Why I don't Argue on the Internet

The internet is a funny place. In some ways it resembles real life. People interract, they communicate, share ideas, thoughts, emotions. People develop real relationships on the internet, although necessarily they are not the same kind of relationships that they develop in face-to-face social interractions. You cannot literally have coffee with someone on the internet, but you can talk with someone else who is also having coffee (or tea, if, like me, you do not regularly drink coffe.) There are limits to the level of interraction you can have on the internet. Hugs don't really translate well, among other things. This does not necessarily mean that the relationships that develop on the internet are fake, only that they are different.

In other ways the internet is a totally different kind of world, the sort that simply couldn't exist without the barrier of distance and anonymity that the internet provides. It is a world without filters, where all sorts of filth and vulgarity can be produced and consumed. It is a world without consequences, where you can say whatever you like to whomever you like. A comment that I would justifiably punch you in the face for in the real world can be made with perfect safety on the internet. My fist will never travel down the signals of wi-fi and fly at you out of your computer screen.

Alas.* :-(

In a way the internet is a fantasy land. It is the imagination of millions upon millions of people made visible and audible. If the imagination of the person creating that particular site or post or comment is a beautiful imagination, the internet allows him to express it in ways that would not otherwise be possible. A prime example would be the incredibly talented artists who post their music on youtube, sharing it with the world for free. Writers who cannot afford to publish or who don't have the time or personality to deal with the cutthroat world of the publishing industry can still share their writings with a world-wide audience. On the other hand, if the imagination is sick and twisted, or even just plain self-centered, what comes out of it will reflect that.

Well, here we are with this fantasy land, the absolute freedom to put whatever media our minds can invent on it, to be seen by anyone in the world. Small wonder if, once in a while, you run up against someone who disagrees with you. The disagreement can run the gamut from "You know, you make a bunch of good points, but I couldn't help noting..." to "U R sch a ----ing morron i bet u never went to school i bet u never had a job why dont u get a ----ing clue!"

On the internet, as in life, it's all in how you respond. The difference between the internet and real life is that on the internet, I rarely respond at all, and I never argue.

I rarely argue in real life, but sometimes I will make an exception. On the internet, however, I've learned to bite my tongue (or my fingers).

Part of that is simply time. I just don't have the time to get sucked into a long term argument, especially at the pace most arguments maintain on the internet. My responses might take a week to come, and most people would lose interest in that time.

But more than that, it just doesn't do any good. I have argued many arguments over the years. Since I joined the army I have spent countless hours debating with my fellow soldiers in the barracks, in the trucks, in the field, in garrison. I also spent far too many hours debating with atheists, protestants and other Catholics on the internet. As far as I can tell, which, admittedly, is not very far, not one single person has ever grown wiser because of those arguments.

Seriously, when have you ever had an argument on the internet in which someone said, "I have to admit, you've stumped me. I concede that you are right. I will no longer (dis-believe in God, argue about 2nd amendment rights, wear a bikini, etc.)" That doesn't even happen in real life.

In other ages people knew how to argue reasonably and dispassionately. As C. S. Lewis said, they knew when a thing was proven and were prepared to change their behavior because of it. We don't know how to do that. In our society argument has the exact opposite effect. Instead of making people better acquainted with the other person's views, it makes them more certain of their own ironclad rectitude. In all the arguing I have done I have never once truly listened. I only listen when I do not argue. I listen when I shut up.

I have learned that people are not convinced by facts. Seeing is not believing, not to us. Believing is seeing. People are convinced by action, by consistency, and most of all by relationship. Argument hardens our positions, relationship opens them. If I try hard enough I can find something to disagree about with any person alive, but is that really going to bring anyone, least of all myself, closer to the truth?

Only in real life or in academia does argument have a legitimate use. In academia it is useful because the arguers may not be emotionally invested in the argument. In real life it may is only useful if there is a context of trust, a relationship that gives you a reason to listen and really try to hear what the other person is saying. In the end, the only reason to argue with someone is because you love them. If I don't love you in some way, I simply won't argue with you, because you will have no reason to listen.

But of course, the arguers will argue (and I argue it myself). Of course we have to love them. That's called charity. It doesn't mean you get all sappy about them, but you have to do the right thing and share the truth with them. That's what love really is.

Ah, but you see, there is a hidden danger there. The fact that charity does require us to do good for someone is no guarantee that just because I am telling the truth I am necessarily doing so out of love. There are a million reasons why I could share the truth with someone that have nothing to do with love. I have seen the truth used as a hammer to beat people over the head. That certainly is not love.

More to my point, even if I truly do love someone, real charity is hard fare. The supernatural virtue of charity, the hard, fierce, burning love that ruthlessly acheives the good for the beloved at any cost, is beyond me. I am not ready for that and neither, I suspect, are most humans. There is a reason that God dilutes His love. Instead of hitting us in the thundering cataract of total self gift, He allows it to come to us by degrees, in softer ways. Sunsets, pizza, beer, hugs, handshakes, music, babies laughing, being in love, all of these are ways for Him to tone His love down to our level. Even if I truly do love someone and want to see them get to Heaven, hitting them in the face with that may not necessarily be the way to go about it. Perhaps what they need is not a lecture on why it is wrong to receive Communion in the hand. Perhaps what they really need is a cup of tea. Or to watch a movie. Or just to be listened to.

We don't convince people by speaking to them. We convince them by listening to them.




*Since someone will undoubtedly think this means that I routinely punch people in the face for disagreeing with me, let me assure you this is not so. Not that I have anything against punching people in the face in principle, but there is a time and a place for it, you know.

Stability

It's a testament to the state of my life right now that, although I originally thought of this post two, almost three, weeks ago, I haven't had a chance to write it down until now. That, in itself, is not that unusual. I often take a long time to finish a thought, even in face to face conversations. It is not unusal for me to think about a blog for weeks before I actually write it out, and I wish I could say that was the case with this one. However that is not what happened. What happened was I got the idea, sketched out a brief idea in my head, and then forgot about it for two weeks because I simply didn't have the time to think. Or rather, I had time for thinking, but other things took priority.

But tonight I am back at the house before eight, my e-mails are caught up, tomorrow's lunch is packed, and my stomach is full so let's see if I can't write something.

About two and a half weeks ago I went out with some friends to a lecture on Benedictine Spirituality (it was a lot more fun than that makes it sound.) The Benedictine order has a tri-fold vow that they make, which is slightly different from the typical religious vow of poverty, chastity and obedience. Benedictines vow obedience, conversion of life, and stability and it was the vow of stability that made up a good portion of the talk. Considering that the audience was primarily young adults there is a certain irony in that.

Stability in the Benedictine order means that the monk makes a choice to remain with his monastery for the rest of his life. He cannot even go to visit another monastery without permission from his abbot, and he can never move out without breaking his vow. Even to work outside the monastery requires special permission. Perhaps the reason why this concept stuck so strongly with me is because it is the complete antithesis of our modern culture, especially among my generation. In America things are made to wear out. When it does wear out you throw it away and buy a new one. We try different jobs or college majors looking for the perfect fit, by which we usually mean something that will never get old or be boring or require us to get up early on a monday morning. If something doesn't stay as fun and fresh as it looked in the brochure we discard it and try something else. We take up one relationship after another, looking for one that will stay interesting and spontaneous. When our own humanity interferes with that fantasy we fight, break up, and go out looking again. We live in an unstable and disposable culture, and against that background the stability of the Benedictines stands in sharp, formidable contrast, like a mountain.

A few days after this talk a close friend of mine pointed out that my life is almost exactly the opposite of the Benedictine vow. Since I left home at 17 I have lived in Texas, New York, Korea, Kansas, Iraq, Afghanistan, North Carolina and Washington State. The longest I have stayed in one place was two and a half years in North Carolina. The second longest was fifteen months in Afghanistan. Interspersed with that has been a string of short stops at various places for schools and a short trip to Thailand. Truthfully, there has been very little stability in my adult life. It's odd, however, that it took someone else looking at me from the outside and pointing it out before I saw that. It puts into context my growing desire to put down roots somewhere and stop moving every couple of years. My books are getting harder and harder to lug around.

That lack of stability, however, was not apparent to me because in reality it is somewhat superficial. I don't really define myself in terms of place, but in terms of character and relationship. My priority for most of that time was not my job or the unit or my career. Instead I was focused on developing my character. I had a very clear idea of the sort of person I wanted to become and that provided a context for everything that happened outside me. Every change, or move, or event was simply one more thing shaping me, but it was the shaping that I was interested in, not the things themselves.

As I got older I did not become any less focused on that interior life, but it took on a new dimension. It became a relationship, rather than a solitary pursuit of an ideal. I began to see how God was the one shaping me, or to put it another way, calling me, and began to recognize His immediacy and His stability. At the same time I was also recapturing, or maybe developing for the first time, a real, solid appreciation for my family. I realized that, no matter how long I was in the Army it was not a permanent thing. It is designed not to be permanent. It is the kind of job that you can do only for a certain portion of your life. Even within that time you change units and duty stations every few years. But God and Family, they do not change. God is the constant upon which all true constancy rests. He has been with me, leading and guiding, calling and shaping, every moment since I was formed in the womb. And the tool that He used to form and shape me was my family. My parents will always be my parents, in this world and in the next. My siblings likewise, and my cousins and aunts and uncles and grandparents, etc. The relationships exist outside of the narrow confines of time. That is what is important, that is what is real and stable. That is what has provided the constancy in my crazy life, even when I was too dumb to see it.

The Benedictine vow of stability is not a norm but a witness. In voluntarily tying themselves to a single geographic location for their entire lives they bear witness to the rest of us that we are meant to do the same, spiritually. We are meant to choose freely to belong to something (say rather Someone) that will last. Love, then, is our bedrock. Goodness, truth and beauty are footprints of that love, but more than the footprint is offered us. We are told that we may learn to possess that very Love Himself, for He longs to give Himself too us. That is our permanence, our stabilty, our constant endurance. All else is but a ripple.

Why I Love People Who Hate Religion

I think I should probably get out more. Apparently there is a video that went viral (is it just me, or does that phrase just sound bad?) on the internet of a young man standing in a parking lot rapping about why he hates religion but loves Jesus. I heard about it through the responses for days before I actually saw the video. I didn’t watch any of the video responses, but I read a great deal of argumentation against it. Finally, I went to the ignitumtoday.com post about it and watched the original video there, and then watched several of the video responses. For those who haven’t seen the original video it is here:

My favorite response was this one:

The poetry was better than any of the others, and his beard is way awesome.

I have to say, I liked the original video. It was well done, heartfelt and sincere. The poetry wasn’t great, a good number of the rhymes were forced, and the lines wouldn’t scan well written out, but that’s common with rap. It is a performing art. It is simply not meant to be read. The performer has to adjust his cadence to make the lines fit and his performance was (in my opinion) quite good, which is saying very little as I am not a general fan of rap and don’t listen to it often. It was, at any rate, a better effort than any of the attempted rap responses I’ve seen, except the Don Bosco priest with the beard.

I think most of the responses I have read and watched simply ignored the poetry and went straight to the theology. Perhaps they are right to do so, but I thought someone should at least say something about his poetry. The responses mostly begin right away with quoting from scripture to dismantle his points, one by one, and perhaps they are right to do this as well. At least it saves me the trouble. On the other hand, I don’t think I would have argued his points in any event. I don’t think that is the right response. It seems to me that most of the arguers aren’t really listening. They watched the video and all they hear is an attack on the Church, and they respond to that with varying degrees of patience, humility and eloquence.

I don’t know, perhaps they heard something I didn’t hear, but when I listened to the video, this young man reciting his poem, I didn’t hear an argument. I heard a poem. I heard an echo in my own heart of everything he was saying, and I realized, this fellow isn’t rejecting the Church at all. How could he? He has never known the Church. I don’t know whether he was Catholic or Protestant, but whatever the case may be, I would be very surprised if he has ever seen the real Church. He has seen only a shadow church, partly created by others, partly created by himself. Unable to see the reality behind the shadow, he thinks the shadow is the Church and he rejects it. And he is right to do so. He is absolutely right to reject everything he describes in his poem.

This is why I wouldn’t argue against him at all. If I tried to defend the Church I would find myself beating the air because he is not even talking about the Church. He is not even talking about religion, even when he uses the word. I would not be addressing his issues, and he would have no idea what I was talking about because his understanding of the words “Church” and “religion” are defined strictly in terms of his experience with the shadow church. We would be arguing from different premises. Not only that, but he will never read this blog and so I wouldn’t even be talking to him.

Instead I am speaking to people who have seen his video on the internet, or seen the flurry of defensiveness directed towards it and wonder what all the fuss is about. I encourage you to listen to the poem, but listen to him, not your own commentary on it. Know that this man doesn’t know what religion is, but if he were to substitute the word “hypocrisy” for the word “religion”, no Catholic would argue with it. It also would never have gone viral, but that’s another topic altogether.

If you do have the good fortune to be able to meet with this guy, or one of the thousands who listened to his poem and responded “Yes, that’s it! That’s exactly what I’ve been saying,” think about how you are to respond to them. They do not know what the Church is. They know only the shadow church. I don’t think this calls for arguing against their points. I think it calls for understanding their points, and then introducing them to the real Church, which cannot be done by words alone. Therefore it is costlier. The fruit will be in proportion to the cost.