Each week my wife and I make the pilgrimage to a friend’s house to watch our favorite television program: Lost. These friends never come to our house, nor is there much possibility that we will ever choose to watch Lost in our own home. Why? Because our friends possess a coveted treasure—56 inches of high-definition magnificence.
While at the moment it seems to most merely a luxury, the high-definition television set will soon become standard for households everywhere. In the meantime, we face a crucial midway point wherein people find themselves fascinated and transfixed by an advanced medium. The technological achievement of high-definition is not what makes it important. Rather, it’s the overwhelming impact it has on the foundational aspect of media—the image.
Those reading this magazine realize that we are living in an age dominated by the image. As literacy rates steadily decline and postmodern subjectivism and obsession with the surface take root in our culture, many find themselves drawn to visual mediums and repulsed by text.
This makes sense, as the written word has stopped progressing technologically. All that remains to advance in this arena is distribution and storage, and even that has begun to appear tired and repetitive. We can now store hundreds of works in a device the size of a single volume, all of which can be downloaded wirelessly. While convenient, this invention is hardly revolutionary. It doesn’t change the way we think about our reality. It is just novelty. The image, on the other hand, benefits from a steady stream of eye-popping breakthroughs—from black and white to color, from stills to moving pictures, from standard two-dimensional animation to three-dimensional computer-generated animation.
Now we find ourselves facing a most unique type of innovation—the kind we didn’t even know we needed. Like air conditioning, cell phones, and the Internet, we become acutely aware of our “need” once we experience high-definition. Unlike those more blatant conveniences, high-definition television affects us more subtly. In true postmodern fashion, simply having the concept explained does nothing to convince us. One must have a personal, subjective experience to become a believer.
Many churches and ministries have embraced this trend, ordering high-definition screens for worship services, Super Bowl parties, and film discussion groups. This is just the beginning; as high-definition becomes commonplace and affordable, it’s inevitable that even the most traditional of churches opt into the hi-def revolution. By then, it might be too late to stop and consider the impact of this trend and the implications of aligning it with a place of worship and the body of Christ.
But is there anything to consider? Many discount the advancement of the visual simply because it appears to pale in comparison to the cultural revolution sparked by such innovations as the printing press and the Internet. The distribution of the written word set in motion a huge change in thinking as individuals gained direct access to words and the ideas they articulated. The gradual improvement of the visual image has worked in more subtle ways—it has advanced in both distribution and immersion.
It used to be the case that any mention of television as “real” was ridiculed. Television was the opposite of real. In relation to real life, television was a shadow at best and parody at worst. Drama was heightened for effect, comedies pushed the absurd to the extreme, and even news coverage was often cursory and shallow. People recognized that if they were searching for reality, television was the wrong place to look. There are a number of reasons for this, but one major reason could be the prominence of advertising. At the advent of television, advertisements were blatantly worked into the programs, devaluing any semblance of reality that might have been upheld by the show.
As color television was introduced and the sets got bigger, television began to seriously affect our view of reality. We all wanted friends like Joey, Chandler, Rachel, Monica, Phoebe, and Ross. We began to show interest in being a forensic detective. Rather than accept the false premise of our favorite sitcom, we began to ask questions like, “How do these people pay their bills?” and “Why are these cases always so bizarre?” And so, television began its journey toward realism.
When the documentary became a popular television genre, it was more contrived and absurd than film documentary, to the point that it needed its own category, ironically dubbed “reality television.” We became comfortable with the concept of television having the capability of showing us reality as it is.
The introduction of high-definition finally tipped the scales and caused people to wholly embrace television’s “real” experience. Sony, unveiling a new line of high-definition products asks, “How does ordinary become extraordinary?” The answer: “All you need is a new way of seeing. Welcome to a new world. Sony HD World.” Not only is high-definition “real,” it’s more real than the “ordinary.”
In a culture that values entertainment above all else and interacts with screens more than human beings, high-definition television has the potential to establish itself as the primary outlet for real experience. Even now we find our conversations with others becoming more stunted and inauthentic. We know nothing about our neighbor, and small talk just doesn’t strike us as “real” enough. In fact, our most authentic and fulfilling conversations are about the things we saw on television the previous night.
We embrace the “real world” every night at prime time, and when we are confronted with our favorite experiences in high-definition, we find that everything else pales in comparison. The repercussions of this are frightening. The most obvious is that we begin to see true relationships— complete with probing questions and awkward answers—as old-fashioned and strained. We also become used to the producers of our new reality catering to our every whim. We become accustomed to being able to change the channel on reality if it strikes us as too unpleasant.
It would be wrong to claim that these things should keep Christians from buying high-definition television sets. What we should do, however, is take the time to think deeply about these dangers. Acknowledging our sinful nature means acknowledging that even technological breakthroughs meant to improve our lives can be warped and altered and even warp and alter us. The challenge we face is to use the product without letting it affect our view of reality, which shouldn’t be shaped by the technology and innovations around us but by the Word of God.
We must acknowledge the urgency with which television presents itself to us and guard against it. While there is no such thing as “must-see TV,” there are such things as urgent conversations and imperative relationships. Further, it is important that we maintain diligent resistance against the mindset that television feeds. Reality, and the relationships that make up that reality, do not exist at our convenience or for our entertainment. We cannot simply change the channel on a bad friend or an unpleasant situation. The truth is that how clearly we see what is real and what is not has nothing to do with a television screen, high-definition or otherwise.
Richard Clark is the editor-in-chief and one of the founders of Christ and Pop Culture, an online magazine that attempts to discuss and think rightly about the common knowledge of our age. He lives in Louisville, KY, and is a Masters in Divinity student at Southern Baptist Theological Seminary.