Most of us work every day toward the same goal: to thrive in the place we are set, to be loved and valued by our community, to serve our neighbors well.
And yet, there is an undercurrent to American life. It feels something akin to anxiety mixed with dread. Without our consent, we've been hoisted into a world of significant cultural and technological change and are beginning to wonder if these changes are for the better.
In our increasingly automated world, what is the worth of a human being? And could a guy who lived 2,000 years ago possibly have anything to offer us?
Let's start with how we got here. The dawn of our current digital era promised a lot: steady work, boundless innovation, machines to enact our ideas more efficiently. The hopes were astronomical. Computers would usher in a new era of lasting peace, true equity, and boundless wealth.
Many decades in, it's undeniably true that many aspects of an instantly interconnected world are more convenient. We can carry an endless sea of photos, songs, and games in our pocket. With the same device, we can order kalbi chicken from across town and play chess in real time with a stranger on the other side of the planet.
But has the juice been worth the squeeze? Instead of deeper connectedness, we face increasing isolation. Instantaneous communication hasn't brought peace, but more clearly fractured us into tribes.
Now, AI is offering another round of promises before we've even had the chance to assess the last phase of the digital revolution. And this time it’s coming for the things we thought were uniquely ours. Writing, drawing, composing— what used to take a lifetime now takes seconds. While humans can probably do it better, they can’t do it faster or cheaper.
The pressures of our work have us looking for ease and comfort wherever we can get it, and as social bonds disintegrate, our go-to distraction is digital. The algorithms are collating us into target demographics that more efficiently absorb our money and time. Underneath all this is a persistent angst: Are we worth anything if we can't produce? If machines do everything more efficiently, won't they eventually replace me?
Back to our guy from 2,000 years ago— what could Jesus actually have to say about a world in turmoil? While the problems of Jesus’ day looked different, he was personally acquainted with a society under threat. He was born into an occupied, oppressed people group. In an agrarian world, one bad season or one hard Roman tax could end a family. A continual fear of "is there enough?" permeated everything.
He didn't come from a noble family. He was born in a small village with no formal education and no status. Before he turned 30, he just worked as a carpenter— the same job his dad did.
And yet there was something about the way he viewed the world. Something about the way he showed up. Something about his presence and power in people’s lives that made crowds come and see him. It is said that people were interested because “he taught with authority” — not just with the stale words of the religious establishment. He understood what people were feeling and had something to offer them.
What were his teachings about? Well— he said that a human being’s value to God is beyond understanding. It’s more than just our ability to be productive. The biblical narrative claims that every human being has innate worth because we are created and somehow reflect the beauty and image of God. Here's how he put it in the Gospel of Luke:
“What’s the price of two or three pet canaries? Some loose change, right? But God never overlooks a single one. And he pays even greater attention to you, down to the last detail––even numbering the hairs on your head! So don’t be intimidated by all this bully talk. You’re worth more than a million canaries.” Luke 12:6-7 MSG
And there’s another famous passage from the Gospel of John:
“This is how much God loved the world: He gave his Son, his one and only Son. And this is why: so that no one need be destroyed; by believing in him, anyone can have a whole and lasting life.” John 3:16 MSG
What if, with Jesus, we don’t have to fear replacement at all? What if, by trusting him, we can withstand the most difficult of times? If our worth is infinite to the God who designed everything we know, what could that open us up to become?