This is an exercise in mirror reading.
There is no social group for me. I’m an alien in virtually every human context, in part because I am “not of this world” (Romans 12:2) —
Even among my fellow Christians, I am way out there. Not many will work with me, and that is as it should be. Being really good at tech support requires that you operate outside the common social sphere. That’s the paradox of human social context. If you are really good inside it, you can’t be removed enough to understand too much.
In spiritual terms, “tech support” covers a lot more ground than just human technology. Humans are themselves a form of technology, if you will. Granted, most serious computer nerds are really good with computers precisely because they aren’t good with humans, but I’m more than mere computer tech support. Rather, that’s a parable for what I do in general.
Instead of being wholly incompetent with social situations, perhaps it’s that I understand them all too well from the moral point of view. I can participate well enough, but frankly I’d rather not get too much of that. I lose sight of who I am when I engage the social context itself. My calling requires that I keep my social contacts few and short. The biblical moral framework is the science/technology to which I adhere for this work. Clinging to God in His Realm means clinging less to humans in their realm.
If we shift over to the virtual world, it’s like a parallel universe: Any given personal character manifests quite differently. It’s not that I am different, but the context is different. In some ways, it’s radically different. Online I am very much a social leader, insofar as there are social leaders. That’s why I refer to myself as an online pastor/elder — only in the virtual world am I so deeply engaged directly in humans. That’s the paradox of virtual reality. We aren’t really engaged at all, in one sense, yet our contacts online do affect us very much, even in meat space. It’s not that virtual space takes so much away, as it offers something totally different than meat space. There’s an overlap in who we are, but we should remain conscious of what does not carry across.
This is why, in meat space, I would prefer jobs that don’t require much contact with humans. I’m human tech support; my whole orientation makes me most useful out of the limelight. I can lead when it’s necessary, but my orientation is support from behind the scenes. I surrender that lead as quickly as possible, and simply advise and implement decisions others make. I have to be familiar with a lot of things, but not so highly wired into any of them as to hold true expertise in those things. General competence is sufficient because it really does cover a wide span. I have to recognize expertise in others so I’ll know when to pass the buck, and how much of it to pass.
If you were to confine your ruminations to behavioral science as this world regards it, you’d get me wrong. Every personality inventory leaves me deeply frustrated because it is inherently incapable of offering anything that genuinely fits me. So while your MBTI may offer something you think you can use with me, you’ll frustrate the hell out of me and I won’t tolerate much of you. You’ll probably fail completely to understand so long as you believe in that system. You would have to come out of that silly little contraption into a much different matrix to begin seeing the reality. The complexity of our reality is not visible from within it. You can only understand it from a system designed and implemented outside this universe, from the One who designed all this and is the only One fit to judge it.
That’s the system to which I cling. It permeates our reality and explains it as fully as anything can or ever will. This is the system at which I seek expertise, and it covers an awful lot of territory. It’s not about directing your steps, but informing you of all the options and letting you take your own path.
You decide; I’ll play my part in making it happen. I’m your tech support.
