As a Youth Pastor, I found this book to be very accessible, and particularly relevant for teenage guys. Eldredge spends a lot of time talking about the importance of the father-role in a young man’s development, and this is something that is easily seen in youth ministry. This is a book that is full of stories, which makes it memorable and also easy to read – so it is definitely a book I would recommend to a young guy struggling with his masculinity.

(Thomas Nelson sent me a complimentary copy of this book for review.)

However, a few of Eldredge’s ideas seem to be based more upon Western myth and story rather than Biblical principles. He continually refers to the idea that men need a beauty to fight for, and a battle to win – using language that is more common in a Disney film than the Biblical narrative. Also, at times Eldredge seems to propose a way of contemporary masculinity, rather than Jesus’ way of the cross – but this view is balanced in places.

Overall, Wild at Heart is a read I’d recommend for young guys, but would encourage them to discuss the ideas in light of Scripture.

If Mark Sayer’s first book ‘The Trouble with Paris’ was the doctor’s diagnosis, then I found ‘The Vertical Self’ to be the prescription. This book highlights truth from the world in which I live, but also reveals the dangers of living in our hyper-connected world. In many ways, this book is prophetic in tone, as it calls for a new way of living, and paints a grim picture of our future if we continue to live shallow and seemingly meaningless lives. But I found the last few chapters particularly helpful, as they begin painting a picture of a new way of living, ideas that are true to both Scripture and our long history of faith traditions.

This book was particularly thought provoking and conversation inspiring – I’ve found myself already talking about ideas from ‘The Vertical Self’ in a range of different contexts. It has a particular harmony with young adults (as they live in the heart of this horizontal world), but the ideas discussed are not restrictive to that age. I would definitely recommend this book to others who are seeking what it means to live well and follow Jesus in the 21st century, and would strongly suggest reading it in community with others.

(Thomas Nelson sent me a complimentary copy of this book for review.)

You may have noticed that Twitter recently re‐vamped their own 
homepage, moving away from “What are you doing now?” to “Share 
and discover what’s happening right now, anywhere in the world”.  Does 
that mean that Twitter is trying to become a real‐time news source of 
citizen journalists? 

It also prompts new users to “Join the conversation” – but is that really 
what Twitter users are really “tweeting” about?  Is it really full of 
meaningful conversation, or senseless babble?  Is Twitter meant to be a 
place to share silly comments and photos with your friends, or a great 
place to promote your company’s product or service?

The full report is available here, and is well-worth a read (especially for non-Twitter users).

For people like Cimino, who said she “felt naked” without access to Twitter, the attacks were a serious reality check — a chance to evaluate just how dependent they’d become.

“You know how you pat your pockets for your cell phone and your keys? Well it’s that same kind of phantom [limb] with Twitter,” she said. “It’s like, ‘I can’t update! I can’t update!’ It’s just one of those bugs that gets in you.”

She added: “I was pretty upset, actually. It feels like a lifeline for me … Pretty much everyone knows almost every detail of my life by what I’m doing on Twitter.”

Read the full article here.

Part of the sadness of any death is the loss for the self. People have always found some of their security and identity in their relationships with others, and when the ‘other’ dies, a part of the individuals identity is lost. For many generations, this was seen in formal leaders – when Moses died after leading the people of Israel from Egypt through the desert, the Israelites mourned for him for thirty days. Why? Not only were they sad for Moses sake, but they were leaderless, and would have to redefine their identity under a new leader. As Moses died, a part of the Israelites identity and security died too.

Cultures have often mourned the death of royalty in this way, as the success of the self was based on the life of the royal leader. If the King could lead well and keep the pesky French from invading, life would be good. But with the removal of the King leads to sudden shock and disorientation, as a new identity must be created.

In our increasingly relational society, we are constantly defining ourselves by our social relationships. Some of these key relationships are our one-way relationships we have with celebrities, as they embody the ideals that we desire. Youthfulness, sexuality, wealth, fame, happiness – the celebrities seem to have it all, and so by relating with celebrities (through posters, T-shirts, watching their shows etc.) we claim some of their identity as our own. Yet when this image is marred with reality, our identity suffers as well.

Michael Jackson was the King of Pop (no offense to Justin Timberlake). Yet the ideas he embodied were much bigger than his music – he was one of the first global super-stars, and he seemed immortal; even his ranch was called Neverland – a place where you never grow up. About to embark on a global comeback tour, Michael was the embodiment of success against the odds, and living the idealised timeless life. Yet when he died, the humanity of Michael rushed to the forefront, and our idealised view of him was gone.

Although not happening at a life-changing or conscious level, this loss of Michael created a kind of social-disorientation for many people. The king of a generation had died – who do we define ourselves by now? His death calls us to reorient out lives around something grounded in reality and something that is truely timeless, rather than endlessly defining our lives by the lives of the rich and famous.

Full article here.

Dion Appel (Chief Executive of Lifelounge, the organisation that did this research) said, “They want more connections with their friends that aren’t digital, that are tangible. They’re starting to question the authenticity of social networks such as Facebook and Twitter. They want technology to assist rather than dominate the way they communicate.”

The Canadian communication theorist Marshall McLuhan talked about this possible influence of technology in The Gutenberg Galaxy, explaining that our created technologies are not neutral and passive but they change the way we think, the way we communicate, the way we exist. This recent movement amongst some youth in Australia is an expression of this – they don’t like what the social networking technologies are doing to them and their lives, and are responding by removing these technologies from their lives.

Ultimately, these youth can be seen to be craving for something that is grounded in reality. The vinyl records crackle with imperfections whilst the latest MP3s are post-produced to a standard that cannot be replicated by human musicians. Retro clothing is well worn, used and unique, which contrasts the homogenised and short-lived fashion trends of late. Facebook lets us choose how we are presented to the world, whilst talking to someone face-to-face reveals a person with acne, issues and quirks. Reality has joy and pain – yet it is what we crave, and what our post-real world does not deliver on. We want honesty and reality, with it’s warts and all.

The article quotes a US student, Michelle Gutierrez as saying, “‘Friend’ in this sense means I have something in common with you and we’re connected. More so than I care about you and I want to hang out with you.”

It is interesting to note that Gutierrez defines a Facebook friend on the basis of receiving, and contrasts it with ‘real’ friendship and it’s act of giving. As users can tally their friend counts on Facebook, a friend becomes something of a commodity that can be used to gain social value, but not as someone who you must have a relationship with.

Full article available here.

Full article here.

The main aspect of this new life being sold by Burger King is the idea of connectivity. All the prizes are to do with being connected to others – the car to get around to your mates place, the cellphone to text them, and the new laptop to Twitter about your new life to anyone who cares. But this reveals a deeper need in our human condition that BK is playing to – our deep loneliness. A lot of people desperately want a new life where they can start again, and recreate themselves. As we live in a super-connected world, the common-sense approach to this new life is to connect with more people. The more people you can connect to, the better your new life is. No longer are you walking around in dull grey colours – but you are colourful, vibrant and people want to be with you.

In this age of connectivity, the Christian faith can speak into this endless chasing of new identity with a message of contentment. Instead of trying to connect to more people, getting a new car or a better cellphone (so you can connect with even more people) – the message of Jesus calls us to engage with the life we have, rather than fantasise about a dream-life in which everything is perfect.

In Paul’s letter to the Philippians, he writes, ‘I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances.  I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want.  I can do all this through him who gives me strength.’

We live in a world that encourages discontentment, whatever the circumstances. No matter what – we need to need more. We want BK to give us a new life – yet we know this new life will come with all the disappointments we feel now. But in Jesus’ death and resurrection, we are offered a new life, a new way of living that goes way beyond a corporate gift, or a consumerist’s dream – but new life in the fullest sense of the word.