too much is too much

I was recently reading yet another warning about the harmful effects our screens are having on our brains, bodies, and behaviors.  This is particularly so for those who are young, as healthy neurological pathways are being disrupted, obesity is on the rise, and antisocial patterns are deepening.  It's likely that, eventually, there will be a move to find ways to curb our enthusiasm for ingesting ever-increasing volumes of data, images, and virtual experiences.

It seems as if human beings are always getting into trouble with novelties, from eating forbidden fruit to subjugating foreign peoples to splitting the atom to creating a novel intelligence.  Novelty is worth exploring, as it can be part of God's mandate that we fill the earth and subdue it, utilizing our image-bearing characteristics of curiosity and imagination.  But we have always needed to curb our enthusiasm, as God's Word advises.

The venerable Book of Proverbs is a good guide for our pursuit of novelty.  Proverbs 25:16 warns seekers after sweetness - a novelty in ancient cultures - if you find honey, eat just enough - too much of it, and you will vomit.  Enjoy the sweet delicacy, but don't puke on it.  A few verses later, we're reminded of the honey problem - it is good not to eat too much honey - but then warned about overindulging our current appetite for knowledge - nor is it honorable to search out matters that are too deep (25:21).  

That ancient virtue of temperance - note, not abstinence - is what is advised.  We need to know our God-given limits, to ask Him to remind us of them, and to encourage one another to live within them.  David shows us how:  My heart is not proud, Lord, my eyes are not haughty; I do not concern myself with great matters, or things too wonderful for me.  But I have calmed and quieted myself, like a weaned child with its mother; like a weaned child, I am content.  Like weaned children, as we explore the novelties of the big, wide world, and its web, let's find ways to be content in the Presence of The One Who mothers us along the novel way.