This is my Editor’s Letter from the January/February issue of COLLIDE. A couple people have mentioned it to me so I wanted to post it in this space for anyone who missed it or would like to comment on it.
-----------------------
I once heard character defined as who you are when no one is looking. Soon after I heard this, I discussed the idea with a friend as I scanned a dark, deserted intersection for cops before rolling through a stop sign; my friend was nice enough to point out the irony. Oops.
I think one of the problems with blogs, Facebook, and Twitter is that no one is looking while we type. It’s just us when we type things we probably wouldn’t say out loud. We craft posts, status updates, and comments that drip with bile, cynicism, bitterness, hopelessness, anger, jealousy, and self-pity. We set out to attack organizations, celebrities, and peers because they need to be taken down a peg. Then, we click the “Publish” button. As I see it, there are three tragic aspects of this kind of behavior.
First, our willingness to broadcast the worst things our inner monologues can conjure. We take what ought to be an internal struggle with sinful flesh and package it for an audience of friends, strangers, and search engines. We want everyone to see, and be entertained by, our nastiness.
Second, we think it doesn’t matter. We don’t get into screaming matches in the hallways of our churches. We don’t criticize and humiliate our neighbors when we have them over for dinner. Therefore, we’re nice people, right? Because we don’t have to look our victims in the eyes, we can pretend they don’t hurt. We allow ourselves to believe that the fruit of the Spirit need not be present in our online lives—we only need to be faithful “in real life.” Never mind the real lives of others we’ve assaulted.
The third tragedy is that other Christians look on as we behave this way, and they say nothing. Whether they don’t recognize what’s going on or they don’t have the nerve to speak up, their silence (or applause), allows the cycle to continue. Though we’d never watch idly as a fellow Christ follower vandalized someone’s property, we stay mum as they vandalize the sites and esteems of others.
As you read this, some distant corner of the Internet is being firebombed by one of our brothers or sisters. I wonder if we could change that. We’d have to start with a long, hard look at the lives we lead online. We’d have to resolve to communicate Christ’s light and life everywhere we go, even the Internet. Then, we could urge our friends and neighbors to be just as resolute. The next time we witness an act of e-vandalism, we could respond by trying to make peace, bring clarity, and inspire meaningful conversation, or we could keep our flamethrowers ready. I know which direction I’m leaning toward.
