Congregational Leadership

The Challenges of Social Media

I’m not sure why, but I vividly remember the first time I ever heard the word “Twitter.”  At first I thought about the oddity of the word, a word that elicits all kinds of sarcastic comments, comments I was quick to offer. I was also skeptical that this “new” social media tool could ever be of any benefit.  Whatever the reason, I remember the day.

It was in October 2008 while sitting in a class entitled “Missional Ecclesiology.” On the first day of class the professor not only introduced us to Twitter, but also forced us to create an account so that we could utilize Twitter for class interactions.  He actually waited for the first ten minutes of class while we begrudgingly created our accounts and posted our first tweets.  It was obvious that we were all thinking the same thing: “This is stupid!” 

My initial reaction to Twitter wasn’t based on moral or theological reservations about social media, for by that time I had fully adopted Facebook as a way to communicate with friends and family. My main reservation was that it was far too simple, and no one would see the point.  I sure didn’t and because of that I determined Twitter to be destined for failure. Clearly, I was wrong.

Much of what is written on social media tries to answer the question, “Is social media good or bad?” Honestly, I don’t like the question. I’m not interested in being an advocate for or against social media. But as one who uses social media on a regular basis, I’m aware that there are things social media can do, and many things it can’t.  For those in ministry, social media can be a great tool, but there’s a price to be paid for expecting too much out of it. Social media poses two challenges to those trying to develop faith communities.

First of all, social media invites us into a world of over-simplicity where the impulsive takes precedence over the seasoned wisdom that only comes from a life of reflection. This is a harsh indictment, I know, but let me remind you that I love some aspects of social media. As a self-proclaimed “foodie” I utilize Yelp on a regular basis. When my wife and I make a trek to Chicago in search of that next great meal, we want to hear people’s impulsive thoughts about restaurants they have experienced. We can’t afford to try all the great eateries that Chicago offers, and Yelp provides a place to dialogue with others about what’s good and what isn’t.  However, I’ll never be convinced that Yelp even comes close to embodying what I want to communicate when speaking of “community.”  This may seem obvious, but if you spend enough time on Yelp you will find a frequent expression: “I’m so thankful for my Yelp community!” I’m skeptical of any social media’s ability to lead others into true community.

This past summer I read a book by Shane Hipps entitled, The Hidden Power of Electronic Culture.  Like many books I’ve read, it helped put into words things I had observed as a pastor but couldn’t quite articulate myself. I once heard Hipps reference a quote by Oliver Wendell Holmes, “I would not give a fig for the simplicity on this side of complexity, but I would give my life for the simplicity on the other side of complexity.”  This is great wisdom that applies to social media in general, and Twitter specifically. The example Hipps uses is that of a teenager who offers the sentiment, “God loves you, everything is going to be okay.” This is a simple truth that we all affirm.  But this simple truth carries much more weight coming from a 93-year-old woman who has lived through the depression, parenthood, and the loss of her husband. For the teenager this simple truth is offered on this side of complexity, for the 93-year-old it’s offered on the other side of complexity. “God loves you, everything is going to be okay.”

As a pastor I never thought that my people’s faith had to be complex to be meaningful.  But at the same time, I didn’t want their faith to be based on simple Christian clichés that could be recited at a moments notice without reflecting on the powerful implications of how those simple truths intersected their very complex lives. One of the deficiencies of social media to building community is that it keeps our relationships on this side of complexity. We learn to interact with each other in “status updates” or in tweets of 140 characters or less. Relationships by their nature are complex, and it’s through this complexity that mere acquaintances become the life-forming friendships that we as pastors want our people to develop.

When I share pictures of my boys with friends and family on Facebook, I see the benefits.  When I post a status update or tweet about how difficult it was to put Zachary on the bus for his first day of Kindergarten, I know that people who love me appreciate knowing what’s going on in my life and in some way feel connected to me in that moment.  But again, these moments, however helpful they are, can’t be a substitute for sitting down with those whom I claim to be in community to talk through the joys, fears, and questions I have as I navigate my way through new seasons of parenthood.  It’s not that their messages to me through social media lack meaning, but those messages can’t compete with the transmission of love that takes place in face-to-face time together.

I can remember hearing many times from people in my church that they were too busy for small group commitments or even meaningful times with those they considered friends. Yet I always wondered how much time these same people would spend on Facebook settling for a cheap imitation of what a real friendship could be. Social media hasn’t alleviated the epidemic of loneliness in our culture, and one might surmise that it’s even contributed to it. As pastors, we can affirm the benefits of Facebook and Twitter while at the same time being a prophetic voice that calls people to spend their time cultivating relationships that are meaningful.  I’m not yet convinced this can happen in a virtual environment.

A second threat comes from how social media leads us to be consumers of relationships. As a pastor I learned many things along the way but one of the greatest epiphanies I had was about the nature of community. I pastored a congregation that existed alongside another congregation that viewed things much differently than we did.  We had opportunities to move to a different facility so we would have the freedom to “do our own thing.” But there was something about this approach that never seemed right to me. Being a product of my culture, my default approach to community was to surround myself with people who dressed like me, thought like me, and agreed with everything I said or did.  Is it possible that this approach keeps my relationships on this side of complexity?  At the very least, I realized that I lacked some of the skills needed to deal with people who were different. 

I can’t say that I have since developed all the skills for dealing with people who create difficulties for me. In fact, I’ve seen how my involvement in social media sites has furthered my intolerance for people who I consider annoying. But the beautiful thing about social media is the freedom one has to pick and choose friends or those we follow.  I no longer have to interact with people who see things differently.  I can hide, block, or “unfriend” those with whom I have disagreements.

I recall a very specific time when I exercised this power and control that social media affords me.  I had just returned from a successful hunting trip, and I wanted to share (or brag) on Twitter about my accomplishment. To my dismay, someone from my church responded with, “Hunting? Where is God’s love in that?!” I took great joy in navigating to my followers list and blocking this person from ever seeing my tweets again. Given the opportunity to engage the conversation about hunting, I was sure I could predict exactly what this person would say and it would be a waste of time for both of us.  But with social media I would never have to.  With one simple click, that person was erased from my social circle!

Obviously, there is nothing “beautiful” about my approach, and my gut feeling is that I’m not the only one who has done this very thing. I became convicted that this approach to dealing with people would eventually spill into how I deal with relationships outside the realms of social media. That is, if it hadn’t already.

I suppose it’s debatable, but I don’t think I have unrealistic expectations of what a community of faith should look like.  I recognize that whenever I speak of community some will write off what I say as “pie in the sky” spirituality that is detached from reality.  But I’m actually more of a realist, and I am fully aware that there will always be people with whom my disagreements are such that a meaningful relationship with that person is nearly impossible.  However, social media has made us even less resilient in dealing with people who think differently than we do.  And as with my anti-hunting follower, I didn’t have to show any resilience at all.

Seldom am I inconvenienced by my relationships on Facebook and Twitter. Not only do I get to choose with whom I will communicate, but I also decide when, how, and in what manner I will communicate with them.  Like most other things in life, I’m encouraged to be a consumer. It’s convenient, but it comes at a high price of which we may not always be aware. I’m evermore convinced that “community” in this manner is unlikely to ever embody the Gospel that calls us to be the salt and light to our neighborhoods.

These are just two challenges pastors face in trying to cultivate meaningful community in a social media culture. Good reasoning or well-crafted arguments about the pitfalls of social media are not likely to overcome them. As Millard Fuller, founder of Habitat for Humanity, says, “It's easier to act your way into a new way of thinking than to think your way into a new way of acting.” Our communities need pastors who model an approach to relationships that pursues meaning and welcomes diversity.

Last spring the School of Theology at Olivet hosted Leonard Sweet for a conversation on holiness.  I appreciate Sweet’s insights into what he calls the “TGIF” culture (Twitter, Google, iPhone, Facebook).  But one of the most impactful things he shared was how given a choice, he would not have chosen to live in a culture that worships at the altar of all things media. My guess is that neither would many of us. He confessed his infatuation with Victorian culture and how he wished he could have lived in the nineteenth century. But, as Sweet stated, this is irrelevant.  We don’t get to choose our culture. I will continue using social media because it’s the way the world communicates and, to be honest, I like it.  However, I want to maintain a prophetic distance from it so that I can always be evaluating the way it shapes me. There are some things social media can’t do, and it’s those very things that I need to pursue and model in my relationships, for my own health, as well as the health of those I lead.