Simple Service

Having no television is one of the best ways to communicate spiritual superiority without overtly broadcasting how you've grown in Christ. It comes up in conversations like this, "So, what about that Letterman interview with Christina Applegate? Was she on drugs or what?" or "Did you see Supernanny with the Silva family and their seven children?" I smile with my head slightly cocked to the right and say, "oh, sorry... I don't have a television. I missed that." People stare at you. They're trying to determine if you're kidding. When they gather you're telling the truth they become incredulous. "No T.V.? But, uh, wha, how," they stammer. "Well, you see" I begin, "the Holy Spirit was dealing with me about how many hours I fritter away in front of the television dulling my mind in pursuit of entertainment that has no eternal significance whatsoever." As that is sinking in I share with them what I've learned from Neil Postman's excellent study "Amusing Ourselves to Death" which decries our reliance on television so much that he purports we no longer engage in meaningful conversation unless it entertains. Certain by now the Holy Spirit is grateful I have enlightened one more soul about the dangers of television, I smugly offer thoughtful helps on how they might wean themselves from this insidious evil.


Tonight my brother called me and I was right in the middle of looking at someone's photos on Facebook. I was annoyed having to answer the phone. The number of people I enjoy talking to on the telephone for any length of time I can count on one hand. One finger, in fact. And he's not the finger. "Yeah, what's up?" I answer curtly. He tells me a little about his day and asks if I need anything for tomorrow's cook out. I tell him I have it all covered while I sit clicking through photos. He rambles on about this and that while I try to give him polite verbal cues that I'm otherwise occupied and not into this conversation. He mentions something about being limited to just four or five television channels since some nearby cable work began. Suddenly I'm back in the dialogue, "You ought to try no channels," I interject wryly. He gets my meaning immediately and offers, "I don't know how you can take it. If I didn't have T.V. to watch I'd go nuts!"


"What you really mean," I offer," is that without a T.V. you'd have to converse with someone, read a book or otherwise engage in a meaningful activity." A familiar nudge taps my spirit as if to say, "yeah, like looking at photos on Facebook of a friend's family you don't even know and being so engrossed in this meaningful activity you respond with annoyance when your brother calls." Ouch! Where'd that come from? Now I'm a bit perturbed, my default emotion when rebuked, and I tell Danny, "Look, I gotta go. Trudie's barking and I'm making dinner..." He graciously lets me go and I think how blind I am. I can be so callous, especially to those closest to me. Maybe God can only use me when I am unaware He's doing it. I'm pretty sure now He hasn't called me to share my thoughts on T.V. with anyone. At least never from a prideful heart. There is no Jesus in that.


After a few moments and a prayer of confession I call my brother back. I don't apologize... maybe he didn't notice. Speaking much more kindly now and from my surprisingly contrite heart I suggest a few things he could indeed bring tomorrow. I close my laptop while we talk and I actually enjoy the conversation. I know he likes to talk on the phone. No, it's not one of my favorite things to do but it may just be a simple way to serve him right now. How badly do I really want that servant's heart anyway?