Navigating the Treacherous Waters of Social Media
Just to be sure that I’m not misunderstood, let me say this at the outset:
Those are my true feelings about the racial tension that has engulfed our nation. I am deeply grieved and outraged.
But have I said enough? That depends on whom you ask.
If you don’t use social media (Facebook, Twitter, etc.), you might be blissfully unaware of the shame-fest that is going on there. But this is nothing new. The language of activists has always been incendiary and guilt-inducing.
Decades ago I participated in a pro-life protest outside an abortion clinic. Before we began, the leader spoke to us all and berated the “weak” pro-lifers who didn’t show up for protests of that sort, the ones who said they were pro-life but didn’t come out to march. Since that was the first (and only) time I ever participated in that sort of protest, I knew she was talking about me.
That’s the sort of either-or thinking that has come to dominate social media, and there’s no way to avoid the shame.
I saw this on the internet recently, and it is true:
If you speak up, you will be applauded by those who agree with you. But you will be attacked by those who disagree. And you might even be attacked by those who agree with you but feel you didn’t say enough. So you are shamed.
If you try to be positive and point to the inspirational stories emerging from the chaos, you are naïve. And you might get a lecture on “toxic positivity” (yes, there is such a thing). So you are shamed.
If you try to be realistic, you’re negative. So you are shamed.
If you support protests against police brutality, you’re condemning all police officers and you are supporting violence. So you are shamed.
If you speak against the rioting and looting, you care more about property than you do about lives. So you are shamed.
If you reiterate the obvious fact that black lives do, in fact, matter, you are supporting a violent agenda against the police. So you are shamed.
If you voice your concern for the safety of first responders in general and police in particular, you’re supporting corrupt cops. So you are shamed.
If you wonder if we’re still supposed to be worried about the pandemic, you’re told that bigger problems have eclipsed those concerns. So you are shamed.
And if you decide that the sloganeering of social media is not a good place for this kind of discussion, your silence makes you part of the problem. So you are shamed.
Social media has become a hall of mirrors: our self-image is constantly distorted no matter which way we look, and we can’t find our way out.
How can a Christ-follower find his way in all this? What is the Christ-like response?
A couple of cardinal principles seem to apply:
1. There is no biblical warrant for Christians to participate in protest. Christ and the apostles didn’t call for rallies against unjust Roman rule. They operated within a social context far more brutal and oppressive than our own, yet they refrained from fomenting revolution against those unjust authorities.
In fact, the general principle in the church was that believers should submit to civil authority (Romans 13:1-7; 1 Peter 2:13-17). The exception, of course, is when that civil authority orders you to disobey God (Acts 4:19-20; 5:29). But even when they disobeyed civil authority and were persecuted for it, the church didn’t stage protests.
But this does not mean that Christ-followers must not participate in protest (online or in the streets). The New Testament was written in different social context, where ordinary people had no say in the way government conducted its business. So it is silent on questions about how citizens should use their influence. (There is nothing in the New Testament about voting, either; but that doesn’t mean we must not vote.)
Without a biblical mandate, the question of how we participate in this process is a matter for each of us to decide in our own conscience.
2. There is compelling and unavoidable biblical warrant for defending the powerless. Scripture is full of exhortations to defend the widow and the falsely accused and the foreigner and the poor. This is a biblical mandate; this is for everyone who follows Jesus.
But here is where it gets interesting, because when we follow the biblical pattern, we find ourselves uncomfortable in both liberal and conservative circles.
Why, you ask? Because both the Left and the Right have their blind spots.
I have come to realize that I have a great blind spot about racism. The reason racism isn’t on my radar is because of the circles I travel in. I don’t have any overtly racist friends, nor do I have many African American friends.
If I spent time with overtly racist people, I would hear the racial epithets, I would be aware of their toxic attitudes toward minorities. If I spent time with African Americans, I would be far more aware of how dangerous it is to _____ while black (jog, shop, drive, etc.) As things stand with me, though, I don’t think about racism much because I don’t encounter it much.
But powerlessness is not just about skin color. It’s also about the lack of economic options (poverty) and legal status (immigration) and stage of development (abortion) and gender (sexual abuse and harassment). So both the Left and the Right have blind spots about protecting the powerless in all their forms.
You get the picture: if a Christ-follower makes it his aim to defend the powerless in every instance, he will take heat from both sides.
Since we live in a participatory democracy, change comes about not by edict (as in the first century Roman world) but by building consensus. Consensus-building happens formally in the legislative process, and we vote to participate in that process by helping decide who designs and who enforces our laws.
But consensus-building also happens informally in the way we interact with one another, and both social media and protest in the streets are places where we can let our voices be heard in the public sphere.
But public protest is not the only place where we can let our voices be heard. We can have face-to-face conversations with people. We can listen to the stories of our African American friends. And we can talk to the people in our own sphere of influence to help them see the sufferings and struggles of the powerless.
So the bottom line is that God’s Word doesn’t mandate that we participate in protest (either online or in the streets), nor does it forbid us to do so. This is a matter for each one of us to decide. Each believer must follow his or her conscience, and no one should be bullied or shamed into joining a public cause. The way I participate in public debates is a matter of my individual conscience, and I will answer to God – not my social media critics – for how I choose to participate.
As Paul said about the contentious issues dividing the church in his day, “Why do you pass judgment on your brother? Or you, why do you despise your brother? For we will all stand before the judgment seat of God; for it is written, ‘As I live, says the Lord, every knee shall bow to me, and every tongue shall confess to God.’ So then each of us will give an account of himself to God” (Romans 14:10-12).
There’s plenty of injustice to fuel the outrage, especially when those in power abuse and oppress the powerless. And we must not hesitate to speak up, to add our voices to the chorus calling for change.
But let’s give one another grace and room about how and when and how much we need to say publicly about it all.
Persevere,
Paul Pyle
Discipleship Weekly