The Reading Epidemic:
A Cautionary Tale for Our Times
“I fear for the future.” writes Brother Cornelius of Mainz in the year 1471. “In the market square, I saw a cooper’s apprentice reading the Psalms—not in Latin, but in German! He claims it speaks to his heart. What’s next? Women preaching? Children quoting scripture to their fathers? This reading craze will tear society apart.”
History doesn’t record Brother Cornelius’s full reaction to Gutenberg’s printing press, but I can imagine his discomfort. After all, for centuries the written word was sacred, rare, and tightly controlled—available only to clergy, scholars, and the wealthy. Then suddenly, books were everywhere – in homes, in fields, in the hands of bakers and blacksmiths. And not just any books, but the sacred Bible. Available in the vernacular! The ‘Word of God’ let loose in the streets. Chaos!
Fast forward to today and you’ll hear another chorus of handwringing, only now it’s not about books but Smartphones.
People stare at little screens instead of talking to each other. They sit in cafes scrolling, instead of chatting. Families gather at dinner tables and don’t speak to each other. We sigh and say, “What is the world coming to?” (And then we Google it.)
And I get it. I really do. I’ve been known to mutter about “Kids these days” and shake my head at the latest viral dance. But then I remember that they said the same thing about books.
Yes, books! Those paragons of culture and learning were once seen as a dangerous disruption. They isolated people. They caused them to ignore their family. They encouraged dangerous thinking. Worse still, they allowed ordinary folk to interpret things for themselves. The authorities were rightly nervous – give people books and they’ll start asking questions. And do you know what? They did.
Books empowered revolutions, not just political and religious ones, but personal ones too. They opened windows into other people’s lives. They gave voice to new ideas. They told the truth in poetry and made us laugh in fiction.
They didn’t destroy society. They changed it, and perhaps, in some ways, saved it.
Let’s not forget that Jesus himself didn’t get into trouble simply for telling parables or blessing the poor. What really stirred up opposition to Jesus was when this carpenter’s son quoted Scripture to the ‘experts.’ In the synagogue, in the Temple courts, Jesus would take ancient, sacred texts and give them fresh meaning: “You have heard it said… but I say to you…” Jesus wasn’t creating something brand new. He was quoting familiar texts but reinterpreting them, claiming new interpretations, and shining a light on what had been previously overlooked.
It is no accident that moments of confrontation often arise from the ‘wrong’ person daring to interpret the ‘right’ words. And that, more than anything, is what unsettles the gatekeepers of every age. It isn’t just about the message. It’s also about who is allowed to utter it.
My wife belongs to two or maybe three Book clubs. Who knows what those women get up to when they’re “talking about books”? I suspect it’s less about Proust and more about life. Books are a launching pad for friendship, honesty, laughter, and yes, even a bit of harmless gossip. I used to think it was all about reading but now I know that it’s about connection.
And maybe that’s the litmus test for all innovative technologies, not whether they look like what came before, but whether they help us live with depth, joy, and compassion. A Smartphone can isolate us or facilitate connection. A Bible in Latin can create confusion or inspiration. A book, a screen or a voice can all be tools for ‘living the good life.’
This brings me to mention another shift happening quietly in churches like ours. As ordained ministers become scarce, and as our small congregations can no longer afford them, even if they were available, we are returning to something very old and very new: gatherings led by lay people, by the ‘ordinary’, who are anything but that. Folks, who read the scriptures, share a reflection, pray together, and carry each other with faith.
It may feel unfamiliar. It may even feel threatening to some, but let’s remember that so did the first books. So did the first time a woman read Scripture aloud. So did the idea that someone outside the priesthood might have something worthwhile to say.
I suggest that this is a sign of the Spirit at work. A holy disruption. A gentle revolution of reading, sharing, listening. And learning again to trust one another with sharing our insights on sacred stories and how we believe they shape our lives.
The medium might change, but the need to understand, to belong, to share stories never goes out of print.
That’s the gospel, and it’s good news.
Brian Spencer, Minister, Waranga Uniting Churches.