c. 2000 Religion News Service

(Tom Ehrich is a writer and computer consultant, managing large-scale database implementations. An Episcopal priest, he lives in Durham, N.C.)

BOSTON _ Gourmet coffee drinkers might view Starbucks as the “suburbs of coffee,” but I enjoy its sturdy brew. Without any hesitation, I set off from my hotel for a morning cup and scone.

And yet as I draw near, I find myself yearning for a Waffle House, a roadside icon back home in North Carolina, where the coffee might be inferior, but at least people seem glad to see each other.

Modern establishment that it is, Starbucks often reflects the “atomization” of our day _ that is, people behaving like isolated atoms: bouncing off each other, not connecting, each one focused on his or her own newspaper, bagel, personal space, destination, legal brief.

Other than customers placing orders, a Starbucks can be the quietest place _ a dozen people sipping and reading in a dozen virtual cubicles.

At a Waffle House, by contrast, waitresses joke with regulars, foursomes talk noisily, workers climb out of pickups or delivery vans and walk in together. A Waffle House can be bedlam. I wouldn’t expect to share directly in that conviviality. Strangers are strangers even in Waffle Houses. But at least I would be in a world where people relate to each other.

By relating I don’t mean “networking,” that utilitarian approach to people which sees human interactions as a business opportunity. Exchanging business cards and chatting up potential business partners is fine. That’s why we came to this technology convention. But networking isn’t relating. Healthy relationships aren’t built on a calculation of self-interest.

Atomization isn’t about loneliness or the contrast between driving alone or in a car pool. Atomization says, We don’t need other people, except to serve our self-interest. We have “contacts,” not relationships. In a computer-to-computer business environment which tech types call “low touch,” we get what we want by “browsing” and “clicking.” We avoid the inefficiency of voice and personality.

Our cell phones and Web-enabled Palms keep us wired to the battlefield of personal conquest, where the message is, The world is about me, not us. Office designers are trending away from chest-high cubicles, which allow occasional conversation, and toward one-person mini-offices with doors.

Some efficiency experts prefer “hoteling,” in which the worker is assigned whatever workspace happens to be free that day, a surefire way to keep the mind on task.

Meanwhile, back at the convention, the morning program turns out to be a motivational speaker talking about the importance of relationships. “Talk to people in elevators,” he says. Get to know your co-workers and customers. We’ve got to get outside ourselves. He gets us talking to each other about who we are. The energy level in the convention hall skyrockets.

His talk could be mistaken for typical motivational blah-blah-blah, until he tells about his wife dying from cancer and how he wakes up alone nowadays, eats alone, goes home alone, lies in bed alone.

Pay attention to relationships, he says. Go call someone you love.

Whew!

Jesus is often portrayed as commanding and demanding. People quote him _ often creatively _ as the “law” on whatever subject is in dispute.

In fact, Jesus had only one commandment: “love one another.” We know that to be true. We know in our heart of hearts that lack of love kills our souls, the presence of love makes it possible to live, and the search for love underlies much of what we do. We weren’t created to be isolated atoms, but to bond, to merge our lives, to get beyond our barriers and differences, and to create oneness.

Who among us would not rather walk down the street arm in arm with a loved one than bury the head and plow unseeing through the crowd? A cell phone ear-piece just isn’t the same as a friend’s smile.

I don’t have a recipe for achieving relationships. Talking to strangers in elevators probably won’t be enough. I know that Starbucks isn’t to blame.

But I also know that one more isolated cup of dark roast isn’t what I need this morning. I need my business associations to be more than utilitarian contacts. I need to shop in small, friendly stores, not by keying in numbers online.

I need to call my wife.

DEA END EHRICH