Handwriting on the Wall

Is the art of writing cursive dead? Does it matter? This was the subject of a Boston Globe article yesterday titled “Cursive, Foiled Again.” As I type this — it’s hard to blog on yellow legal pads — I genuinely don’t know how I feel about the issue. 

Emotionally, it makes me cringe. What if John Hancock didn’t use cursive? Getting autographs from athletes might be more readable but a lot less fun. The major challenge of a pharmicists’ work — decoding the chicken scratch on perscription pads — would be eliminated.

But logically, shouldn’t our kids be spending more time with computers than learning how to make a script “j?” Perhaps cursive will go the way of the feather quill pen but there is something wonderfully personal about it — especially in this era of e-mail and texting. To get a handwritten note with flowing loops is a great joy. Even if I can’t decipher half of what it says.

Oddly, I never learned how to print letters — it’s a major gap in my education. I switched schools in Baltimore between third and fourth grades. In the one school they taught cursive first and then moved on to printing. In the other they taught kids to print before delving into script. The upshot is that I can write in block capitals or I can write in cursive — something my boys find hilarious. When they were just learning to print they often offered to “teach me.” But I’ve made it 40 years without the skill and I’m just not interested. Of course my handwriting is horrific but I can’t blame that on my teachers. Or maybe I should.

In the Book of Daniel, a hand appears and foretells the demise of the Babalonian Empire. This is, of course, where we get the expression about “seeing the handwriting on the wall” as an omen of doom. No word on whether the hand wrote in cursive. Perhaps a modern translation of the Bible will change ”handwriting on the wall” to “text on the BlackBerry.”

Bookless Library?

A library without books? The headmaster of a New England prep school is convinced this is a good idea. An article on the front page of today’s Boston Globe is accompanied by a picture of Cushing Academy’s $500,000 digital library. “When I look at books, I see an outdated technology, like scrolls before books,’’ said James Tracy, Cushing’s headmaster and chief evangelist of the bookless library.

Now, I realize I’m an old and old-fashioned 40-year-old. But the whole notion makes me cringe. What’s a church without a cross? What’s a baseball field without bases? What’s a Walmart without a greeter? What’s a library without books? I envision the bookless library to be about as effective as the paperless office. 

Most of the books I read these days comes from browsing the stacks at the local library. Yes, I judge books by their covers — something you can’t do digitally. And while I’d like to see libraries do more with technology (I won’t by a Kindle until I can download books for free from a library), I also love the physicality of a book. Perhaps I’m just a speed bump on the digital highway of the future. But I like how books feel and smell; I like the communion between author and reader that comes through a book; I like turning pages; I like bookmarks. Of course ancient scribes probably felt the same way about parchment.

On the upside, the new “library” will include a $50,000 coffee shop complete with a $12,000 cappucino maker. Besides the fact that combining raging hormones and lots of caffeine is a recipe for disaster, there’s another potential danger here: Kindle Reader — meet hot coffee. Oops.

All That Twitters

Here’s my latest article in The Living Church. In it I publicly admit that I’m a lousy Twitterer so don’t quote me. I do quote two friends who are also my Twittering idols, the Rev. Scott Gunn, a priest and blogger from Rhode Island, and Meredith Gould, an author, blogger, and marketing communications specialist from Princeton, New Jersey. Enjoy.

 All that twitters

 By the Rev. Tim Schenck

I’m a terrible Twitterer. Granted I’m a novice, but so far I feel like the Mr. Magoo of Twitter: I have no idea what I’m doing. Blogs, Facebook, email, text and instant messages — these I know. But I always swore I wouldn’t Twitter until I could figure out the grammar. I’m still somewhat confused but here’s what I’ve learned: Twitter is the proper noun; tweet is a noun — you send a “tweet”; twitter is the verb (not to be confused with the proper noun “Twitter”). So you can use Twitter to twitter a tweet. I think. I may have to write a tongue twister.

What exactly is Twitter? It’s a free social networking or “micro-blogging” website that allows users to answer the ubiquitous question, “What am I doing?” All within 140 characters. But the underlying question is, “Why Twitter?” Or blog or Facebook or MySpace or anything else for that matter? At one level, Twitter is the epitome of narcissism. It’s all about me – what am I doing? Where am I? How am I? What am I thinking? Feeling? Observing? Sensing?

Conventional wisdom holds that the internet has revolutionized the world as much as Gutenberg’s 15th-century printing press. It has certainly transformed the way we communicate with one another. We now expect instant communication via e-mail, text messages, Facebook, instant messaging, YouTube, and Twitter. Opinions are published via online news sites and blogs so quickly that many believe the daily newspaper is obsolete. All of these communications tools are collectively referred to as “new media,” and congregations throughout the world are exploring ways to help them build community and spread the gospel of Christ.

The Rev. Scott Gunn, an online and offline friend who used to work at IBM, is deeply immersed in church applications of new media. Behind his back I refer to him as Sir Blog-a-Lot. Scott’s theory on Facebook and Twitter is that “it’s the modern-day equivalent of going to a high school play. Fifty years ago, a parish priest would go to local social and school events as a way of staying connected to parishioners outside church. It was a way to show interest in people’s lives and to reveal a bit of one’s whole person to the parish. I don’t go to things, but I blog and I’m on Facebook. It’s clearly different in many important respects, but I think there are some similarities. I get to learn something about people I only see at church, usually. They get to learn some things about me.”

So it’s about connectivity, which is at the core of the Christian faith. Jesus called disciples into community, after all. And there’s no reason to think he wouldn’t use Facebook or Twitter if he came into the world 2,000 years later. Imagine the killer status updates: Jesus is “changing water into wine – the good stuff” or Jesus is “cranking out parables again.”

Which brings me to admit that I’m conflicted by some of the Twitter language. Rather than having “friends” like on Facebook, you have “followers” — people who receive your status updates. At last count I have 10 (versus my nearly 200 “friends” on Facebook). I actually prefer to think of them as “Disciples” and am considering not accepting any more after I reach 12. How’s that for a priestly Messiah complex?

Meredith Gould, author of The Word Made Fresh: Communicating Church and Faith Today and someone I’ve been privileged to get to know (mostly online), puts it this way: “Before there was ‘high tech,’ there was ‘high touch.’ On the short list for high touch community building are: greeters and ushers; coffee-and-donut Sunday gatherings and the church picnic; Bible study and prayer groups; and newcomers groups. These high touch ministries help church become more than just a building. New media enhance high touch by extending and expanding social interaction. By the end of the 20th century, we added high tech to the mix, first in the form of individual and group e-mail, then in the form of websites. These high tech tools have become invaluable means to support high touch ministries. At this point, the church website is considered as essential as the weekly bulletin. Social media allows us to move beyond church business as usual.”  

Therein lies the opportunity and the challenge. Moving beyond church business as usual means trying new things — Twitter in my case. For most of us — as individuals and congregations —this is all a work in progress. As with anythingnew, there is excitement about new possibilities mixed with anxiety about the loss of the familiar. This is also a great way to involve younger members of the congregation who live firmly in the electronic world. Heck, it’s one of the reasons I had kids in the first place: at-home tech support. 

If you take the leap and sign up for Twitter, you can “follow” me here: http://twitter.com/FatherTim. So far my tweets have been tentative and uneventful. But then, I’m probably doing it wrong. And about that tongue twister, how’s this? “Tim the tweeter triumphantly twitters twisted tweets. How many twisted tweets did Tim the tweeter triumphantly twitter?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Switched at Birth?

My brother’s new company, Art Quiver, got some great press today in the Charlottesville Daily Progress. The article is titled “Paint and Click” — a bit cheesy but given that AQ is an online art gallery it makes sense. There’s even a picture of him so you can see first-hand just how better looking I am.

Why did he start the business? According to the paper: “Short on time and frustrated by the process of trying to buy art for his own home, Matt Schenck created ArtQuiver.com.” Nice. But come to think of it he hasn’t sent me any art for a housewarming gift…

Now that Matt’s in the art business (he was formerly part owner and an Executive VP at Rosetta Stone), our middle names are even more ironic. He got “Edwards” for the only famous relative we seem to have — the 18th century preacher Jonathan Edwards of Great Awakening renown. And I got “Edgar”  for my father’s father who was a Museum Director (Brooklyn Museum in the 1950’s among others).

Now go buy some original art! (Tell him “Tim sent you” to receive the 10% surcharge.)

Gee, Mail

As part of our moving-to-Massachusetts deal with Ben we agreed to get him an e-mail address to keep in touch with his friends in Briarcliff. Do I really think a ten-year-old needs a Gmail account? No. But a promise is a promise so I set it up for him yesterday.

What took the most time was coming up with an address. He wanted “Yankees” in it, which made me cringe, but fortunately anything he came up with was already taken. That’s not entirely true — he could have had Yankees123456@gmail.com. That was available but fortunately even Ben realized it was a bit unwieldy. After trying countless combinations, I suggested incorporating “Schenck” into his address. Amazingly enough this isn’t the most popular word to use in an e-mail account. So he now has a functioning e-mail address. Ben is ready to roll on the information superhighway. Or at least e-mail his mother (which he’s already done three times).

If you think this is poor parenting, I must also confess I set up an account for Zack. What’s good for the goose, you know. I doubt there’s a whole lot of 8-year-old e-mail going back and forth around town. “Let’s meet at the playground at noon — ask your mom.” “Okay, sounds good. Go ask your mom.” But at least he can send messages to his brother

Ben’s now asking for an iPhone. But that’s where I draw the line. No BlackBerry or iPhone until you’re at least 11!

Holy Tweet!

Interesting article on churches and social media posted on msnbc.com today. And not just because I’m quoted all over it. It’s amazing to read about clergy and parishioners who tweet duringthe service. There’s a reason it’s called a “sanctuary,” folks. Time apart from cell phones, Twitter, and Facebook (even for just an hour) is like a mini-retreat in today’s world. I may just have to carry out my threat to purchase that cell phone jammer for my church.

Click here to read the article titled “Holy Twitter! They’re Tweeting from the Pews” by Diane Mapes.

All That Twitters…

…Is Not Gold.

Yes, I’ve given in to peer pressure and have started Twittering. Or perhaps you could argue that I drank the Kool Aid. But whatever, you can “follow” me here: @FatherTim. If you Twitter, you’ll know what this means. If not, it probably looks like an aborted e-mail address or a typo.

I admit I’ve been conflicted by some of the Twitter language. Rather than having “Friends” like on Facebook, you have “Followers” — people who receive your status updates. At last count I have five (versus my nearly 200 “friends” on Facebook). I actually prefer to think of them as “Disciples” and am considering not accepting any more after I reach 12. How’s that for a priestly Messiah complex?

I admit that, at this point, I am the Mr. Magoo of Twitter. I have no idea what I’m doing. People think I’m some technological guru because I’m a priest who blogs, Facebooks, and now Twitters. The reality is that I only appear to be competent because of the company I keep. Besides a few younger priests who can do this stuff in their sleep (with one hand tied behind their backs; though that’s a rather uncomfortable way to sleep) most clergy are horrible with technology. That’s because the majority of us are old.

I always swore I wouldn’t Twitter until I could figure out the grammar. I’m still somewhat confused but here’s what I’ve learned: Twitter is the proper noun; tweet is a noun – you send a “tweet”; twitter is the verb (not to be confused with the proper noun “Twitter”). So you can use Twitter to twitter a tweet. I think. I may have to write a tongue twister.

I’ll keep you posted on my adventures in Tweet Land. So far they’ve been tentative and uneventful. But then, I’m probably doing it wrong.

Blessings from the Tweet Deck.

Art Quiver

This isn’t my usual blogging fare, but I want to encourage you to check out my brother Matt’s new venture: Art Quiver. AQ is an online art site with the slogan “Art world, meet the web. Art lovers, rejoice.” It just went live this month.

Prior to starting Art Quiver, Matt worked as the VP for marketing at Rosetta Stone, the language learning software company. Actually he joined them very early on, when they were a tiny company, and was a part owner until they sold to a larger company a couple of years ago. You know those Rosetta Stone kiosks you see in airports and malls? Matt’s idea. Which is slightly annoying to me since every time I see one I have to think of my younger brother.

Here’s an added bonus available only to readers of this blog (and anyone else with opposable thumbs): If you purchase anything on Art Quiver you’ll automatically get a $50 discount ($100 off purchases over $800). Simply click this link (or copy and paste it) for the automatic discounts to be applied upon checkout:
http://www.artquiver.com/?code=GRAND-OPENING. The offer expires on April 30th.

The technology on the site is pretty amazing. It’s basically an online art gallery with all sorts of ways to search based on your personal preferences. I’ve offered to be one of the featured artists on the site — I could do some amazingly abstract art if given canvas, paint, and a few brushes. At least as long as “abstract” is a euphemism for “horrible lack of talent.” Matt hasn’t taken me up on this yet.

Logging Off (sorta)

After much prayer and reflection, I’ve decided to give up Facebook and e-mail for Lent. Sort of. Okay, I admit I’m too weak to do this completely. And the spirit, let alone the flesh, isn’t even interested in trying. But I will commit to not checking e-mail or FB after 6:00 pm.

I realize I’m facing a potentially harmful (evening only) detox. I get the shakes just thinking about it. I did something similar two years ago when I gave up checking e-mail in the evening. But that was before I joined Facebook. And before I got that extra appendage known in some circles as a BlackBerry. This totally ups the degree of difficulty.

As difficult as it will be to pull off, I think 40 unplugged evenings will be a good thing. It will certainly be good modeling for Ben and Zack — you don’t need to sit at the computer every time you pass through the family room. And perhaps we’ll play a bit more Chinese checkers or Connect Four or whatever game they want to play in that time between dinner and bedtime. It might even help make up for the extra evening meetings I’ll be going to during Lent.

I do realize Jesus didn’t die so that I could check my e-mail less. But giving something up (that you actually like) is a great way to connect with the self-denial of his 40 days spent in the wilderness. In Scripture we read about the devil tempting the famished Jesus by daring him to turn a rock into a dinner roll. For me, the temptation will be that little red flashing light that blinks on my “CrackBerry” whenever I have a new e-mail or FB message.

I will try to be strong. But I also wonder how many times I can check my e-mail between 5:59 and 6:00 pm?

We Have a Winner

Da Mayor

The envelope please…

The winner of the 100th Facebook Friend Award — mentioned in a previous post — goes to The Honorable James Haggerty. You think I’m kidding about the “honorable” part but I’m not. Jim is the mayor of Kingston, Pennsylvania, and a former Army buddy of mine. Well, still a buddy and now an official “friend” but we met when we were both in Army ROTC at MIT.

Lest you think I actually went to MIT, let me clarify. Jim went to MIT (and later Georgetown Law). Our ROTC program included cadets from MIT, Tufts (my alma mater), Harvard, and Wellesley. An eclectic group of warriors to say the least.

But it’s appropriate in other ways: Jim’s a fellow Armor officer (tanks), we’ve been to a Jimmy Buffett concert together, and have shared a drink at the Florabama.

So, Jim, congratulations. If I had to rank my friends in order, you’d definitely be number 100. And more importantly, the dog-eared, coffee stained display copy of my book that’s been sitting near the register at Coffee Labs Roasters for the past several months will soon be in the mail. Autographed of course. And I’ll even pick up the $2.36 for postage.

For those of you who lost out, I’m sorry. I know this contest has been consuming your every thought over the last few days. You’ll have to buy the book on Amazon (cheap! $9.60!). Though if you’d like me to sign a piece of scrap paper I’m happy to do so. It’ll only cost you a cup of coffee.