Restart

So I'm happily tapping at my computer keyboard last night, toggling between a website providing me musical distraction and another assisting me in research for my doctoral class, when suddenly I couldn't get any internet response.

I'm no technology guru, but after years of utilizing technology in my vocational and personal lives, I can make some initial determinations. I could move from application to application with no difficulty. I could open and close documents. There was no difference in the computer response time with those actions. What I could not do, however, was get the internet to respond.

After receiving no response from Safari (my preferred web browser), I tried Firefox. Nothing. I moved on to Chrome. Again, no response. I turned off my wi-fi, waited a couple of minutes, turned it back on. The signal showed full bars, but no response.

By this time, of course, I am annoyed and beyond frustrated. I begin to reason with myself that perhaps it's simply that the internet across the world is overloaded right now because people cannot leave home and everyone is online instead. I chastise myself and wonder if perhaps I need a higher quality internet source, although I thought Claudia and I made that decision (a good one) when we moved here about a year ago. In my irritation I begin to question the motives of others. Surely the people on my block -- all of whom, I irrationally surmised -- must be on the internet, pulling strength away from my home, when I was the one doing a socially more noble thing: doctoral research. In the fetid pool of my imagination I cast mental aspersions: why am I denied my higher pursuit while they (whoever "they" might be) are sucking up internet bandwidth watching old episodes of "Dexter" or "Little House on the Prairie" or whatever.

Finally, I had to submit to reality. I needed to focus on what I could control and what I could not control. I couldn't control others' (supposed) viewing habits, I couldn't control the fact that across the country millions of people are staying in at night, I couldn't control (apparently, for the moment) my own judgmental mind.

So I did what I had to do. I reached my angry fingers to my mouse, clicked on a pull-down menu and selected, first of all, "force quit" (to close down all my open applications) and then "restart."

As program by program shut down, I watched the colors in my monitor dim to a grey and then complete darkness. For what seemed like minutes (although, in truth were probably seconds) I waited for something to emerge from the darkness. Finally, a movement, a small apple-shaped icon (I am a Mac user) emerged and beneath it a progress bar showing me that in 37 minutes I would have an updated system.

And so I waited. I picked up a theologically dense book that I'm reading from my current class in New Testament Interpretation. After a page or two I looked up to see 34 minutes remaining. I began to organize my work space, I went to the kitchen for a drink. Returning back to my home office I viewed the verdict. 23 minutes remaining.

And so I waited some more. Still annoyed, still displaced, but hopeful that eventually things would be better. As the final couple of minutes ticked away, I recognized that I was now calmer, less stressed, more prepared for the next step.

And then, in the blink of an eye, my system update was finished. I clicked on my sign-in icon and voilá, I was back in business. With a bit of trepidation I opened my internet browser, typed in the url for Pitts Theological Library (at Candler School of Theology). Within seconds my browser was snappily returning to me the results I needed.

Turns out that what I needed (both for my computer and for me personally) was a restart. In this case it was a "hard restart," because it involved an update of my computer operating system.

I wonder if the Coronavirus epidemic is providing all of us with a hard restart. Right now we are in a protracted moment of annoyance, irritation and dread. We are awaiting a return to what is familiar and expected.

But I wonder ... perhaps this "hard restart" will allow us the opportunity to create something new, not simply a return to what has been. In particular, I wonder how this may be a time for the Church (all churches, not just our congregation) to rethink how we do what it is we do.

I invite you to pray with me ... to ask God how we can be a "fresh expression" (more on that later) of love and grace in our community of faith for the community around us. Let's redeem this challenging time by welcoming God's Spirit to "restart" us.