I’m aware I keep returning to the same tension, you’ve been very patient!
I actually agree with what seems to be on your heart; our culture desperately needs a recovery of relationship, vulnerability and genuine human connection.
But I think, in public spaces, we need to be especially vigilant not to unintentionally present those things as the solution to loneliness itself.
Human relationships are gifts, and precious ones. But they remain finite. Every friend, spouse, pastor and community is carrying the weight of their own humanity alongside ours. If we place on them an expectation that only God can carry, their inevitable limitations can begin to feel like betrayal and the consequences of that can be heartbreaking.
That distinction between being known by people and being known by God feels so important to me. The first is a gift. The second is a necessity. One enriches us profoundly; the other sustains the full weight of who we are.
I agree with the distinction, and I think it is necessary. Human beings cannot carry what only God can carry.
But I’m not affirming that human relationships solve loneliness in an ultimate sense. but that we have become strangely comfortable being exposed to systems that do not love us, while remaining hidden from people who might.
Being known by God is a necessity. Being known by people is not salvation, but it is still part of the human design. The danger is not expecting too much from people; it is expecting almost nothing from them while giving machines almost everything.🤗
A lot of what you wrote resonated, especially the distinction between prediction and relationship. “It isn’t understanding. It’s prediction.” feels particularly important in a culture that increasingly confuses information with knowing.
But as I read, I also felt that we sometimes overestimate what human beings can realistically carry of one another. An algorithm accumulates information because it records endlessly and bears none of the weight. Human knowing is different. It is costly. It requires attention, presence, memory, patience, care, all while carrying the realities of one’s own life.
I think that’s why I continue to hesitate , as I’ve commented before (☺️) at the idea that a lack of access is usually the whole explanation. Sometimes withholding is avoidance, yes. But sometimes it’s stewardship; a recognition that no human being can fully carry another in the way God can.
Which, I think, brings me back to the line between information and understanding. The algorithm may possess so much more information. A friend may possess so much more understanding. Those don’t seem to be the same thing. Maybe the costliness of human knowing is precisely what makes it so precious.
I think this is a fair caution, especially the point that human knowing is costly.
But I’d separate wise withholding from habitual hiding. Not everything should be shared with everyone, and some things belong before God alone. post is aimed at the modern irony that we often “steward” our vulnerability away from people while unintentionally surrendering it to systems. 😀
So yes, a friend cannot carry the full weight of me. But a friend does not need to carry the full weight of me to know me meaningfully. Partial, loving, costly knowledge is still better than total, loveless prediction. 😅
I don’t know anyone I trust with this level of knowledge about me. Now I trust my wife but I don’t trust how she will feel if she knew the unspoken nuances of my inner workings. I trust only God with these things.
We forget algorithms never forget what they learn. We forget there are humans willing to leverage our entire being if such leverage is to their advantage.
Most of us have a hefty distrust of people in general. We have built walls to protect ourselves.
I think many of us trust God with the full archive of who we are, but we are much more cautious with people because people can mishandle what they know. Even when they love us, they can still be overwhelmed, wounded, judgemental, careless, or simply human.
And you’re right, algorithms never forget. That is part of what makes the whole thing unsettling. They can collect the kind of detail we would be terrified for a person to have, yet because they do it quietly and conveniently, we often don’t feel the weight of it.
Maybe part of the issue is that our distrust of people has pushed us into a strange place. We hide from humans because humans can hurt us, but then expose ourselves to systems that do not love us at all. That tension is exactly what I was trying to sit with.
I’m aware I keep returning to the same tension, you’ve been very patient!
I actually agree with what seems to be on your heart; our culture desperately needs a recovery of relationship, vulnerability and genuine human connection.
But I think, in public spaces, we need to be especially vigilant not to unintentionally present those things as the solution to loneliness itself.
Human relationships are gifts, and precious ones. But they remain finite. Every friend, spouse, pastor and community is carrying the weight of their own humanity alongside ours. If we place on them an expectation that only God can carry, their inevitable limitations can begin to feel like betrayal and the consequences of that can be heartbreaking.
That distinction between being known by people and being known by God feels so important to me. The first is a gift. The second is a necessity. One enriches us profoundly; the other sustains the full weight of who we are.
I agree with the distinction, and I think it is necessary. Human beings cannot carry what only God can carry.
But I’m not affirming that human relationships solve loneliness in an ultimate sense. but that we have become strangely comfortable being exposed to systems that do not love us, while remaining hidden from people who might.
Being known by God is a necessity. Being known by people is not salvation, but it is still part of the human design. The danger is not expecting too much from people; it is expecting almost nothing from them while giving machines almost everything.🤗
A lot of what you wrote resonated, especially the distinction between prediction and relationship. “It isn’t understanding. It’s prediction.” feels particularly important in a culture that increasingly confuses information with knowing.
But as I read, I also felt that we sometimes overestimate what human beings can realistically carry of one another. An algorithm accumulates information because it records endlessly and bears none of the weight. Human knowing is different. It is costly. It requires attention, presence, memory, patience, care, all while carrying the realities of one’s own life.
I think that’s why I continue to hesitate , as I’ve commented before (☺️) at the idea that a lack of access is usually the whole explanation. Sometimes withholding is avoidance, yes. But sometimes it’s stewardship; a recognition that no human being can fully carry another in the way God can.
Which, I think, brings me back to the line between information and understanding. The algorithm may possess so much more information. A friend may possess so much more understanding. Those don’t seem to be the same thing. Maybe the costliness of human knowing is precisely what makes it so precious.
I think this is a fair caution, especially the point that human knowing is costly.
But I’d separate wise withholding from habitual hiding. Not everything should be shared with everyone, and some things belong before God alone. post is aimed at the modern irony that we often “steward” our vulnerability away from people while unintentionally surrendering it to systems. 😀
So yes, a friend cannot carry the full weight of me. But a friend does not need to carry the full weight of me to know me meaningfully. Partial, loving, costly knowledge is still better than total, loveless prediction. 😅
I don’t know anyone I trust with this level of knowledge about me. Now I trust my wife but I don’t trust how she will feel if she knew the unspoken nuances of my inner workings. I trust only God with these things.
We forget algorithms never forget what they learn. We forget there are humans willing to leverage our entire being if such leverage is to their advantage.
Most of us have a hefty distrust of people in general. We have built walls to protect ourselves.
This is such an honest and important point.
I think many of us trust God with the full archive of who we are, but we are much more cautious with people because people can mishandle what they know. Even when they love us, they can still be overwhelmed, wounded, judgemental, careless, or simply human.
And you’re right, algorithms never forget. That is part of what makes the whole thing unsettling. They can collect the kind of detail we would be terrified for a person to have, yet because they do it quietly and conveniently, we often don’t feel the weight of it.
Maybe part of the issue is that our distrust of people has pushed us into a strange place. We hide from humans because humans can hurt us, but then expose ourselves to systems that do not love us at all. That tension is exactly what I was trying to sit with.