Toward a pastoral theology of social media
The Church has seen that technology is itself morally ambivalent – it has the potential to be used for good and for evil. Although sometimes slow to adopt technology for its own mission, the Church does in time find ways to use new technology to promote the gospel.
In his recent speech, Pope Benedict XVI underscores that social media are important tools for priests in preaching the Gospel, and this is certainly true. But I would argue that social media provide new opportunities for the Church to be the Church and for Christians to live out their faith. Five elements of our mission are to worship, to grow in holiness, to support each other in community, to serve others, and to witness to the Gospel.* Facebook, Twitter, YouTube, blogs and other social media can all be used to each of these ends. Perhaps more importantly, the way these media are being used in the secular world offer some ideas about how they can be used by the faithful, and the defining characteristics of their use have theological implications.
One gets the sense that the Pope may have seized on the use of social media for spreading the Gospel simply because a) these media are very popular b) you can use them to articulate the Gospel and c) given a) and b), why wouldn’t you? But if we stop and reflect on what it is that makes social media unique (and popular), we can recognize that there are theological claims beneath their use that should shape how, why, and to what degree we use them. I’ll try to articulate four elements here that are worth reflecting on as a way of starting a conversation.
1) Relational. Social media are, by definition, social. They exist as systems that connect people to each other. The content and purpose of those connections varies per platform and in most cases is highly malleable. As Christians, this should be comfortable. We believe in a Trinitarian God, that is, a God that is ultimately relational. We believe we are called to follow in that relational aspect of God by developing relationships with fellow believers. While relationships can be positive or destructive in and of themselves, pretty clearly the potential of social media to move people from a world in which leisure time is defined in terms of passive consumption of entertainment to active relationship-building is promising.
2) User-generated. Social media platforms may be seen as the great democratizers of communication. In every previous media framework, producers of content have been largely separate from consumers, based primarily by the cost or exclusiveness of the means of production and distribution. So if you want to print a newspaper, you have to have access to a big printing press and a means of distributing the papers. If you want to make a movie, you need to not only have access to all the expensive filmmaking tools but also access to the network of cinemas that might show your movie. If you want to broadcast TV or radio, you need expensive equipment and an FCC license.
But with social media, none of that is true. Millions of people watched “coverage” of the earthquake in Haiti that came not from the professional news outlets through televisions and newspapers but from cell-phone cameras to Twitter feeds and Facebook posts. And if this is true for news, it is infinitely more true for opinion and entertainment. From a theological perspective, this networked model fits the recent emphasis on the apostolate of the laity – the calling of all believers to active ministry. From an ecclesiological perspective, it’s not hard to see that this new dynamic – in which power comes through a flat, ever-changing network of connections rather than an established hierarchy – is likely to be very difficult for the Church to embrace. And the church will be right in its concern that heresy and apostasy can be spread as easily as truth through this framework, not to mention that it risks glorifying the individual even more than Western culture already does. But the possibility of truly empowering the laity to live out its communal and individual calling through these technologies should be deeply explored.
3) Ubiquitous. This is technically not the fault or credit of social media themselves, but of the fact that handheld wireless devices (iPhones and iPods, Blackberries, smart phones, etc.) can access many of these media. Many Americans are always connected to these media via handheld devices. And “always” is not an overstatement. I am not the only person I know who sends and receives messages while out walking the dog. Others go even farther. More and more, the Church may find itself in a place to preach prophetically about the need for true Sabbaths, for time disconnected to the world at large so as to better connect with God. At the same time, if we as Christians are to be always rejoicing (Phil. 4:4), and pray without ceasing (I Thess. 5:17), aren’t we compelled to use technologies that are always on and used without ceasing to find ways to rejoice and pray?
4) Culture-creating. Over the last 20 years, the diversification of viewpoints enabled by cable television and radio have allowed Americans to choose more and more to surround themselves with messages that reinforce their worldview. (The converse is also true: we can better avoid messages that challenge our worldview.) The internet, and particularly social media (especially blogs), have extended that trend further. I find this personally troubling from a political and cultural perspective, as we find it easier to demonize groups whose beliefs or characteristics we only experience through the lens of commentators already predisposed against them. But taking a step back, this seems to be an extension of #2, above, with both positive and negative theological implications.
On the one hand, this affirms some themes in both testaments, themes that talk about God’s people as co-creators and as people set apart. In the past, those who reacted to the “otherness” of the Christian calling by rejecting the worst of the world frequently retreated entirely into monastic life. Now, we can remain in many ways engaged in the world as a prophetic voice while to some extent countering the cacophonous messages of a fallen world with a constant stream of messages that praise and worship God while calling us to faithfulness and discipleship.
So what does this mean for how the Church uses social media? I can’t expect to answer that question in any sense of comprehensiveness, but here are a few things I would say might be starting points:
• Use the relational nature of social media to keep believers connected throughout the week and throughout the day. Most Christians celebrate faith only on Sundays. Those who go beyond that can engage in activities only around their work schedule and the schedule of their parish. Social media allow online faith-sharing groups, truly interactive and real-time prayer groups, an endless array of discipleship opportunities, and of course more service, witness and worship moments.
• Continue to preach the need for a true Sabbath. Turning off the Blackberry is more countercultural than many people realize, and more important.
• Understand that for the Church to embrace social media means an entirely new level of democratization of ministry. Ultimately, effective social media ministers won’t be evaluated by their certification or their ordination but by their ability to communicate within the parameters of a given platform and their willingness to share themselves with those who connect with them in authentic ways.
This is only the start of an important conversation. I hope you’ll join in.
* While these five elements are easily recognizable as the five purposes articulated by Pastor Rick Warren in The Purpose Driven Life, I have encountered the same five within Catholic education on the roles of the Church.
Saturday, February 6, 2010
Monday, September 7, 2009
Opening argument
Personally and professionally, I’ve been confronted with a situation that has caused me to resuscitate some theological struggling I last put down more than 13 years ago: what does it mean to be a person of faith and an American citizen? In my work for an issue-based advocacy organization, and in my dealings with colleagues, friends and family, I’ve been struck full in the face by this sense that segments of our society have cultivated a set of behaviors that are, in a word, idolatrous.
Here’s what I mean: I have always struggled with people who easily identify their political views with God’s will. But what I’ve seen more of lately, and what troubles me even more, are my encounters with people who appear to care more fervently about whether you believe in the political worldview they subscribe to than whether you believe in the God they subscribe to. It happens on both sides of the political aisle, and it happens with things beyond politics, and my guess is it happens to everyone at some point or another, me included. But it bugs me when I hear someone talking and think, “If this person had to choose between his or her political leaders and his or her God, God would lose every time.” Or “This person really believes that the world will be brought to ruin if his or her side loses.”
Frankly, I’d like to blame media for this. I’d like to say that eddies of political society have created multiple communication channels that attract adherents to surround themselves with messages that create this insular worldview that “we” are uniquely and profoundly right and everyone who does not fully adhere to our worldview is “other.” And I believe that there are elements of political society that are intentionally creating not only these interlocking webs of communication for that purpose but are instilling an urgency that pushes the unsuspecting into the vortex. But the truth is, we each bear responsibility to some degree for the choices we make. And the other truth is, we as a community of believers need to more openly grapple with what is and isn’t the appropriate place for our citizenship within our faith-infused lives.
So…how should we as Christians interact with our political process? Let’s start with what we have and don’t have in Scripture. Perhaps the least ambiguous statement on government in the New Testament is Romans 13:1-7, which begins “Let every person be subordinate to the higher authorities, for there is no authority except from God, and those that exist have been established by God.” If you think this was an outlying approach, consider Colossians 1:16 (“…thrones or dominions or principalities or powers….were created through him and for him.”) or John 19:11 (Jesus to Pilate: “You would have no power over me if it had not been given to you from above.”) or Titus 3:1 (“Remind them to be under the control of magistrates and authorities, to be obedient, to be open to every good enterprise.”) or Proverbs 8:15-16 (“By me kings reign, and lawmakers establish justice; By me princes govern, and nobles; all the rulers of earth.”) or Wisdom 6:3, where kings are told “authority was given you by the Lord and sovereignty by the Most High.” All of these seem to point to a very conservative view of political authority – not in the sense of the term conservative we use in political discourse but in a much simpler and more direct sense that we ought not buck the powers that be, because God put them there, whether we like them or not.
I’ll come back to that later, because there’s another point that is more specific to our culture that renders a lot of this stream of passages, if not moot, at least qualified: in a democracy, we citizens are ourselves the governing authority, kings and magistrates reference above. So in our society, if the sum of these passages is that we as citizens should do our duty as commanded by our political structure, we are being pushed not to a passive submission but to an active participation in the democratic process. For what duties does a democracy encumber upon its subjects but to participate?
Maybe that needs some further arguing. We’ll see. But let me take that point and run with it for now. If we this first round of passages orders us to be subjects of the political structure, and the political structure orders us to be active participants, then are there any limits to our activity, and to what extent do we engage our faith in that activity?
In terms of limiting our activity as citizens, maybe we should start with what Jesus did and said. Two passages come to mind: one common, one a little obscure. Matthew 22:15-22 is the common one: “render unto Caesar what is Caesar’s and to God what belongs to God.” This was a response to a pretty concrete question: was it lawful for Jews to pay taxes to Caesar? But the import is more than that. It brings the first commandment very much into play: You shall not have other gods besides me. Add to this what Jesus did in John 6:14-15. After feeding the crowds, he “knew that they were going to come and carry off to make him king.” So what did he do? “[H]e withdrew again to the mountain alone.” When political power is offered to him, Jesus turns his back and leaves it behind. The kingdoms of this world are not what He is here for.
In that refusal to seize power (something the Messiah was expected to do), Jesus shows us that this life isn’t the last or most important one. Every human institution needs to be seen in that light. Pursuing the common good through political structures can be good. Work can be good. Marriage and families can be good. But none of these things are God, and each should be evaluated primarily if not solely through the lens of whether they help or hinder us in our calling, which is to love God and love our neighbor. Whenever we care more about a human institution more than about God, we break the first commandment. When we elevate our political aims above God’s, or equate the two, we are rendering unto Caesar what is God’s. So we can argue about how best to benefit the common good. Conservatives can argue, for instance, that a State that is not strictly limited will by its nature seek to usurp God in the lives of its subjects. Liberals can argue with James 2:14-17 that if we are to live up to the commandment to love our neighbor, we ought to use every tool available to ensure that neighbor is fed, clothed and cared for. And we can advocate and organize as citizens in these efforts. But we have to remember that whether our side wins or loses an issue is less important than whether we remember that our commandment is to love God and our neighbor, and that our opponent in political struggle is fundamentally that neighbor. That is the ultimate prophetic judgment that will always serve as a caution to all who would be faithful citizens.
Here’s what I mean: I have always struggled with people who easily identify their political views with God’s will. But what I’ve seen more of lately, and what troubles me even more, are my encounters with people who appear to care more fervently about whether you believe in the political worldview they subscribe to than whether you believe in the God they subscribe to. It happens on both sides of the political aisle, and it happens with things beyond politics, and my guess is it happens to everyone at some point or another, me included. But it bugs me when I hear someone talking and think, “If this person had to choose between his or her political leaders and his or her God, God would lose every time.” Or “This person really believes that the world will be brought to ruin if his or her side loses.”
Frankly, I’d like to blame media for this. I’d like to say that eddies of political society have created multiple communication channels that attract adherents to surround themselves with messages that create this insular worldview that “we” are uniquely and profoundly right and everyone who does not fully adhere to our worldview is “other.” And I believe that there are elements of political society that are intentionally creating not only these interlocking webs of communication for that purpose but are instilling an urgency that pushes the unsuspecting into the vortex. But the truth is, we each bear responsibility to some degree for the choices we make. And the other truth is, we as a community of believers need to more openly grapple with what is and isn’t the appropriate place for our citizenship within our faith-infused lives.
So…how should we as Christians interact with our political process? Let’s start with what we have and don’t have in Scripture. Perhaps the least ambiguous statement on government in the New Testament is Romans 13:1-7, which begins “Let every person be subordinate to the higher authorities, for there is no authority except from God, and those that exist have been established by God.” If you think this was an outlying approach, consider Colossians 1:16 (“…thrones or dominions or principalities or powers….were created through him and for him.”) or John 19:11 (Jesus to Pilate: “You would have no power over me if it had not been given to you from above.”) or Titus 3:1 (“Remind them to be under the control of magistrates and authorities, to be obedient, to be open to every good enterprise.”) or Proverbs 8:15-16 (“By me kings reign, and lawmakers establish justice; By me princes govern, and nobles; all the rulers of earth.”) or Wisdom 6:3, where kings are told “authority was given you by the Lord and sovereignty by the Most High.” All of these seem to point to a very conservative view of political authority – not in the sense of the term conservative we use in political discourse but in a much simpler and more direct sense that we ought not buck the powers that be, because God put them there, whether we like them or not.
I’ll come back to that later, because there’s another point that is more specific to our culture that renders a lot of this stream of passages, if not moot, at least qualified: in a democracy, we citizens are ourselves the governing authority, kings and magistrates reference above. So in our society, if the sum of these passages is that we as citizens should do our duty as commanded by our political structure, we are being pushed not to a passive submission but to an active participation in the democratic process. For what duties does a democracy encumber upon its subjects but to participate?
Maybe that needs some further arguing. We’ll see. But let me take that point and run with it for now. If we this first round of passages orders us to be subjects of the political structure, and the political structure orders us to be active participants, then are there any limits to our activity, and to what extent do we engage our faith in that activity?
In terms of limiting our activity as citizens, maybe we should start with what Jesus did and said. Two passages come to mind: one common, one a little obscure. Matthew 22:15-22 is the common one: “render unto Caesar what is Caesar’s and to God what belongs to God.” This was a response to a pretty concrete question: was it lawful for Jews to pay taxes to Caesar? But the import is more than that. It brings the first commandment very much into play: You shall not have other gods besides me. Add to this what Jesus did in John 6:14-15. After feeding the crowds, he “knew that they were going to come and carry off to make him king.” So what did he do? “[H]e withdrew again to the mountain alone.” When political power is offered to him, Jesus turns his back and leaves it behind. The kingdoms of this world are not what He is here for.
In that refusal to seize power (something the Messiah was expected to do), Jesus shows us that this life isn’t the last or most important one. Every human institution needs to be seen in that light. Pursuing the common good through political structures can be good. Work can be good. Marriage and families can be good. But none of these things are God, and each should be evaluated primarily if not solely through the lens of whether they help or hinder us in our calling, which is to love God and love our neighbor. Whenever we care more about a human institution more than about God, we break the first commandment. When we elevate our political aims above God’s, or equate the two, we are rendering unto Caesar what is God’s. So we can argue about how best to benefit the common good. Conservatives can argue, for instance, that a State that is not strictly limited will by its nature seek to usurp God in the lives of its subjects. Liberals can argue with James 2:14-17 that if we are to live up to the commandment to love our neighbor, we ought to use every tool available to ensure that neighbor is fed, clothed and cared for. And we can advocate and organize as citizens in these efforts. But we have to remember that whether our side wins or loses an issue is less important than whether we remember that our commandment is to love God and our neighbor, and that our opponent in political struggle is fundamentally that neighbor. That is the ultimate prophetic judgment that will always serve as a caution to all who would be faithful citizens.
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