I have been a bit overwhelmed of late by reading my social media feeds. It seems every hour I am notified that a new statement, article, witty comment, or profound expression of concern has been posted. Most of these posts are focused on a deep concern for our nation’s leadership, policy decisions, character and, indeed, our very identity as a people. Some really brilliant stuff is being posted, exhortations even worthy of the great prophets. However, some are rather angry words, often mean-spirited and hateful.
I confess that I appreciate the passion of the voices crying out on social media for justice, peace, truthfulness, mercy, and charity in our public life. My social media feeds generally act as an echo chamber of my own perspectives. However, I also must confess that I recoil at the mean spirit of so much of what I read on my social media feed and the “crowd” applause to the imaginary bloody wounds these comments cause.
I’ve also found myself avoiding the temptation to add my own voice to the roar of anger on social media. And, yet, I certainly share the feelings: anger, fear, sadness, frustration, and loss. All of these have become my companions. As a new grandfather, I wonder about the nation and world my grandchild will inherit.
It is Lent, and this is my fast: I will pray, I will hope, and I will act. My action, however, will not likely take the form of posts to social media, for those messages never reach the ears that need to hear, nor are they likely to be seen by the individuals who are accountable for policy decisions.
My representatives in congress are not waiting to see my next post on Facebook. However, they are much more likely to read a letter or an email that I send, or hear a voicemail or a call I make. And so that is what I will be doing this Lent. I will be acting by writing, emailing, and calling my representatives. Perhaps you might join me in this discipline, too. Even if we disagree at every turn, let us be sure that those who are accountable for the decisions that affect us hear from us. And let us continue the hard work of being accountable to the one who called us to love one another as he loved us, and called us to love our neighbor as ourselves.
“Is not this the kind of fasting I have chosen: to loose the chains of injustice and untie the cords of the yoke, to set the oppressed free and break every yoke?
Is it not to share your food with the hungry and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter—when you see the naked, to clothe them, and not to turn away from your own flesh and blood?
Then your light will break forth like the dawn, and your healing will quickly appear; then your righteousness will go before you, and the glory of the Lord will be your rear guard. Then you will call, and the Lord will answer; you will cry for help, and he will say: Here am I.
“If you do away with the yoke of oppression, with the pointing finger and malicious talk, and if you spend yourselves in behalf of the hungry and satisfy the needs of the oppressed, then your light will rise in the darkness, and your night will become like the noonday.” (Isaiah 58:6-10)
