Connectivity

November 24, 2017

Connectivity. I’m not sure what else to call it. Today, I filled the firewood bin in the back room, then did some work with the drill press I had given my son a few years back. I then drove to Dunkirk to deposit a couple checks into our account before visiting one of our members who had sprained an ankle. (She must be doing OK; I didn’t find her home). When I returned home, I worked on Sunday’s sermon, then tackled a project with the table saw.

All these activities have at least one thing in common. They involved tools and systems that were already in place, waiting for me to utilize them. The firewood bin a friend made for me a few years ago, the stove was here when we moved in. The drill press was my grandfather’s; it is almost as old as I am, and is the product of engineering, metallurgy, skilled machining and assembly. It was transported from the factory to the store where my grandfather bought it by a truck driven on roads laid out and paved sixty years ago. You can see where this is going. Every single thing I did today involved countless people, past and present, who had skills and interacted with countless others. Everything I did was made possible by this web of life we call civilization. My part in it was minuscule, a tiny fraction of a whole far bigger than we usually imagine.

I’ve worked in countries where the infrastructure we take for granted is almost non-existent, or seriously compromised; where the smallest task required great effort simply because the necessary materials weren’t available. I know people who pride themselves on their self-sufficiency, but in reality, there is no such thing. Even my Amish neighbors who stand outside much of our modern systems realize that they need one another. They live in deliberate community, very much aware that they need each other and us English.

I got a number of projects done today in part, because of my effort, but even more because of all the people, skills, and systems that lie behind all the stuff I use and all the things I do. That alone, is plenty of reason to give thanks. But there is more. That human connectivity is what God used to bring our salvation. His Son took on human flesh, lived among us, gave us life. That Good News has been passed along from one to another—faithful people who connected with others who then passed along the Message till it finally reached us. Without these connections, these human interactions, life as we know it, and as we know it can be, would be impossible. It is not, and I am connected with God himself because of this connectivity he wove into the very fabric of life.