Thursday, 20 January 2011

Access no areas

At 7.30 one morning last year, I arrived at work and pressed my ID badge up against the reader. Nothing strange there.

Except, nothing happened. No green light, no revolving door. Nothing. The thin red light shone as bright as before.

I did the usual human trick of trying the same thing again (but turned the badge over). That was bound to work.

Nothing happened again. Same little red stripe of light looking at me dispassionately. (This was the right building, thanks for asking). And I wasn't made redundant the previous working day. Was I?

Something was clearly wrong. So I tried two other doors and the same thing.

On the way to the security guard I got to thinking. Have I been "deleted"? If the events of the previous two weeks are anything to go by, then anything is possible. There were a load of people put at risk of redundancy, but I wasn't one of them.

The experience got me thinking about what it means to have access.

And what it means to give access. Who has access to you? Who do I give access to my inner thoughts. My wife, my friends, my parents?

Should just
anyone have access to me? Is it better to isolate and avoid all the hassle? Probably not.

Aren't we born for relationship? We thrive in community settings - particularly when those are spaces of grace and make room for diversity.

It's either that or isolated introversion (is there any other kind?). That often leads to a calloused heart. Which we could all do without, I'm sure.

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