“The only difference between a rut and a grave is its depth.”
Questing, searching restless fingers,
Wander now across the band,
Seeking stimulation, meaning,
Find a place to rest, to stand.
But instead of slowly stilling,
Of a measured oscillation,
Instead my fingers find a speeding,
Growing, creeping agitation.
From each station hurling, flinging
Screaming, dancing melody,
Grabbing, grasping, clutching, driving,
Unrelenting harmony.
Can I slow my questing fingers,
As they race across the dial,
Each small moment coalescing,
Resting silent for a while?
Turn the volume to a whisper
Finding moments to remember
Hear the quiet silence singing
To the stillness I surrender
If you have been on social media over the last week or so, you’ve no doubt heard about the Starbucks Red Cup Controversy.[1] In a brilliant piece of faux-outrage social marketing, a would-be Christian Internet Personality put together a video complaining that Starbucks had removed Christmas from their cups and asked people, when ordering their lattes, to say that their name was “Merry Christmas”, so that baristas would be forced to write it on them. This video describing the latest Secular Depravity Ruining Our Country, which conveniently has absolutely no basis in reality, got over half a million likes, the endorsement of a particularly famous toupeed troll-like creature, and was breathlessly picked up as a national “news story” by a lot of journalistic organizations that apparently have nothing better to do with their time.
The Christian internet responded by furiously disowning the controversy, with posts like this or this or this. However, in this rush, there is one question that I have not heard any Christians asking of themselves.
What does it mean that most people think it’s entirely plausible that Christians would be outraged by this?
To be more blunt, isn’t this sort of huffy freak-out perfectly consonant with our pattern of behavior as a people?
Here’s what I mean:
Every year, a large, visible group of Christians violently frets about the “War on Christmas[2]”, which somehow, is not about people going hungry or rampant consumerism, but about whether or not people will say “Merry Christmas” to you.
Anytime a controversy erupts on the internet, Christians are often first in line to virulently attack each other’s personal and spiritual integrity. (Don’t believe me? Talk to any author or speaker who steps outside the theological or political orthodoxy of their particular Christian tribe.)
Anytime someone tells a joke about Christians on Facebook, there are at least three aggrieved comments from people that prove that utterly lack a sense of humor about themselves.
If they visit many of our churches (yes mainliners, I’m looking at you), they will inevitably encounter several people who are determinedly angry at families for doing soccer on Sunday, at projectors over hymnbooks, at pastors who wear jeans, or people in general for not being as good as they are.
If they regularly visit other churches, they may regularly encounter Christians who are so methodically mechanistic in their relationships that you really believe that they’d do or say anything to get you in the doors of a church, even if that means lie, cheat, or demean others.[3]
All our “That’s Not Us!” defenses don’t account for much when for many people, the entire witness of the rest of their lives suggests that Christians are, in fact, people who will get quite angry over something as stupidly trivial as the logo on a Starbucks cup.
What if rather than arguing with other Christians about this controversy, or yelling, “That’s not us! That’s not us!” we were to say something like this:
“To all the people out there who believe that Christians get outraged over things like coffee cups: We are sorry. We are sorry that we’ve acted in ways that make you think this type of behavior is something we regularly engage in. We will try to do better, so that when the next faux-religious controversy comes around, you’ll be able to honestly say, “that doesn’t sound like any Christians I know.”
[1] What, you haven’t heard of it? Good for you. However, if you’re feeling a little masochistic, you can find out more about it from the Atlantic, from Eater.com, or Christianity Today.
[2] While quite visibly not freaking about issues like hunger, poverty, or violence, which it seems quite likely Jesus cared a lot more about.
[3] Or give away guns. Seriously, multiple churches have done this.
“I am not afraid that the people called Methodists should ever cease to exist either in Europe or America. But I am afraid, lest they should only exist as a dead sect, having the form of religion without the power.”
– John Wesley
[Sorry John.]
“Jesus has been so zealously worshiped, his deity so vehemently affirmed, his halo so brightly illumined, and his cross so beautifully polished that in the minds of many he no longer exists as a man. By thus glorifying him we more effectively rid ourselves of him that did those who tried to do so by crudely crucifying him.”
– Clarence Jordan
“One purchases immortality through generosity; and, by giving the perishing things of the world, receives in exchange for these an eternal mansion in the heavens! Rush to this market, if you are wise, O rich person! If need be, sail around the whole world.”
– Clement of Alexandria
For any of you who might have been living in a cave for the past ten years or so, Facebook is a an amazing website with about a billion users, where you can find long-lost friends, stay uncomfortably connected with the day to day minutiae of their lives, and like their cute pet pictures
In many ways, Facebook has been a genuine gift to humanity. For me, and probably for many of you, I’m able to keep relationships going that otherwise would have been consigned to the dusty high school yearbooks of history, and sometimes renew friendships in a way that would never have been possible before.
There is, of course,a rather shadowy underside to the Facebook Experience, which is that it brings a whole new level of anxiety producing social calculus to every acquaintance you meet in real life.
Here’s what I mean:
You meet someone at a social gathering,you talk for a few minutes, and you think, “Hey, I think I’d like to get to know this person, but I’m not sure how much they want to get to know me!” and so now, rather than waiting queasily for the next in-person social interaction, you immediately segue into what some call “Facebook stalking”, but I prefer to call social media investigation.
You find out if they’re online , you see how many mutual friends the two of you have, you check their about page, do you both post sunset pictures, do your politics agree, do you both love Battlestar Galactica? Maybe you gain a little courage, you hit like on one of their public pictures, you make a comment on a mutual friend’s status that you think they’ll like. (This is all done surreptitiously as possible, because, while you want to know them, , you don’t want them to know that you want to know them.) The goal is the day, when, after being impressed by your strategic succession of likes, public status updates, and smart comments, they decide to send you a “friend request” and your social problem is solved.
Some of you skip right through all this, and friend people with the wild, kamikaze abandon of a starving college student at free pizza night, but for others of us, stalking people, hoping to become their friends, is just the latest way that technology has given us to express our social anxiety.
All this Facebook-inspired social calculus points us to a spiritual reality as well:
Sometimes, we treat God in the exact same way
Imagine if God were on Facebook:
We meet God somewhere, maybe in worship, but quite possibly out in nature, or in conversation with friends, and we think “Hey, God seems kind of cool, I think I might like to get to know God!”
We sing a few songs in worship and hope that God hears and likes them
We read a couple books and hope that as we change our likes and preference, God might pay attention and start to like us
We try to hang out with other people who God also seems to like, in hopes that God will notice all the mutual friends we just seem to have
We do the equivalent, basically of liking one of God sunset pictures, maybe even write a comment, “So inspirational, you might even say…divine ;)”
And hoping that the end result of often years meticulously calculated spiritual anxiety is that God likes us in return.
We know that God is not at all picky, God shows a promiscuously puzzling ability to not just like, but love everyone who God comes in contact with, no matter how many obnoxious cat videos they post.
We know that God wants to get to know us, perhaps even a lot more than we want to get to know God, and that all it takes is a willingness to sit down, and start having a conversation.
We don’t even have to have a good opening line.
If you sometimes have a hard time just saying “hello” to God, consider this your invitation to start. Pray the Lord’s prayer in your own words. Say “thanks” next time you see a beautiful sunset or an act of kindness. When you meet someone in need, ask God to give them a little help.
Just say something. You may find out how eager God is to say something in return.
“Years ago, someone told me that humility is central to the spiritual life. That made sense to me: I was proud to think of myself as humble! But this person did not tell me that the path to humility, for some of us at least, goes through humiliation, where we are brought low, rendered powerless, stripped of pretenses and defenses, and left feeling fraudulent, empty, and useless- a humiliation that allows us to regrow our loves from the ground up, from the humus of common ground.” – Parker Palmer, Let Your Life Speak
The Internet can make jerks of us all at times, but there is perhaps no place where that’s more true than on Facebook, where our postings, (especially our political ones) are filled with unthinking vitriol that we would never share with others in person. More than that, the way we do politics on facebook is often spiritually poisonous, making us worse people in the process. Here are a few ways to make sure that you’re doing politics and Facebook in a way that’s good for you and for the people around you.
1. Read smart people who you are likely to disagree with.
The epistemic bubble is real[1]. You do neither your spirit nor your intellect any favors if you only read people you that you agree with. This is especially true if you’re highly engaged and passionate about the issues of the day. The more engaged you are, the more you need to read people who you are likely to disagree with.[2]
2. Never post anything to Facebook that you wouldn’t say to someone in person.
If you post something from a website entitled, “Conservatives Are Ruining Our Country”, consider this: Would you say, “Conservatives our ruining our ruining our country” to your Republican friend around the dinner table? If you post an article that states that all people on Obamacare are lazy takers, would you call your friends who are on Obamacare lazy takers if you took them out to coffee?
If you would, I both admire your guts and think that you need therapy. But, if like me, you know you wouldn’t, then don’t use the internet as an excuse to let your inner troll out. People get hurt that way.
3) If it doesn’t make you a more loving person, then it actively harms you.
If reading your favorite partisan pundit makes you fear or hate other people more than you would otherwise (conservatives, liberals, southerners, gays, immigrants, people on welfare, etc.) then don’t read them and don’t share their posts, even if you agree with them. Love is the ultimate Truth. Anything that leads you away from that is a lie, even if it seems factually accurate.
4) The fact you’re right doesn’t mean that you can be a jerk to those who are wrong.
Just because you know you’re right doesn’t give you a right to be a jerk to everyone else. Treat people with the same respect that you would want to be treated with if you were (and I’m sure you’re not, but just pretend with for a moment) incredibly wrong something as well.
Pretty simple right? Listen to people you disagree with. Treat others like you want to be treated. Run from hateful people like the plague. And for heaven’s sake, don’t be a jerk.
Thoughts? Questions? Pushback?
[1] Epistemic Bubble: Reading only people and information sources you agree with, the end result being that new information and differing opinions become more and more difficult to be integrated into your worldview.
[2] There is an important corollary to this as well. Before you post or comment on an article, read it first.
“Do not hurry as you walk with grief; it does not help the journey. Walk slowly, pausing often: do not hurry as you walk with grief. Be not disturbed by memories that come unbidden. Swiftly forgive; and let Christ speak for you unspoken words. Unfinished conversation will be resolved in him. Be not disturbed. Be gentle with the one who walks with grief. If it is you, be gentle with yourself. Swiftly forgive; walk slowly, pausing often. Take time, be gentle as you walk with grief.” – Andy Raine