Technology

My hand paused with the stylus in it.  I was staring at the touch screen at the hardware store checkout.  The screen read, “Thank you…,” displaying my whole name.  This was a first and I didn’t like it.  I didn’t like it one bit. I know.  My life is embedded in that technology out there.  My name, my social, credit card accounts, bank accounts, personal information, all are available for someone.  It has to be this way to conduct business, at least conveniently.  But if the wrong person gets ahold of any of this my life can become a living hell. We’re new in town, only known by a few dozen people so far.  I’m certain that not one person in that retail store knew my name.  The clerk in front of me was a complete stranger.  But there is my name on the screen and nobody needed to ask me.  Someone in a corporate office somewhere in that organization decided that it would be a nice touch to thank a customer personally when in fact it’s not personal in any sense of the word, it’s invasive. My name is a part of my self, even if I don’t like my name.  A lot of people think they know how to spell my first name without asking, and as for my surname, it’s shock and awe on my part for the person who gets it right the first time.  In fact, I have seriously thought about dropping the use of my clumsy German last name and using my middle name instead, but my wife won’t let me. Name has again entered culture as a source of power.  It’s technological power now, rather than the superstitious power of ancient times.  In both ages, knowing someone’s name, one knows the person and has power over them, and to know a person one can…  well, you know.  The only one I can trust with my name is the entity I sometimes call God, although that’s not a name.  It’s a title.  This entity, this higher power, I believe has a hold on me for purposes that, unlike some people, I can trust.  I know this is shaky ground at times because it’s a call to faith and my faith is uncertain often as not.  Interestingly, when faith is weakest, so often it seems like something, or someone, from outside my own self grasps on to me and pulls me back into sanity. Maybe that’s what it really means to have a relationship with God.