Skip to main content

Conspiracy

A couple months ago when Instagram released their new terms of service and everyone got in a great huff over infringements to their privacy, a friend asked if I was going to close my account and quit using them to share pictures. I thought about it for a minute and realized that no, I wouldn't. By the time the new terms of service came into effect, either someone would discover that the hullaboo was over a misreading of the new terms, or Instagram would have fixed the problem to keep their good name.



Within days, the latter happened. We're all still taking our pictures with Instagram, and nothing is amiss* - as far as we know. I'd like to say this is a sign of some divine presentiment within me, but it's not so complicated.


We all find some lessons easier to learn than others, and this has been easy for me: to avoid panic based on supposition. It's one of the reasons I've never been particularly moved by end of the world theories, of either the evangelical or the Mayan sort. I have been trying to pinpoint when I first learned this lesson, especially as I've had cause to think of it more often than usual lately.


It was when I first came across the verse in Isaiah: "Do not call conspiracy everything that these people call conspiracy; do not fear what they fear, and do not dread it" (8:12). I remember when I first read that and took it to heart. And I really took it to heart, more than usual - perhaps because it seemed to allow me a freedom that was natural to me to begin with.


There are other verses about standing firm, or not following every wave of doctrine, or avoiding faddish philosophies, but they don't mean quite the same thing. "Do not call conspiracy..." is not just about being level-headed or avoiding panic, and it's not about being easily gullible. It means that we should wait to know the truth of a matter before we act on it. We should wait to rise against injustice until we are seeing with clear eyes. The short version: Be wise.


I think there's more for me to learn. But I am grateful for the pause before the leap. The hesitation before assumption. And I pray against any impulse that might make me too quick to fear.

*I am very aware that Instagram would not have bothered to correct their terms if people hadn't kicked up a load of dust. Let us consider this the blessing of human variety.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

window in the sub

Dear Nathaniel, I am microwaving pie that Mom bought up in Oak Glen this week on her way home from the orthodontist. As I put it in the microwave, I was full of sadness that I was not in Oak Glen with her. Why did I not go? I was working. I want to see the trees turn. I want to wander slowly through autumnal gift shops. Under the water, you cannot sense the approach of the seasons. Even here it is difficult because, after all, it's California. But I can still sense it. After three seasons in Illinois and one in Scotland, it must be with me for good. Or at least for a while. Because I am all abuzz with eagerness for fall and winter, for turkeys and dried leaves and Santa. I should start cooking again this fall. Fall foods are my favorite. Baked squash dripping with melted butter and brown sugar, pumpkin soup... this year, if I have enough money, I will put together a holiday dinner for my friends. And we will drink Scandinavian mulled wine, which is the most wonderful thing I have e...

Again in Gilead

I just finished reading this for the second time last week, thanks to the forever book group of Grace. It was equally as lovely the second time around, and while reading it, I wrote down a dozen more quotes from the incomparable Ames, who is both too beautiful a man to be real and too beautiful a man not to be real. (I'm grateful and amazed to know a few like him.) "It has been my experience that guilt can burst through the smallest breach and cover the landscape, and abide in it in pools and danknesses, just as native as water." (p.82) I have found this to be remarkably true. I see it in myself, and in many others as well. "I believe there are visions that come to us only in memory, in retrospect." (p.91) This seems to be about the only way I experience visions, but because memory is a rickety thing, I tend not to trust them much. Which makes me a poor prophet. "I know, too, that my own experience of the church has been, in many senses, shelte...
So I started filing my taxes. I know, they're due in three days. Then I find that I owe. More particularly, I owe more money than is presently sitting in my checking account (or checking and savings combined - I know, a sad state). This means that I'm not paying with TurboTax online. I'm going ghetto and mailing a check, crossing my fingers that it won't get deposited until after Thursday. Sad, sad state. Let's hear it for that raise.