Mike Gilland
“Constant change is here to stay…” That is an expression that my fellow pastors at our church in Orlando would often utter, especially when we would be facing what seemed to be another new and rather unexpected direction in our fellowship. It was as if the only dependable routine that we could count on would be the presence of something in the process of change.
How true that is in our everyday life too. In our businesses and in our home life, just about everything has evolved to significant degrees when we compare our day-to-day life to how we lived in the 1980s.
Recently, I had a discussion with Dr. Michael Strawser, a professor of communications at the University of Central Florida in Orlando. He was using a metaphor of a Rolodex file to bring a point, something that was a mainstay to just about every office desk in America.
There were different varieties of Rolodex systems, some were like the one I used, a curved desktop thumb file, holding insertable cardstock paper, usually much smaller than 3”x5” index cards, all divided alphabetically.
In their heyday, these files provided enough space for the name, phone number and addresses, and even details about businesses or families. Some people would pull out the card when calling the named friend or acquaintance, even using the backside of the card when needed.
After use, the card could be pushed back into place, and the file system was restored and ready, waiting for its next use.
I remember a certain sadness that came over me not long after entering the digital file system phase, which immediately replaced my trusty Rolodex. My first unit was a small digital phone directory, one that fit into my pocket. That unit was quickly replaced by my first Palm Pilot, then a Compaq mini-computer.
Finally, as smartphones became ubiquitous, all such needs for data control were met by my iPhone, with added abilities for taking and storing photographs and even high-quality videos.
Why the sadness? I think it was because there is a certain feeling of comfort and nostalgia, even capable of transporting me back to where I was on the day that I created that little file card. I missed that comfortable feeling of looking down upon a hand-written name and number, maybe even containing a bit of doodling inspired by that moment of conversation.
All of that was now replaced by the rather cold and sterile digital information presented on an LED screen.
Ultimately, I got rid of my Rolodex altogether and accepted the “new and improved” system that tech had brought our way. Yet, my memory of such old-school ways made me appreciate all the more the things of God which don’t, and never will change.
As the author of Hebrews wrote in chapter 13, verse 8: “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever.”