Walking out of a chapel sermon on Ephesians 4 in my first year of ministry training, I felt stung. ‘Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ God forgave you,’ Paul wrote; picking up from these words, the principal challenged us :
Why [is] compassion and empathy with another’s suffering … too often seen as the work of social workers and not Christian leaders? As almost a little bit wet, lacking in strength, and no gospel focus? Why do we talk much about God’s forgiveness but much, much less about our need to forgive others? Why many people no longer belong to churches because when their world crashed around them, in their churches, they did not find kindness, they did not find compassion; they did not find forgiveness. [1]
I walked to morning tea wondering, am I a kind person? Am I compassionate? Am I forgiving?
Kindness in Social Media Discourse?
Fast forward eight years, and I found myself wandering down the rabbit hole of social media comments following on a particularly controversial post on Christians and the wider culture. With each comment I read, I noticed an increasing emotional response rising within me.
It wasn’t just the content of the comments but the way the comments were phrased. Naturally, tone is easier to pick up in vocal communication than in typed words; but the discussion about the topic, the way that the third party of the topic was being talked ‘about,’ and the interactions between commentators were uncharitable in the most generous reading.
My blood boiled. I typed a reply, my finger poised, ready to comment.
Fortunately, my ministry supervisor was next to me and said, ‘Sam, there are many opinions on social media. There are going to be views that you disagree with, comments that will make you angry. But you don’t have to comment on everything. You don’t need to take on the role of a gatekeeper.’
I looked down at my comment. It was sharp and witty; it also had knives—claws bared—ready to fight. What good did it add to the conversation? I deleted the comment, put my phone down and went back to work.
An hour later, as my mind wandered back to the post and my comment, I paused to reflect on the moment. Why was I feeling affected by the discussion? What were the emotions that were surfacing and where did they come from? Why did I feel the need to comment? And why did I write down a witty, knives-out comment?
Processing the Rage
With Ephesian 4 in one ear, and my counsellor in the other, I processed the moment:
Why was I feeling affected by the discussion?
Though there weren’t necessarily ‘falsehoods’ claimed in the discussion, there were enough ‘thin views’, and ‘strawmen’ portrayed that siblings in Christ and unbelieving neighbours were not ‘spoken truthfully to.’ (Eph 4:25) Enough thin views and strawmen do eventually lead readers to create false representations, and false representations lead to erroneous interactions.
What were the emotions that were surfacing?
I felt angry that a group of people had their created dignity and real experiences stolen (Eph 4:28) by of thin cultural exegesis and caricatures.
If I believe in a God who gives me personal worth and dignity because he has ‘fearfully and wonderfully made’ me, then people I talk about also have worth and dignity because they are equally ‘fearfully and wonderfully made.’ (Ps 139:14)
The people I talk about have worth and dignity because they are equally ‘fearfully and wonderfully made.’
If I believe that Jesus, in his fairness and justice, does not misconstrue my actions and my intentions, then in walking in his footsteps, I should do my best to construe another’s actions and intentions in a way that is true and honourable.
My anger came from a deep inner sense of justice and fairness, to ‘do onto others what you have them to do you.’ (Matt 7:12)
Why did I feel the need to comment?
In the heated discussion of adjectives bandied and missiles fired, I wanted to speak into the discussion, to show another perspective, to add an alternate voice. In the back of my mind, I had Bonhoeffer’s favourite proverb brewing:
Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves. (Prov 31:8)
Then why did I write down a witty, knives-out comment?
Though I wanted to speak up against injustice, my comment was, in reality, ‘unwholesome talk.’ (Eph4:29) It was an accusatory, berating comment thinly veiled as an exhortation. I had a desire to build up, and I also had a desire to ‘name and shame”.
In my anger, I did sin. (Eph 4:26)
My heart directed the just anger and diverted it down the path of the fool.
My heart directed the just anger and diverted it down the path of the fool rather than the path of the wise. The event triggered memories of past events and came forth in bitterness, rage, brawling/slandering words filled with malice. (Eph 4:31)
Yes, I did want to actively ‘put off falsehood and speak truthfully to [my online] neighbour[s]’ (Eph 4:25) but the words used were not “good for building up as fits the occasion,” ’ and definitely not intended to ‘give grace to those who hear.’ (Eph 4:29) I wanted to bulldoze them; to shame them.
In the very act of seeing hypocrisy, I had become the hypocrite—sweeping up the sawdust in other eyes while ignoring the planks stacked up in my own. And though I deleted the comment, God, who sees all, had seen and considered the intentions of my heart.
Kindness in a Virtual Realm?
When commenting is turned off for a social media thread, we know there’s some heated discussion happening. When commenting is turned off for a post where the majority of contribution comes from Christians …
Perhaps the removed and ‘virtual’ nature of online discussion makes us bolder with our words because we have little real relationship at stake.
But bearing the fruit of the Spirit—love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control (Gal 5:22-23)—does not end as we enter virtual space. In fact, our exercising of the freedom of speech in online forums ought not to be exercised “to indulge the flesh; rather, [to] serve one another humbly in love. For the entire law is fulfilled in keeping this one command: “Love your neighbour as yourself.” If [we] bite and devour each other, watch out or [we] will be destroyed by each other.” (Gal 5:13:15)
Perhaps because words are typed and sent rather than spoken and delivered, it atrophies our muscles of love because they are only ‘mere words,’ and ‘words shall never hurt us.’
But regardless of their virtual or embodied setting, words can hurt; can come from a hurtful intent—especially (as I have found) from our own pain. (James 3:6, 4:1-3). In my own anger, hurt, and pain, the easier choice is slander, not kindness, compassion, and forgiveness. And social media makes that choice even easier.
Perhaps with word limits and ‘tl:dr’s, it is tempting to use caricature and catchy delivery to get more likes and build a bigger platform for our ‘ministry platform.
But are those platforms built on a foundation of sand or rock? Are we wise or fools?
Being examples of Christian virtue in Social Media.
At the start of the year, I had lunch in the dining hall at a Bible college with some theological students, and the conversation moved to a controversial topic that was then being discussed in a Christian ministers’ social media group. Some had seen the discussion, others hadn’t, but all the students were not surprised by some of the comments because of the online reputations that some commentators had. ‘I wouldn’t be a student minister at that church,’ one of them commented.
Older Christians, younger Christians are watching your social media interactions. Younger Christians, older Christians are watching your social media interactions. And the wider culture is watching all of us. All our passing comments are, to paraphrase C.S. Lewis, helping one another towards eternal glory or eternal condemnation .’ Perhaps it is with that ‘weight of glory,’ that we are to begin to contemplate the choice of our words.[2]
We are examples of Christ in every sphere of our lives, including our social media interactions.
To my fellow pastors, ministry workers and Christian leaders: we are examples of Christ in every sphere of our lives, including our social media interactions. We are ‘judged more strictly’ for our words (Jas 3:6)—in the substance of our speech and the posture of our speech; speech to others and of others.
Does the same tongue we use to ‘praise our Lord and Father’ from the pulpit curse human beings, who have been made in God’s likeness, with the pen (or keyboard)? (Jas 3:9)
And, as someone in pastoral ministry, I need to remind myself to do that which God has called me—the work of embodied ministry. I find that if I have the time to spare in gatekeeping another’s 256-character online opinion, then I have the same amount of time to pray; to be in God’s word and to embody grace in the lives of those whom I serve.
Be kind and compassionate to one another, forgiving each other, just as in Christ, God forgave you.
[1] Coulton, ‘Ephesians 4:17-32’
[2] CS Lewis, The weight of Glory, HarperOne, 2001. 46.
