Julie R. Neidlinger: Lone Prairie Studies Blog

Guise in disguise.

written by Julie R. Neidlinger 0 comments link this post

It is impossible.

After a long absence, while cleaning out my bookmark folders, I wound up back on an old site I'd said goodbye to. I read with disinterest; the edge had long worn off in absence, I found. Despite that, all else seemed the same; same writers, mostly, and same commenters (plus a few new ones who had adapted to the nature of the beast). Same tone, same arguments, same jabs, same ploys. I went to the page that outlined the challenge, for the challenge was there, indeed.

Our challenge in fighting this spirit is to refrain from stooping to the same levels, to refrain from employing the same tactics.

Can you refrain from the same tactics if you forget what they are? Can I answer the critics, the wet blankets, the naysayers, the attackers, without becoming one myself? Can I use sarcasm and satire to successfully respond without stopping, using nothing but asterisks and hash marks and the hope that readers won't take it wrong? Should I even try to be witty and get some kind of verbal upper hand if my goal is to avoid employing those same tactics?

This morning I had an interesting discussion with a couple of friends over the concept of distance learning, and how, despite the very best possibilities and even degree to which it may seem successful, it is always inferior to being there in person with the teacher.

Online discussion, particularly in the religious realm, is inferior. It is impersonal.

You can tell me all you want about the valuable information and educational element, but there is no way around it: it has nothing to do with the person.

Jesus was personal. He was about the person.

Touching. Speaking aloud. Looking. Crying. Writing in the sand in the moment, surrounded in person by the angry mob he was writing to. Remaining silent.

Blogs and forums, and the wicked sharp comment zingers and blog-off-shoots, are not about the person. They are not about love. By their very nature and requisite replies, they have nothing to do with humility. They are only answering back, in a kind of echo, and nothing more.

Silence is not the weakness people think it is. Giving no answer is a strong answer; it forces the clamor to die down and the yapping dogs to starve. Remaining quiet in the midst of attack or accusation has a great precedent. There is no need to defend beyond simple statement. No rejoinder. No need for verbal coup d'etat.

Our challenge is to find that middle ground where holiness, humility and grace meet.

What if the middle ground does not hold those qualities? Who longs for the middle ground but the middler-grounder?

Is it possible for humility exist in responding to critics or those I disagree with? Can humility exist in the clamor and rancor? So often humility exists in the silence of not having the last word, the silence of restraint, the silence of allowing the other person the triumphant moment and trusting that in time, God will do His work.

Can holiness exist in sarcasm and verbal barbs? Is it enough to extol grace while using the excuse that because Jesus went after the Pharisees, I ought to, too? Can I be anything but a mirror image of those I respond to, when my aim is very much to respond?

Time away from all of these blogs has given me fresh eyes, and I don't doubt that someone -- perhaps a late night web surfer interested in the person of Jesus Christ -- stumbling upon either variety of blog would turn away disgusted.

The idea is noble, the desire may be true, but the medium's effect on the message can't be disguised.

Less words, more faith. Less words, more works. Less words.

I continued to clear out my bookmarks and blogroll. I am not yet fully decided on the value of online religious debate and discussion, but I think I am getting close.