RANT: Christian Practices and Facebook
If you read my sermon from this past Sunday, then you are aware of this article from The Atlantic.
Among the various concepts brought up related to loneliness and social-networking, was this observation:
“ [T]he effect of Facebook depends on what you bring to it. Just as your mother said: you get out only what you put in. If you use Facebook to communicate directly with other individuals—by using the “like” button, commenting on friends’ posts, and so on—it can increase your social capital. Personalized messages, or what [Moira] Burke calls “composed communication,” are more satisfying than “one-click communication”—the lazy click of a like. “People who received composed communication became less lonely, while people who received one-click communication experienced no change in loneliness,” Burke tells me. So, you should inform your friend in writing how charming her son looks with Harry Potter cake smeared all over his face, and how interesting her sepia-toned photograph of that tree-framed bit of skyline is, and how cool it is that she’s at whatever concert she happens to be at. That’s what we all want to hear. Even better than sending a private Facebook message is the semi-public conversation, the kind of back-and-forth in which you half ignore the other people who may be listening in. “People whose friends write to them semi-publicly on Facebook experience decreases in loneliness,” Burke says.”
As a Christian, I read this and I ponder about what this means for being a Christian on the internet.
How do our interactions with other people, particularly on Facebook, proclaim the gospel message that Jesus loves us, including those who are marginalized and lonely? Is there a particularly “Christian” way of being on Facebook?
In the Litany of Healing, frequently used in the Episcopal Church is this petition: “Grant to all who seek your guidance, and to all who are lonely, anxious, or despondent, a knowledge of your will and an awareness of your presence.” (from Enriching Our Worship 2)
As sacramentally-shaped Christians, we believe that one of the means for people to be aware of Jesus’ presence and the revelation of His will is other Christians. The oft-said maxim “be the hands and feet of Jesus” comes to mind. So, in effect (and at the risk of sounding super corny), how can we be Jesus’ Facebook profile for a lonely world?
Looking at the above data, perhaps it should be of no surprise that our interactions with folks on Facebook be more intentional. Perhaps we should be more willing to comment on a photo that strikes us rather than simply clicking the “like” button. Maybe we actually write a heart-felt post on someone’s status update instead of the awful drivel like “I’ll be praying for you,” or (worse) “prayers ascending.”
It only makes sense to me that if we treated someone’s Facebook profile as if it were the person themselves, then there’d be at least some amount of intentional, “real” interaction.
Of course, a key problem with Facebook is that you only interact with your “friends.” Therefore, one is able to pick only those folks with whom they agree to be part of their interactions online. Which can over-emphasize the clique concept that itself also leads to loneliness among young people.
Obviously, Facebook is no substitute for real, face-to-face relationships. LED and binary representations of a person can never replace flesh and blood.
But our callings as Christians is, partly, about ending loneliness in the world—to tell every person that they are wanted and longed for. And not only to tell folks that, but to actually live that notion out.
It may not be flesh and blood, but it’s at least a start.
