2015 AD

Why were early French Christians promised a sea of wine?

Christian priests had a tough job finding converts in the Roman empire during those first centuries after Christ died. Followers were not just persecuted, but killed. Would you go to church knowing that you might be punished or slayed for doing so?

So how to entice people to join the Christian flock and then keep the surviving faithful on board?  


Around 200 AD, Saint Irenaeus, bishop of what is now Lyon, France, developed a great marketing package. He offered incredible rewards in the afterlife—perfect just in case the convert was killed for his beliefs.

Early Christian marketing genius St Irenaeus, Bishop of Lugdunum in Gaul (now known as Lyons, France).

Irenaeus's afterlife reward package included the usual: lots of grain, delicacies galore, no work and "highly fertile" women. (No mention of the rewards for women.) 

For wine lovers, the best part of Saint Irenaeus's afterlife package included huge quantities of wine. (Vineyards were already well developed in France by this time.)

Here's his vino pitch: "vines shall grow, each having ten thousand branches, and in each branch ten thousand twigs, and in each true twig ten thousand shoots, and in each one of the shoots ten thousand clusters, and on every one of the cluster ten thousand grapes, and every grape when pressed will give five and twenty metretes of wine." 

I'm not sure how much 25 meters of wine is, but it sounds like a sea of Bordeaux red.
 
In the end, I couldn't find any records showing how well Irenaeus's marketing plan worked. 

Sunrise in Oregon vineyard.

The final question is: Would 75 feet of wine in your afterlife be enough to entice you to become a Christian?

 

What can American social media users learn from the AK47-toting Mursi tribe?

The news of the Virginia gunman who shot a TV crew during a live broadcast shocked and saddened me. And worst of all, the cold-blooded killer filmed himself. He wanted, and got, social media attention. 




While listening to the grisly details, I kept wondering if there was a way to use social media to do the exact opposite of what the Virginia murderer did?  Instead of deranged selfish purposes, I wondered how I could use social media in beneficial ways?

That night, a teaser idea came while editing photographs from my two weeks with the remote Mursi tribe in southern Ethiopia. (The Mursi women are known for their huge clay lip plates.) I stayed at one village the entire time to get to know the people.

Sun rays break through clouds over Mago Mountain (some call it Makki Mountain) and Belle Village, Mursi Tribe, Mago National Park, Ethiopia, Africa.

On this trip I brought point-and-shoot cameras so the Mursi could photograph tourists taking snaps of lip-plated women. 

A Mursi woman with a lip plate in the Omo region of Ethiopia, Africa.

Looking at the photographs just after the Virginia shooting, it struck me how in one aspect the Mursi and American cultures are similar. Guns are easily available in both social groups. The Virginia killer apparently could easily get a gun. And most Mursi men carry AK47s (aka Kalashnikovs) and are not hesitant to use them.

Belle Village, Mursi Tribe, Mago National Park, Ethiopia, Africa.

Well, no tourists showed up in my Mursi village during my entire stay; so I handed out the cameras anyway. After teaching my guide, Andu, how to use the cameras, he in turn taught several Mursi men, who in turn taught others.

My guide Andu teaching warriors how to use a point and shoot camera. Belle Village, Mursi Tribe, Mago National Park, Ethiopia, Africa.

While I've blogged about the Mursi camera adventure before, the social-media-induced killing made me look at these photographs differently.

Belle Village, Mursi Tribe, Mago National Park, Ethiopia, Africa.

The Muris are used to being photographed by tourists for money—10 birr per shutter click, thank you. Never had they taken photographs of themselves or of anyone. I mean never held a camera. This was the first time they were behind the camera instead of in front. 

Then, I don't know if what happened was because they had a new toy, or they saw a fresh perspective, or the stars were properly aligned. But a transformation happened.

Instead of waiting around of tourists and getting drunk, they were like busy bees taking photographs.

Belle Village, Mursi Tribe, Mago National Park, Ethiopia, Africa.

Belle Village, Mursi Tribe, Mago National Park, Ethiopia, Africa.

After taking some images, they would run to the battery powered printer set up at my camp. I had solar chargers to keep the electricity flowing.


Andu, my guide, edited and printed the digital files. Since I didn't have enough paper to print everything, Andu selected what he thought were the best photographs.

Belle Village, Mursi Tribe, Mago National Park, Ethiopia, Africa.

Belle Village, Mursi Tribe, Mago National Park, Ethiopia, Africa.

After people snapped groups, couples and individuals, they started photographing their possessions—including guns and knives—and themselves doing everyday things. 

You could feel the excitement in the air. 

Kids and an elder using one of my Nikon cameras to take photographs of everyday life in Belle Village, Mursi Tribe, Mago National Park, Ethiopia, Africa.

Belle Village, Mursi Tribe, Mago National Park, Ethiopia, Africa.

Watching them was like looking over the shoulder of an American teenage Facebook user. Except this was a printed version of Facebook—a Mursi Facebook. 

Andu, my guide, kept telling me that in his 12 years with the Mursi, he had never seen them so "relaxed." It seems they had momentarily peeked out of their everyday paradigm of tourists and handouts. 

Belle Village, Mursi Tribe, Mago National Park, Ethiopia, Africa.

While I don't know how to translate this Mursi photo experience to using social media positively in a gun-happy America, I do think here among the AK47-toting Mursi, just might be an idea seed for how to use social media beneficially.