Not giving up anything for Lent

Occasionally, as this morning, I open Merton’s No Man Is an Island. I can only read a little — a few paragraphs or a few pages at most — lest my head explode. His chapter on Asceticism and Sacrifice seems particularly apt now at the start of Lent. A few of his remarks and my reactions:

• If my soul silences my flesh by an act of violence, my flesh will take revenge on the soul, secretly infecting it with a spirit of revenge (p.96).
  Indeed. Like many zealous young Christians, I went through a short period, a long time ago, when I woke very early to pray. I’m not sure it was such a good idea. Why did I do it? Perhaps I was inspired by some old saints who did that. But they did that as a result of growth in their lives. They’d gotten to a point in their lives where they hungered so much for that communion with God early in the morning that they took that step. I, on the other hand, just did it because it seemed like a cool thing to do. Did I do it to brag to my friends about how early I was up in the morning praying? I hope not, but I can’t tell you today for sure that I didn’t.
• There is only one true asceticism: that which is guided not by our own spirit but by the Spirit of God (p.96)…. Our self-denial is sterile and absurd if we practice it for the wrong reasons or, worse still, without any valid reason at all (p.101).
  This is the reason I’m not giving up anything for Lent: I don’t have a sense from God that there’s any particular thing that he wants me to. NPR had a piece a few years ago about giving up this or that for Lent. A young man talked about giving up candy or something but not having seen any results from it; he wondered if what he ought to do instead is something positive and active: adding service and charity to hsi life, rather than subtracting beer or facebook from it (paraphrasing liberally).
• The only sacrifice He accepts is the purity of our love. Any renunciation that helps us to love God more is good and useful. (p.107)
  Perhaps I wrote or spoke too soon. Have I some habit that distracts me from loving God? Crossword puzzles perhaps, or the Jumble®? H’m…
• The whole mechanism of modern life is geared for a flight from God and from the spirit into the wilderness of neurosis. (p.109)

  Modern life certainly does seem geared that way. By its emphasis on “productivity,” the mechanism of modern life wordlessly declares what’s valuable, and says we don’t have “enough” of it. (I put “productivity” in quotes because the things we try to optimize “productivity” of aren’t intrinsically worthwhile: lines of non-comment source statements, stock portfolio valuation, “efficiency” — in contrast with the image of productivity shown at right.)

• Bodily agitation… is an enemy to the spirit. And by agitation I do not necessarily mean exercise or movement. There is all the difference in the world between agitation and work. (p.109)
  The Proverbs tell us that a heart at peace gives life to the body, but passion rots the bones (the NIV has “envy”). Not that we should strive to have passionless lives, or to remove ourselves from anything we might like to have, but I think Merton is telling us that when we are agitated, our bodies are distracting our spirit from what the latter should attend to. I think we’ve all experienced both situations implied here — working hard (but being at peace) and sitting still (while being agitated inside). No prize for guessing which is healthier.

So what is the secret? How do we remain at peace with the world pressing around us? Quit reading the paper? Stop watching the news? Turn off the cell phone and the email?

That’s probably good to do sometimes — as Jesus sometimes did. On the other hand, we probably don’t want to completely withdraw either; Jesus prayed for his disciples (John 17:15-17) — including us, John 17:20-21: My prayer is not that you take them out of the world but that you protect them from the evil one. They are not of the world, even as I am not of it. Sanctify them by the truth; your word is truth.

So we need to retreat sometimes, but we’re not to withdraw entirely. I’m sure community is important, too, but that’s for another post.

Forgiveness in a Digital World

Over at the Volokh Conspiracy, Eugene Volokh asks:

Say a blogger posts an accurate story — perhaps based on a news report or a court decision — that discusses some minor misconduct by some person. The post names that person.

Several years later, the person asks the blogger to remove the post, or to remove the person’s name from the post. The person is not a government official or other important figure (at least at that point; one never knows what will happen in the future). The past misconduct was pretty minor, and doesn’t suggest that the person will be a serious menace to his friends, neighbors, or others. But it’s embarrassing, and the person doesn’t like this story coming up whenever the person’s name is Googled.

The person asks the blogger, as a favor and not as a legal demand — which you can assume would be groundless in any event — to help out. “I’ve suffered enough for my minor misbehavior,” the person says or implies; “please help me start afresh with my new friends, acquaintances, and business partners.”

Prof. Volokh presents a moral dilemma that I think is best resolved by trying to place oneself in the shoes of the person making the request — i.e., by following the Golden Rule. But instead of focusing on how his question should be answered, I want to point out that this is the first time in the history of the world in which this kind of question could be asked.

Reputation is the collection of ideas and opinions held about us by others in the world. Throughout the course of history, the geographical and temporal scope of individual reputations has been growing. Long ago, the scope of reputations was limited to word-of-mouth within extended kinship circles. This is why, for example, at weddings the officiant will ask whether anybody present has any reason to object to the marriage. Before written records of marriage, it was up to eyewitness accounts and word-of-mouth to ensure that the marriage was legal.

As technology improved and economies grew more wealthy, the use of written records became more prevalent. The printing press was another major leap in the potential scope of reputation, as it became economic for tracts, pamphlets, and other information to be distributed to large groups, and also, just as importantly, for that information to be stored or archived for posterity.

But in reflecting on the differences between how information was shared before the Internet and after, I am struck by the persistence of digital information. Newspaper and magazine stories are widely distributed, but often forgotten within a few news cycles. Prior to the Internet, these stories were archived in libraries, available to historians or others willing to take the time to dig them out, but otherwise mostly forgotten.

By contrast, now anyone with casual interest in knowing something about another can type that person’s name into a search engine, and obtain a record of their entire history online. Moreover, that history includes now not only newspaper or magazine articles, but blog posts, blog comments, social network profiles, and even text messages sent through services such as Twitter.

In reflecting on the new digital world, I was reminded of Jesus’ words in Matthew 12:

[E]very idle word that men shall speak, they shall give account thereof in the day of judgment: For by thy words thou shalt be justified, and by thy words thou shalt be condemned.

This is a powerful message, and it runs counter to much of the culture we find developing on the Internet right now. In many online forums, one may observe people attempting to grab attention for themselves by writing or saying things, or presenting images, that most of us would be ashamed to say or show at a party with the same people invited offline. The online environment lulls us into a false sense of security, anonymity, and control over our separation from other people. In fact, as anybody will admit upon reflection, online environments are less secure, less anonymous, and less subject to our control than offline environments, according to many ways of measuring these.

As a follower of Jesus I am subject both to the same temptations to draw attention to myself in destructive ways and to the same desire (of which I believe God approves) to socialize and get to know other people online. Are there any prescriptions to be found in the teachings of Jesus that might assist in considering how to behave online? Here are my initial thoughts on this subject.

Our reputations or identities are a collage of how both others and we ourselves have perceived our activities both at present and in memory over the course of our lifetimes. We reinterpret that collage — usually in small ways, sometimes in big — as we make conscious choices for ourselves about what to believe, what goals to pursue, who to spend time with, and so on. Digital technology means that we have more work interpretive to do than ever. The collage now stretches across the globe and persists over decades and centuries. We must consider not only of how what we say and do will affect those in our family; we must consider how it may affect the entire world.

And part of the difficulty in interpreting the collage is that we are inconsistent. Paul talks about this inconsistency as a war between flesh and spirit. That war will become explicit as more and more of our thoughts and feelings move online, and become exposed to others around us.

I believe that an important task for us as followers of Jesus is to create a culture of forgiveness for each other. As I see it, digital memory and reputation presents the world with two alternatives: either we can use past records as a record of wrongs with which to attack each other, or we can use past records as a record of how much we have learned and grown through various experiences. Christians have a unique opportunity to mirror the love of Jesus by turning the other cheek online, and creating a safe haven for people to change their opinions — and eventually their reputations — online.