Recently I read a book review of a new book I want to buy and read. The book is by Deanna A. Thompson and entitled, “The Virtual Body of Christ in a Suffering World.” It was not the book which first caught my attention. It was the title of the review by Melissa Jones called, “Virtual connectivity helps us to attend to life’s pain.” By now when I see the word, “virtual,” I assume it somehow has to do with the internet. In this case I was correct, but I didn’t fully appreciate what I was going to learn. The review started slowly.
Jones first talked about the “research-to-practice gap” that exists in health care. Essentially, what is at stake here is the amazing research done by so many different folks in the health care world, i.e. physicians, nurses, etc. And yet their findings do not trickle down into the actual practice with sick folks needing help. This was an interesting point, which I had given no thought.
With this short set-up, Jones points us to Thompson’s book and what it accomplishes. She says, “The author shows religious thinkers exactly how to take virtual Christianity to people in pain.” At this juncture I am hooked. I try to imagine what “virtual Christianity” might be? How would it differ from “real Christianity?” I eagerly read on in the book review. We are told that Thompson is both an accomplished academic and a person who has suffered her fair share of pain. She is a young mother who suffered a serious bout with breast cancer. Thompson’s aim was to close the “gap.”
The basic of what she did was to set up a website in order to stay in touch with family and friends who wanted to stay in touch with her during her illness and its consequent treatment. This is the “virtual network” part of the plan. The effect of this network is captured in these thoughts. “In Thompson's experience, the site kept people informed of how she was doing, extended the spiritual support of prayer, and virtually connected a support group that brought the family meals and helped with other needs. She realized that the virtual connectedness of a website allowed her to be surrounded by a ‘cloud of witnesses greater than I could have previously imagined.’”
I was intrigued when the reviewer, Jones, described Thompson’s story as a “conversion story.” She then offers details. “Thompson describes her journey from digital cynicism to a firm belief that virtual relationships can alleviate individual suffering. She predicts that today's expanding virtual networks will ‘push us to rethink the boundaries of the church local and universal.’” That last thought intrigues me and leads me into the deeper waters of the digital world. She talks about the local church and the universal.
As a student of Christian history, I have always been aware of the distinction between the local church---like the “real” one on the corner of two streets---and the universal one described in the creeds as the “one, holy, catholic, and apostolic church.” It never occurred to me that the universal church could also include the virtual church, but I like the idea. The virtual church can be as “real” as the church of the fourth century, which I feel exists just as “really” as it did in the fourth century.
I like the way the author is described to be on a journey. Jones says, “The author's narration of her journey through illness evokes empathy, but never dips into self-pity. Her experiences are used elegantly to prove her assertion that virtuality is a continuation of reality, not a separate and opposing space.” I am intrigued by the idea that virtuality---virtual reality---is a continuation of reality. I am willing to grant that may be true, but I need to think more about it to understand how it can be true. It is a growth point for me.
I begin to understand something of what she means when I read the next few lines. She begins by describing the tough experience of chemotherapy, a journey I have also made. “While in this ‘awful space’ of physical brokenness, she was grateful for the virtual technology that allowed her self to extend beyond her body. ‘What I wrote and posted online still sounded like the me I was familiar with, the me that was not wholly overcome by the stigma and diminishment of advanced-stage cancer,’ she recalls.” It is easy for me to understand how technology can extend my self beyond my physical presence.
In some ways we all know this through our current routines. A simply phone call extends our self beyond our physical presence. And even more in our contemporary time, Skype, emails, FaceTime, etc. are all a similar example of virtual realities. We are not there, but we are “there.” The experience of talking with a daughter half-way around the world still blows my mind. But I know it is “real.” I know it is my daughter, etc.
I begin to understand, too, how the church---the body of Christ---can also be virtually real. We may be in different centuries than when the Apostle Paul wrote, but it is the same Body of Christ. It is the same reality present---sometimes actually and sometimes virtually. It is easy to conclude we would be fools not to make use of this kind of technological presence---virtual though it be.
I am glad I have lived long enough to participate in both real and virtual ministries. May it all be blessed.
Jones first talked about the “research-to-practice gap” that exists in health care. Essentially, what is at stake here is the amazing research done by so many different folks in the health care world, i.e. physicians, nurses, etc. And yet their findings do not trickle down into the actual practice with sick folks needing help. This was an interesting point, which I had given no thought.
With this short set-up, Jones points us to Thompson’s book and what it accomplishes. She says, “The author shows religious thinkers exactly how to take virtual Christianity to people in pain.” At this juncture I am hooked. I try to imagine what “virtual Christianity” might be? How would it differ from “real Christianity?” I eagerly read on in the book review. We are told that Thompson is both an accomplished academic and a person who has suffered her fair share of pain. She is a young mother who suffered a serious bout with breast cancer. Thompson’s aim was to close the “gap.”
The basic of what she did was to set up a website in order to stay in touch with family and friends who wanted to stay in touch with her during her illness and its consequent treatment. This is the “virtual network” part of the plan. The effect of this network is captured in these thoughts. “In Thompson's experience, the site kept people informed of how she was doing, extended the spiritual support of prayer, and virtually connected a support group that brought the family meals and helped with other needs. She realized that the virtual connectedness of a website allowed her to be surrounded by a ‘cloud of witnesses greater than I could have previously imagined.’”
I was intrigued when the reviewer, Jones, described Thompson’s story as a “conversion story.” She then offers details. “Thompson describes her journey from digital cynicism to a firm belief that virtual relationships can alleviate individual suffering. She predicts that today's expanding virtual networks will ‘push us to rethink the boundaries of the church local and universal.’” That last thought intrigues me and leads me into the deeper waters of the digital world. She talks about the local church and the universal.
As a student of Christian history, I have always been aware of the distinction between the local church---like the “real” one on the corner of two streets---and the universal one described in the creeds as the “one, holy, catholic, and apostolic church.” It never occurred to me that the universal church could also include the virtual church, but I like the idea. The virtual church can be as “real” as the church of the fourth century, which I feel exists just as “really” as it did in the fourth century.
I like the way the author is described to be on a journey. Jones says, “The author's narration of her journey through illness evokes empathy, but never dips into self-pity. Her experiences are used elegantly to prove her assertion that virtuality is a continuation of reality, not a separate and opposing space.” I am intrigued by the idea that virtuality---virtual reality---is a continuation of reality. I am willing to grant that may be true, but I need to think more about it to understand how it can be true. It is a growth point for me.
I begin to understand something of what she means when I read the next few lines. She begins by describing the tough experience of chemotherapy, a journey I have also made. “While in this ‘awful space’ of physical brokenness, she was grateful for the virtual technology that allowed her self to extend beyond her body. ‘What I wrote and posted online still sounded like the me I was familiar with, the me that was not wholly overcome by the stigma and diminishment of advanced-stage cancer,’ she recalls.” It is easy for me to understand how technology can extend my self beyond my physical presence.
In some ways we all know this through our current routines. A simply phone call extends our self beyond our physical presence. And even more in our contemporary time, Skype, emails, FaceTime, etc. are all a similar example of virtual realities. We are not there, but we are “there.” The experience of talking with a daughter half-way around the world still blows my mind. But I know it is “real.” I know it is my daughter, etc.
I begin to understand, too, how the church---the body of Christ---can also be virtually real. We may be in different centuries than when the Apostle Paul wrote, but it is the same Body of Christ. It is the same reality present---sometimes actually and sometimes virtually. It is easy to conclude we would be fools not to make use of this kind of technological presence---virtual though it be.
I am glad I have lived long enough to participate in both real and virtual ministries. May it all be blessed.
Comments
Post a Comment