What images come to mind when you see the word “web”? Most commonly we think about spiders weaving their silken threads in plants or under eaves. There is the iconic image of Charlotte’s web, spelling out words to save Wilbur the pig in E. B. White’s classic book. Webs are both things of beauty as well as things of interest, particularly in their ability to link together objects not normally connected. This is true both of literal spiders’ webs and metaphorical “connectors” like the internet’s World Wide Web.
Foreign policy expert Anne-Marie Slaughter recently wrote a book called “The Chessboard and the Web: Strategies of Connection in a Networked World.” She noted that for far too long, foreign-policy makers have acted like international relations are a giant game of chess. They have treated issues between countries as if it was a “zero-sum” chess game; either one’s pieces advanced and conquered enemy territory or one’s own realm was at risk from invading pawns, knights, and rooks. This two-dimensional approach to life means that things are literally black and white, my team vs. your team. And every decision either helps advance my foot soldiers to victory or acts to impede our nation’s goals.
By contrast, the reality of contemporary society is that humanity is now interconnected through a global network of industry, information, and technology. Only a portion today of the items sold in our grocery stores come from local, regional, or even American sources. According to Consumer Reports, very few products sold in the U.S. in certain categories, such as consumer electronics and clothing, are actually produced here. That need not be a bad thing; and it should be noted that American manufacturing jobs increased from 2010–2015 in many other industry sectors.
The point is that we live in a society that is more like a web than a chessboard. There are thin threads connecting us to others around us—a web of mutual interdependence that affects the things we buy, the health care we receive, the public safety we value, the energy we use, and the entertainment we enjoy.
All this is relevant in this Easter season when we consider how the good news of Christ’s resurrection was intentionally shared long ago. It wasn’t written on the clouds in order to awe all humanity into faithful submission. It wasn’t emblazoned on military shields so that armies could conquer their enemies in the name of Christ (although 300 years later, Constantine was tempted to try this approach). It wasn’t treated like a secret weapon to help us win the “chess match” of life. The good news of Easter was told to a group of disciples—women and men, moving through the city in the early hours of Easter, timidly gathering in an upper room behind locked doors, grieving followers of Jesus unsure what awaited them.
On Easter they became “thread-weavers,” sewing the good news into their hearts and then stitching it into the fabric of society around them—telling their families, friends, strangers gathered for Pentecost, the people of foreign lands far away. For centuries, Christ’s story has been a global web that connects us one to another—a message of hope that conquers all worldly despair, a promise of resurrection that counters all grief over death. Celebrate that God in Christ calls you into this web-making work. Your task is to live the good news, share the good news, and celebrate the grace of God’s web still going forth into all the world.
—Randy Bush