The Freedom of Missing Out
This morning, I shared a little about my own discernment as I try to wrestle some big thoughts about social media following the frustration (among other things) of the last week, in particular. And then, in a twist of irony, Instagram crashed as I went to save it. Poof! Gone.
My own thoughts in the moment are unimportant, really, in light of the greater conversation. Here, we can reconstruct what was the heart. First, there is the scripture for this week. Then, there is the essay. Ordinarily, we don’t publish the essays or read them aloud. But this week, with the video gone, seems a good time to publish the essay. Please bear in mind that this was written in September of 2019. It was planned for publication in April, then delayed until August, and then, by some strange coincidence, appeared today, as our subject of study.
PLEASE! Let’s talk about this. Let’s go old school and have a blog conversation.
“We need to find God and God cannot be found in noise and restlessness. God is the friend of silence. See how nature—trees and flowers and grass—grow in silence. See the stars, the moon and the sun, how they move in silence. The more we receive in silent prayer, the more we can give in our active life.”
Saint Teresa of Calcutta
Matthew 25:14-30
See also: 1 Thessalonians 4:9-11
Recently, at the dinner table, my husband and son were discussing a current news story. I listened, puzzled, and wondered why I had no idea such things were happening. When I mentioned to them that this was the first I’d heard of it, they were astonished. How could I not know? I had spent the prior week doing a partial social media and news fast, but I wasn’t totally offline. This particular story simply had not come through any of my narrow gates. They caught me up to speed, and we went on with our lives.
Still, I was vaguely troubled. Truth is, I take pride in knowing a lot of things about a lot of things. It bothered me that they knew and I didn’t. And there, my friends, is the difference between the virtue studiositas and the vice curiositas. Let me just clarify from the outset that I think it unfortunate that the vice looks a lot like our word “curiosity.” Curiosity—a sense of wonder and of wanting to know—is not a vice. Curiositas definitely is.
We are wired to want to know truth, to understand our world and to recognize God in the natural world and in one another. That desire to know is not sinful at all. Strictly speaking, knowledge of the truth is good. It becomes a problem when the knowledge acquired puffs us up and makes us proud. The desire to know can be disordered and immoderate. When that happens, it is not studiositas (the ordered pursuit of knowledge), but it is curiositas (an intemperate intellectual gluttony).
Fear Of Missing Out is intemperate intellectual gluttony. That’s the hard truth. Like every hard truth, there is genuine freedom in understanding it. We don’t need to know it all. We don’t need to be included in it all. It is fine, and even virtuous, to cultivate a temperate life online. You don’t have to read it all. You aren’t ignorant or unsophisticated or uncaring if you exercise restraint. That isn’t sticking our heads in the sand. When we choose the good and intentionally consume only from the sources that contribute to our well-being, we are stewarding our minds and bodies for his glory. We don’t want to be ignorant of culture or politics or hardship or brokenness, but we also don’t need to sit in the counsel of the wicked. It’s liberating to know that we don’t have to keep up with it all. Not only that, we shouldn’t.
Human beings need large swaths of silence. The Internet is a source of incessant noise. It opens portals to suffering and to injustice and to lies and, yes, even to wickedness. It’s loud and it’s demanding. You were not created to carry the weight of it. You can’t argue all the untruth, right all the wrongs, or defend all that is good. You have permission—indeed, you are encouraged—to choose not to engage and to sit, instead, in silent prayer for all you know and all you don’t know.
Pay attention to the way you process information online. Know that just as we all process differently, we also produce differently. You might carefully craft and carefully edit before you press “post.” You might do that with your heart in your throat, worrying about how it will be perceived. Someone else might not give nearly so much weight to her post. Responding also differs. We each bring our own experiences and our own wisdom to the way we perceive online information. Prudence actually dictates that we be slow to speak, and that we do so with an awareness of the value of words and nuance. Sometimes, discernment bears out in silence. There is no shame when someone chooses silence on a particular issue. We are not all called to social media activism for every cause and every argument.
Prayerfully limit your time and your presence online. Then, embrace the limitations you have set. See that they free you to engage wholeheartedly both online and offline in the places where you are truly called. We are not intended to render inch-deep and mile-wide care. God has entrusted you with a few things that are specifically yours. Pay careful attention to those few.