Now all the Athenians and the strangers visiting there used to spend their time doing nothing but telling or hearing something new.
—Acts 17:21
Saint Luke's description of the Athenians was, in all likelihood, not meant as a compliment. Luke—perhaps a Macedonian himself—wrote with the critical eye of an outside observer, unclouded by native pride.
Nearly 2000 years later, in a world more saturated with media than ever before, it doesn’t take much effort to see ourselves in the Evangelist’s description—perhaps even more than the Athenians themselves. Certainly we have a much greater quantity of "news" at our disposal than the Greeks ever did. But that increase in quantity has brought with it a decrease in relevance and personal utility. The more bits of information we consume, the less we do with what we already possess.
Unlike the Athenians, who at least liked to discuss matters at an intellectual level, we have little use for such discipline, preferring to spend our time trading funny memes and outrage-bait. Few pause to ask whether all this furious "info-tivity" actually accomplishes anything meaningful. We fancy ourselves informed and in the know, but at the end of the day, would our lives look any better, to an outside observer, than the lives of those not so informed?
But the relentless flow of electronic information triggers in us a sort of hyper-vigilance. Our brains act as if we’ve been stationed in a watchtower, scanning the horizon for threats. And of course, some degree of vigilance is necessary. But not everyone is called to the tower.
Some must always stand guard. But whole communities are not deployed to the watch-tower as one man. No, a few are chosen and assigned the task, so that the remainder might pursue their own vocations with the knowledge that someone is on the lookout for possible threats. Ideally, trusted watchmen report to trusted leaders with the sagacity to sift their reports and evaluate what’s relevant for the decisions that need to be made.
Our problem is that we've all gathered around the watch-towers listening to the men on top, day in and day out, instead of taking responsible action in our own domains. Without faithful men on guard—without responsible leadership—there is a great deal of anxiety in the people, which we seek to assuage by keeping our eyes constantly fixed on the horizon.
The reality is that it is necessary for us to pay attention to what is going on. Like the men of Nehemiah's day, we've got to work with a trowel in one hand and a spear in the other. But sadly, for lack of faithful watchmen, many have become so fixated on the horizon that they've forgotten both trowel and spear.
It is a great irony that despite our constant vigilance, men such as we have become will nevertheless be caught off-guard when the enemy arrives.
Like deer caught in the headlights.