Public Displays of Compassion

Despite being a Facebook user, and having met some really nice and intelligent people, I still find the notion of “social networking” quite strange.  I find myself conflicted about spending time looking at it, commenting, “liking,” posting some wisecracks or updates on what happens in my daily life.  It is bizarre to tell a bunch of people that you are baking cookies, or are done with your papers, or even that you are frustrated with the government. 

And I don’t have any problems with sharing of knowledge, which might expand our minds, or raise our spirits.  The society is moving fast and information is available so quickly.  But how much of it do we really see, ponder, understand, and feel?  Aren’t we really, in the end, seeking “friends” on Facebook the same way we would seek friends in our tactile world?  Aren’t we in the end interested (mainly) in communicating with people that are like-minded, if not the same?  Aren’t we (mainly) interested in being affirmed in what we already believe and think? 

So, the bigger question is how connected are we really?  And are we simply transposing the world we knew before Facebook into the world, which exists in the paradigm of Facebook? 

I think that we have always suffered from inauthenticity and lack of connecting with one another.  Facebook just made it more possible, and its environment has allowed us to continue being who we were (are) in the world B.Fb. (“Before Facebook”).  Since the primary mode of existence on Facebook is composed of virtual reality, then it is easier to “friend” or “unfriend” someone quickly, without thinking twice about it, and without having a face-to-face encounter.  We enter a level of friendship, which is usual in children—when we get tired of one friend, because he does not give us any pleasure, we discard him.  I don’t want to play with you anymore because…fill in the blank. The fact that we are now allowed to hide our physicality behind a screen is just another way of being anti-social. 

To blame the creation of Facebook for such ridiculous behaviors would be wrong.  I enjoy my encounters with a few people that I have on Facebook, and in the end, I know that I connect with some more, and some less.  And I am also looking forward to the day when I meet some of them in person!  But my criticisms of the Facebook phenomenon pertain to a larger evaluation of our society.

Take for example the recent shooting in Connecticut.  This has caused so many postings on Facebook—pictures, names, the need to memorialize immediately, prayers that go with names, hearts broken left and right.  And what are you left with?  Clichés.  Platitudes.  People feeling good about themselves, propping up their own self-esteem by publicly displaying pity and compassion, and the levels of religiosity and piety.  Personally, I got tired looking at it all.  Too much.  It all becomes a sea of post-it notes that it creates its own wallpaper, and then you can’t even see what the message really is. 

There is a need, an obsession even, in our society to get through things quickly.  After the shooting in Connecticut, the need was to immediately have a memorial, immediately provide a psychological help for the post-traumatic stress victims, immediately change legislation on guns, immediately change what we do with people with mental disorders, even immediately ask theological questions, such as how can God allow this? 

First, the memorial is something, which must be reflected upon and has to do with the ethics of memory for each individual who lost their loved one.  Secondly, if there are traces of post-traumatic stress, and if they choose to emerge, they will do so most likely years later, and will be induced by daily mundane stresses.  Thirdly, playing politics is corrupt, and guns are not “guilty.”  Fourthly, not everyone suffers from a mental disorder, and maybe it is time to call people “guilty” and seek real justice.  And fifthly, the question of how can God allow this has been asked so many times before, and will continue to be asked.  People, both children and adults have died before in much larger, more horrific circumstances.  During the war in Bosnia, to speak from personal experiences, in the city of Sarajevo alone, over 1500 children were killed, and over 15000 wounded.  And let me not even get into the Holocaust.

This immediacy naturally spills over into the Facebook world—everyone hurries to display the concern, the prayers, and thoughts.  If you do not do such a thing it hardly makes you a cold-hearted bastard.  During that time when I left a few comments on the Facebook, and also in conversations outside of the virtual world, I found myself prefacing my feelings with “Of course what happened in Connecticut is terrible…”  This clearly points to a linguistic and cultural dictatorship.  We are not allowed to say what we think.  There is something rotten in this whole set up.

My point is not to minimize these deaths (see, I am prefacing again!); my point is to say that life and death require reflection, a time which slows down, and which is not maintained and controlled by the media.  Reflecting and finding meaning in suffering (if there is any) is not a list of “how to…” steps. 

In the midst of these saccharine self-serving displays, in the midst of focusing on legal and psychological issues, and quickly solving theological questions about the nature of evil, we are forgetting one important thing: justice.  Blaming guns or mental disorders reflects an inability to see the fallibility of the perpetrator.  No matter how many memorials we erect in such a short period of time, or show the personal stories of those who were killed (“she was such a happy and kind person”—would it make it easier to swallow if “she” was an unhappy and unkind person?)—if we continue to blame the outside forces for the acts of evil, there will never be justice.

And so, we must slow down.  Prayer knows no time.  Remembering knows no time.  Reflecting knows no time.  Understanding and judging even, knows no time.  And more than anything, forgiving knows no time.