KONY 2012: Hope for America and Danger for the Future

If you don’t live under a rock, you will know that this was a big week for Jason Russell and his non-profit organization Invisible Children.  They released the mini-movie entitled KONY 2012 and within 48 hours it went viral across the web.  How do I know that this is a big deal?  Because I don’t even have a facebook account and I heard so much buzz on or off the internet that it made me wonder what was capturing everyone’s attention.

The video sparks many reactions and I, like millions of others, was moved.  In response, I am posting a two-part series to identify the promise and the scare behind this movement.  By design, The Workshop of Worship is about “reclaiming the carefree spirit of a childlike faith,” but the reality of our fallen world is that few things are truly “carefree.”  And so I write about ideas more than anything, whether in an attitude of wonder and reverence or an academic mindset.  These next few posts are no exception.  By the time I can actually get my thoughts written down and published it may be old news.  A busy life might interfere with my aspirations of writing and the hype may have passed, but that is also a portion of the message behind part two so stick with me!

In the meantime, if you have not seen the video yet, allow me to follow my orders and repost it.  You may see the full video below or visit http://www2.invisiblechildren.com/videos.

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Video

Ms. Vera

This past weekend my school was honored at the regional meeting of ACSI (Association of Christian Schools International) where accreditation was officially bestowed upon our band of thirty some educators.  School was closed on Friday as the teachers and staff traveled up to Lancaster PA to receive the award.  On this occasion one of my colleagues was kind enough to drive me, sparing me an otherwise lonely commute and offering a safer ride through snow-covered hills in a beastly Hummer truck.

Before leaving the park-n-ride, she punched in the coordinates to our destination and entrusted her journey to Vera, the oh so seductive British voice filtering through a GPS device.  I acted as co-pilot with my own directions, conveniently printed from mapquest.com.  Armed with directional guides, this hour trip was failproof.

That is, until Mapquest confused the numbers on two interweaving roads.  I ditched the paper in disappointment and scanned the road signs.  About ten minutes later – no, Vera says it was 7 minutes 30 seconds  and 5.9 miles later – we came to an intersection with no option but to turn.  Vera said to turn left.  I checked the road signs and questioned the British woman’s logic.  Turning left would mean traveling South, yet geography taught me that Lancaster was North.  I overruled the machine and our Hummer turned right (from the left turn lane, no less)!  Vera’s pride was wounded as she felt the power button’s cruel effect.  And within about an hour’s time, we arrived in Lancaster.

Following the ceremony, me and my friend shopped around for a coveted Pittsburgh Steelers jersey, a gift for her daughter if we could ever find one.  Both outlet centers in Lancaster fell short.  Target had no licensed merchandise.  Our best lead, offered by a store clerk who didn’t know if we should take the road West or East, was a shopping mall.  Thus, driving without Vera and without a Pennsylvania map, I appealed to my Boy Scout instinct in hopes that we might find the mall.

Indeed, we reached our destination.  As soon as the truck set in park, I pumped my fist into the air, cheered, and leaped out of the vehicle in triumph.  We made it!  (and found the only Steelers jersey for sale within a 20-mile radius)

Even if we had entrusted Vera to steer us toward our destination, accomplishing the feat would never have inspired such a reaction in me.  GPS devices do the most good for people when stored in their boxes, sitting on a shelf.  As for me, I’m willing to sacrifice the convenience or security that Vera promises.  I’d much sooner trust an old-fashioned map and some rusted road signs.

Scoop