Tuesday, January 26, 2021

Notes from my Knapsack 2-4-21

Notes from my Knapsack 2-4-21
Jeff Gill

Waiting my turn
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My wife and I are thankful that our respective parents in Indiana, her dad and my mom, are now vaccinated, or will be by the time this hits print.  They both have gotten their first shots, and second shots are set up. Now, we wait on getting our own.

I'm also thankful that I have been a regular blood donor for many years, creeping up on 15 gallons here in a few months. This means every 60 days I get a COVID test, and I've been negative thus far, one time I like being called a negative sort of guy. Between us, we've had a scattering of official and work-related tests that have confirmed for us that we've been able to stay clear of the virus, while doing what needs to be done.

But we're also just young enough (a phrase neither of us has much occasion to use!) to not be on any of the criteria for getting scheduled soon for the COVID vaccine. And may not until towards the end of this thing. Word out of Washington and the state of Ohio is that we might need to wait until the end of May until we'd be unambiguously candidates for our shots.

That means we wait, and watch, and listen. The various cases are made for who should be "next," and I'll admit we have plenty of discussions at home about the relative ethics and practicalities of which group or demographic should be versus what is. Opinions? We have a few.

In general, I think everyone is doing the best they can, and as long as our elderly parents are protected, I'm willing to wait. I'm also going to be as quick to say yes as I could possibly be if someone offers. If one of those "hey, we have a couple extra defrosted and our appointments are all done and you're just walking by" situations comes up, oh yeah, I will roll up a sleeve and say "hit me!" What I don't want to do is work angles to sneak in early if we're still struggling to get shots lined up for those who need and want them.

The situation I hope to avoid, though, is getting my turn soon because so many who are, with reasons and rights in line in front of me, say "nope, won't let them inject that into me." No one thought this would be 100% willingness from the outset, but the numbers of care center staff and front line workers who are declining have surprised the Governor, policy makers, and me. 

Don't want to be a guinea pig? Hey, after the first million, who's the guinea pig? My mom? The person working down the linefrom you who said yes when you said no? I think the testing is done, and the results are clear. These vaccines are as safe as anything you'd buy in the produce or snack food sections at the grocery store. And honestly, if it means I have to wait longer, I am happy to, if it means more people who need the vaccine sooner say yes to receiving it. Don't take a pass on it on my account. Make me wait.

Jeff Gill is a writer, storyteller, and preacher in central Ohio; he's been patient, on occasion, but not consistently. Tell him how you wait productively at knapsack77@gmail.com or follow @Knapsack on Twitter.

Faith Works 1-30-21

Faith Works 1-30-21
Jeff Gill

Notes towards a theology of media consumption
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Where I've been going in recent weeks, in thinking out loud about media consumption and curatorial work and clergy, is in a direction that I intend to be towards the theological.

That's a word which sadly makes many tune out. Ewwww, theology. How many angels can dance on the head of a pin (the answer is three, by the way) or how to justify the ways of God to humanity by way of a twenty-seven point five volume work.

Actually, I hope I've been doing theology these last few weeks, I just didn't say so. To be, theology is just what the word is derived from: talk about, or better yet, talking with God. Theos, or God in Greek, and Logos, which is often translated "Word" but is something a bit more essential and also relational. Dialogue is a "logos" passed back and forth between two people, not so much an argument as a subject we're trying to understand between the two of us ("dio" in Greek for two and dia- is between two, got it?), and so we're having a dialogue about a subject of mutual interest.

Likewise a discussion about things having to do with God, or with God: that's a theology in process, at work. You and I "talk" here about the Divine, and we're doing theology.

Now, as to the theological topic at hand, here's a theological statement I think even my agnostic and even atheist friends would agree with: I'm not God. Nor are you, fair enough? [Much head nodding, I'm sure.]

Okay then. If, whatever your approach to theism, you agree that I am not God, let me take the dialogue a step further: whatever or whomever God is, if I am not God, then among other things I can't know everything. We might stretch our dialogue into more of a group free-for-all as some say "but I don't agree there is a God" and others have various opinions about the nature of the Almighty, but a common reference point is that the Western tradition for a thousand years has said "God is a being beyond which none greater can be imagined." Details to come later, but that's a good starting point.

And I, as well as you, if you don't mind me saying so, necessarily know less than such a being. God knows all, or at least all that is knowable, and we do not.

Folks, this is abstract, but important in application, because the obvious implication is that no matter how late we stay up on the internet, we will never know everything there is to know about aardvarks, anarchists, atoms, let alone the events of recent weeks. We can try to know more, but we will never know all. At which point we have to start making choices. Choices about whom to believe, where we put our trust, how we assemble our partial facts into an actual plan for what to do when we get up tomorrow.

My lack of certainty, of absolute knowledge about aardvarks is unlikely to come up tomorrow, so I let that go entirely. Anarchists? I wonder what they're up to, but if I'm sure none are under the bed I can sleep soundly. Atoms most people don't think about, but they're fascinating, even if you can't trust them. (Why can't you trust them? Because they make up everything.)

Now of course you're thinking "how can I trust anyone who would make a joke like that?" Fair point. And that might be a reason to dismiss me as a partner in dialogue. Hey, I've had people tell me "you're not serious enough." That is one criteria people can use for information: is it a serious and substantive source? A comic book may or may not put accuracy above humor, let alone a weekly columnist.

And for many, the mere fact that I'm both a religious person (guilty) and an ordained minister (guilty as charged) makes my statements on facts or opinions untrustworthy. The interesting thing here is that this is a relatively new state of affairs in our general culture. I hope to say more about in whom we do put our trust next week. 

Jeff Gill is a writer, storyteller, and preacher in central Ohio; he's made worse jokes, believe it or not. Tell him your favorite "Dad joke" at knapsack77@gmail.com, or follow @Knapsack on Twitter.