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During Advent and Christmas, the traditional season of waiting and expectation, many of us face the thin line that separates honoring a loved one and buying into materialism. We spend time with family and friends, contemplating the gift of community. We decorate our homes and attend church socials, reveling in the beauty of tradition. Then we shop. And though we teach our children early to value Christmas for more than the gifts, the sweaters keep getting softer, the tools keep getting tougher, and the technology just keeps getting cooler. 

For many, it's the technology that's toughest to resist, and the stores seem to know it. They'll wrap the tech toys in bright red bows, tempting us to imagine what that particular iPod, computer, cell phone, or DVD might look like under the Christmas tree. And this year, as every other, many will take this opportunity to reflect on whether the glory of man-made creations detracts from the glory of the Incarnation.

Let's face it. We use technology. Sometimes we abuse it—and sadly, it all too often uses and abuses us. But like most other American consumers, Christians have a love affair with technology: the scientific advancements that make computers smaller and faster, televisions larger and clearer. Tiny computer chips and slim battery-powered boxes make conversations more portable. They allow individuals to dance through life with a personal soundtrack that blocks out the noisiness of communal living. 

Within the Christian community, technology has always attracted detractors. Some intentionally isolate themselves from technological advancements. Others fuss about its effects on the written word. Many critics caution that the rapid advancement of technology may be a sign of man's attempts to avoid dependence on God. Have the children of God traded manna in the wilderness for the gluttony of the digital age?

Maybe so. But we ought to remember that Christianity has a long tradition of eager participation in technological advancements. In fact, Christians have been using technology to advance their ministry and mission since the days of Johann Gutenberg. Like the printing press, digital technology (computers, mp3 players, and DVDs) offers the possibility of getting Scripture to the masses in unprecedented ways. Seminaries are taking advantage of the internet to train pastors around the globe.

Traditionally, missionaries have been among the first to embrace technological advancements—from Roman roads to jungle flight paths. In some parts of the world, even the internet has made good on its promise to open new doors to the gospel.

Of course, many American churches have embraced technology too. From satellite broadcasting to podcasting, churches have welcomed new ways of communicating their message, increasing membership and keeping the community connected. Technology can help reach the previously unchurched, and it has even impacted the way churches view their role in the world. If it weren't for television, would churches have pop-culture to interact with (let alone redeem)?

But technology so easily slips from constructive to coercive. In spite, or perhaps because, of its usefulness, the "problem" of technology continues to plague Christian thinkers. We divide it into categories: internet technology, biotechnology, culture and technology. We give technology its own category on our websites (how very meta- of us!). We devote entire magazine issues to exploring the many facets of technology's impact on our material and spiritual lives. We wonder whether it's the existence of technology that makes such a distinction possible in the first place. 

And we're right to do so. As Christians, we're called to develop discernment and stewardship. We're called to live in community and to use our material, intellectual, and spiritual resources well. But the same technologies that bring people together also promote individualism. While they can more efficiently distribute material resources, not all technology was born of necessity. In pursuit of the latest tool (or toy), we can easily slip into a spiritually deadening materialism, and dull our senses and our intellect with more information than we really need.

Can we bring ourselves to think critically about technology? What will we discover when we question the assumption that advancement equals progress? As we resist technology's lures, we need to carve out space to use technology more wisely, in pursuit of God. If technology offers us the future, can we take advantage of the vision?

While these are all serious questions, ultimately it's not the technology that needs to be held to the light. It's our hearts. Technology will tempt, but it never makes the choices for us. If technology replaces community or forges counterfeit reality, it's because humans made that trade-off. As we wait expectantly for the kingdom, we must have the courage to look at both how we use technology and why. After all, what does it profit a man if he loses his soul faster, more efficiently, and with a clearer picture?

Melody Pugh is a Chicago-based freelance writer and graduate student in the humanities.