The Greek word for "happy" consists of two words which mean "well" and "god".
In a world of self-broadcasting, self-publishing, and self-marketing made easy, it is eerily amazing to observe how one finds less and less of humanity and more and more of machinery.
Therefore, inordinate consumption of technology and constant connection to cyberspace do not necessarily result in one's "well-being."
The engine that runs beneath every human being is the pursuit to become like God just as the ancient Greeks have defined.
What is now the obsolete meaning of "engineer" is a crafty schemer or a plotter.
Another word for skill or craft is "art." Interestingly, people who lived during the time Beowulf was written, used the word "eart" which later became "art" as archaic present 2nd singular of the verb "to be".
In Latin, the word "art" has the connection with the arm. Of course, our English usage of the word art has a direct connection with the Latin meaning since people use hands to make things just like the Latin word "hand" in "manufacture".
Why this etymological digression?
Because the light bearer (Lucifer) of this technological world tempts those who are in search of beauty, intimacy, and authority in a digital paradise or in a demonic alternative that reinvents the perennial wheel of fortune in an attempt to be like God.
Be aware of deus ex machina in this technological and digital world and remember not to trade your soul like Faust whose hubris eventually led to the eternal nightmare that is not a dream.
Redemption of cyberspace will surely come when people are reoriented, restored, and redefined by the beauty, the intimacy, and the authority found in the triune relationship of the Father, the Son and the Spirit.
"Be exalted, O God, above the heavens, and let your glory be over all the earth. Save us and help us with your right hand, that those you love may be delivered."
Psalm 108:5-6
How Great Thou Art
O Lord my God, When I in awesome wonder,
Consider all the worlds Thy Hands have made;
I see the stars, I hear the rolling thunder,
Thy power throughout the universe displayed.
Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, How great Thou art.
Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, How great Thou art!
When through the woods, and forest glades I wander,
And hear the birds sing sweetly in the trees.
When I look down, from lofty mountain grandeur
And see the brook, and feel the gentle breeze.
Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, How great Thou art.
Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, How great Thou art!
And when I think, that God, His Son not sparing;
Sent Him to die, I scarce can take it in;
That on the Cross, my burden gladly bearing,
He bled and died to take away my sin.
Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, How great Thou art.
Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, How great Thou art!
When Christ shall come, with shout of acclamation,
And take me home, what joy shall fill my heart.
Then I shall bow, in humble adoration,
And then proclaim: "My God, how great Thou art!"
Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, How great Thou art.
Then sings my soul, My Saviour God, to Thee,
How great Thou art, How great Thou art!
"How great Thou art"
