of life, he didn’t talk about morals and ethics – he simply showed graphs and charts and statistics. I don’t know which was worse, the quality of the presentation or the fact that he was paid for the presentation.

I didn’t clap, I didn’t applaud, I didn’t whistle. Had there been a Q & A I was prepared to ask the first question, “What about people? How does all this affect people?” Alas, there was no Q & A in our futurist’s future nor that of his audience.

But then I wondered about the people who applauded – what were they thinking? Were they thinking? I don’t mean to be harsh, but I see this all the time – people accepting what they’re told without thinking about it. It’s like living in Flint, MI and trusting what you’re told about the drinking water.

We are the servants of technology, let us bow and worship lest we be thrown into the fiery furnace. 

No George

I finally made the call, I called George Will…but the number was not in service. It was the only number I had for him. Since it is not like George not to call me every few months the fact that the number is not in service may mean that he has gone to Narnia, in which case I’m sure Aslan has given him a warm reception and I have no doubt that George has put his arms around the Lion’s mane.

I tried to locate George’s son Arthur via the internet but so far with no success. I don’t know the married name of his daughter Debbie. I have been praying for Arthur and Debbie for decades; I’ve never met them or talked to them, but I’ve been praying for them. I also pray for their children and their children’s children. George would be around 80 years old right now, if he is in Narnia then I guess he probably doesn’t look 80.

I wonder if he died in the States or in Europe. He spent more time in Europe than the States. I doubt that George ever gave much thought to “cross-cultural communications,” he just used common sense and the love of Jesus to connect with people – no matter their color, no matter their language, no matter their education. We can get educated to the point we’re stupid, I really believe that. We can live so much in the head that we miss the heart, we can talk about theory so much that we forget to actually listen to people and understand them as human to human; everyone is a clinical specimen, everyone part of a demographic, this generation or that generation – what have we come to?

It bothered me that I couldn’t “connect” with George much over these past years and I am sorry that I didn’t see him but only spoke over the phone. I think it was around 1976 that I last saw him, that is 41 years, a long time. If George had changed much I couldn’t discern it, but I had changed and I think he may have always thought of me as the kid he met in 1966 or the young adult he last saw in 1976. There are times he’d say things that I would have agreed with 40 years ago but that I came to have a different perspective on and when I’d say something about those things…well… he didn’t understand – that made me feel bad, I didn’t want to cause him any angst. So I came to listen to him and not say too much if I thought what I’d say would bother him – after all, he was my elder and a significant influence on my life. I wanted to honor him whether or not we were always on the same page.

Sometimes you’re on stage with a fellow actor for a brief scene, sometimes through many acts of a play. Sometimes you reconnect on another stage and reprise your roles, sometimes you may assume new roles. Sometimes there can be a revival of a play you were in with each other years ago, but often you find you can’t go back and recapture the magic. Oh to be aware of the roles our Father has cast us in, to faithfully play our parts. To pay attention to those around us and not seek center stage for ourselves.

Well, if George has indeed left these shadowlands and gone to Narnia I’ll know where to find him when I get there, he’ll be as close to Aslan as he can possibly be; I know that for sure, for I know that George surely loved Jesus. 

A Prayer by Clement

We ask you, Master, be our helper and defender. Rescue those of our number in distress; raise up the fallen; assist the needy; heal the sick; turn back those of your people who stray; feed the hungry; release our captives; revive the weak; encourage those who lose heart. Let all the nations realize that you are the only God, that Jesus Christ is your Child, and that we are your people and the sheep of your pasture.

(1 Clement c. 96)