Note: The following is an excerpt from my new book Scroll Less, Live More: 10 Healthy Tech Habits for Teens. You can order the book from Amazon here.
Not long ago I read an article about how teenagers in the 2020s are much less likely to want a driver’s license or a car compared to teenagers just a few years ago. While the reason for this isn’t entirely clear, some writers have wondered if teens just don’t have as much reason to drive as people of earlier generations did. Going to the mall is less appealing when we can buy everything online. Going to the movie theater is unnecessary when we have access to streaming services. If we can have so many experiences on our screens, why go to the trouble of going out?
Digital technology often promises us some kind of connection with people and places in the world. But how many times do we just scroll endlessly, like a bunch of pictures, and then look up to find that the day is done? That’s not really living life, is it? That’s more like being trapped in a fake world. In the last chapter we learned that if we want to be wise with our technology, we have to pursue purity. Purity isn’t just about avoiding certain things though. It’s also about investing in the good work God has put in front of us in this world. Wisdom means living a life too big for screens.
The Sluggard
The wisdom literature of the Bible is wonderful. It speaks to the whole of life in God’s big world; it’s way more than a list of rules. In wisdom literature we learn about God, ourselves, and the world through stories and characters that illustrate truth. We read stories about people who lost everything and then gained it back, teaching us deep truths about God’s character and the way life works. We get to look into a king’s diary to see how a rich and powerful man realized that all the pleasures of the world couldn’t fully satisfy him. We read parables about food, friendship, money, sex, parents, alcohol, whom to marry, whom not to trust, and many other topics.
Wisdom literature also gives us examples of both wise living and foolish living. One character who comes up a lot in the wisdom literature of the Bible is the sluggard.
Who is the sluggard? In sum, he’s someone who wants to take without giving. Christians have often defined the sluggard as a lazy person, and that’s certainly part of it. But the problem with understanding the sluggard as just a lazy person is that the sluggard’s real problem is not activity but attitude. The author of Proverbs 24 included a story about walking past property that belonged to a man deemed a sluggard. Now, if a sluggard were simply a lazy person, it might be shocking that this man managed to afford and buy his own real estate. But the author didn’t express any surprise at this. Instead, what he noticed is that the sluggard had not cared for the property:
I passed by the field of a sluggard, by the vineyard of a man lacking sense, and behold, it was all overgrown with thorns; the ground was covered with nettles, and its stone wall was broken down. (Prov. 24:30–31)
We’re not told who planted this vineyard or who built up the stone wall. Maybe it was the man’s father. But I tend to suspect that it was actually the sluggard himself who did this work back in the day. Starting something—a new school year, a new job, a new role—is often so exciting that we don’t struggle with it at first. Our good intentions are like a sugar rush: They power us through, giving us enough energy and hype to start strong. But as the novelty wears off, our interest and efforts fade.
For many years I had an odd (and surprisingly expensive) habit of buying journals. I would go into a bookstore and find one that I thought looked really cool, as if it belonged to Leonardo da Vinci or Indiana Jones. I’d buy it and tell myself, “I’m going to use this journal. I’ll write about my day or keep notes from sermons or Bible study here. I’ll fill up this journal for sure!” And I did use it—for a few weeks. But then my journaling habit would die a sudden death. And then I would tell myself, “The real issue is that I didn’t like this journal enough. It was too big, the paper was too thin, and the cover was not exactly what I wanted.” The less I used the journal, the more I disliked it, and the more I disliked it, the more I wanted a new one. Meanwhile, my money would disappear twenty-five dollars at a time, not because I really needed more journals but because starting a new thing was easier than keeping the old thing going.
In the Bible, the sluggard is unwilling to take care of things and to continue the hard and often boring work of consistently being responsible. As Proverbs 26:14 says,
As a door turns on its hinges, so does a sluggard on his bed.
To the sluggard, staying in bed is simply more appealing than getting going. He thinks that the easiest way to get through the day is to avoid making commitments in the first place and to avoid anybody or anything that might confront him with the truth.
Most of us are not tasked with maintaining a vineyard or a stone wall. In Bible times, however, a vineyard was not just a piece of farmland. It was a sign of God’s blessing, a source of delight and nourishment that was understood to be a gift from the Father of all gifts. And a stone wall was not just lawn decoration. It was a means of protecting that gift from wild animals that might get in and damage or destroy it. To ignore your vineyard and its wall was a way of being radically unthankful for the blessings and protection God had given you. The sluggard looked at God’s generosity and the responsibility to guard it and said, “No thanks.” Isn’t it easy for us to have the same attitude today?
Escaping into the Screen
I really enjoy the social media accounts of US national parks. Just about every day, the folks who run these accounts post stunning photographs of some of America’s most beautiful places. One place that I have a weakness for is Arches National Park in Utah. I’ve never been there, but every picture of those magnificent burnt orange rock arches makes me want to throw my luggage and my family in the car and say, “We’re going!”
Sometimes I wonder why I haven’t done this yet. Yes, Arches National Park is a very long drive from my home in Louisville, Kentucky. Yes, I’d probably have to take several days off work. Yes, it’s hot in Utah! These are good reasons to plan a trip carefully and wisely. But they’re not good reasons to never go. I worry that one reason I haven’t done what it takes to visit Arches National Park yet is actually those social media accounts. I’ve stared at so many beautiful rock formations on my screen that I can’t help but wonder if some part of me feels as if I don’t really need to go. Ultimately, I can choose to do all that work and make sacrifices to prepare for the trip, or I can just open Instagram and feel as if I’m there.
Maybe you can relate to this on some level. Our modern technology is very good at its job. Within seconds we can be transported anywhere. We can see and talk to almost anybody. We can watch concerts we’ve never attended, take classes we’ve never registered for, and look at artifacts located on the other side of the world. To be sure, our devices can give us useful, valuable experiences. I certainly don’t resent the fact that I can Zoom with my friend in England or rewatch Coldplay’s iconic 2002 Glastonbury Festival performance. But if we’re being honest, for every one way in which our digital technology can help us have these kinds of mountaintop experiences, there are a hundred ways in which we use these tools to just keep clicking and scrolling mindlessly.
This is devastating because, as exciting as the world of our phones and apps can feel, the grandest opportunities, the biggest joys, and the best memories are made when we’re not using them. Life is so much bigger, brighter, and better than anything that fits on a screen.
No matter who you are, if you’re reading this sentence right now, you have a world of work, relationships, talents, and interests that God has given you. God has put you in your particular home, and you have responsibilities and opportunities to invest yourself in that home so that God gets glory and you get joy. If you’re in school, God has put you in that particular school for the same reason. God has given you friends so that you can love and be loved in a way that shows his goodness. God has given you talents and hobbies so that you can master them and share them with others.
Your life is not what’s on your feed. Your life is not made up of clicks or downloads. Your life—your real life, the life you live in a body made in the image of God—is your “vineyard.” God chose to bless you with it. And he’s calling you to cultivate and guard it.
