It Is the Damn Phone
And What It Does to Our Soul
In this article, I want to write about social media. Blog articles, reports and videos already abound about the negative effects of social media. I can recommend the Netflix series "The Social Dilemma". But that's only half the point here. In this article, I would like to link the Christian faith with social media. What it does to our Seelse, and why we somehow feel emptier and emptier, even though we consume more and are more connected to each other than in past centuries. At least that's what we assume.
It is the phone. Or, to put it more precisely: It is the all-consuming present of social media. We have known it for a long time, and yet we do not seem to address it: our lives are no longer interrupted by the digital, but have long been permeated by it. With it also our faith, our community, our attention, our prayer, even our humanity. "I lift up one eye to the mountains – where does help come from?" (Ps 121:1). This is how the psalmist prays. His gaze goes up. To creation, to the Creator, to hope. But our eyes hardly go up today. They stick to the screen. We have lost sight of the sky because we have lost ourselves in the small screen of everyday life. But what does this mean for our faith? We hardly find silence anymore. At the same time, we sit in silence and let ourselves be entertained by videos. Every second.
A heart that scrolls through feeds non-stop can hardly find the silence in which God speaks. We, who are constantly online, forget the waiting. Miss the present, the moment. At the same time, we ignore eternity.
Social media thrives on visibility. If you don't post, you don't exist at all. At least not online. If you don't comment, you don't count. If you don't perform, you lose. But the Gospel leads us in the opposite direction: "When you pray, go into your closet" (Mt 6:6). Christ calls us to concealment. To humility. Not to pray as the Pharisees did back then. On the street, in front of all people, to be seen and to get recognition. We don't. We are invisible to men and visible to God. Our heart is not a theater in which we flaunt ourselves. It is a temple with which we deny ourselves (Lk 9:23). "Community" is one of the most used words in the digital space. But what we call "community" there is often nothing more than absolute solitude. Closeness without depth, exchange without real relationship. People sit next to each other in the café, but everyone stares at their device. And young people? Aren't they all so networked? No. Although they are digitally connected, they still complain about loneliness like no generation before. This is no wonder. Maybe we have to learn to really meet each other again... with open eyes, a shared life. With a community to which Christ calls us. In real life and in compassion. The ecclesia, the church, is always corporeal and tangible. It lives from the incarnate assembly of believers. God came to earth bodily, perceptibly. That is the challenge of our time: we are unlearning what it means to really meet each other. In a world governed by algorithms, it's not what's true that counts – it's what gets a lot of clicks and likes. Everything that excites, that polarizes. But the Christian faith is based on truth. Truth that does not come from majorities. Not by trend curves, but by revelation: "I am the truth," says Christ (Jn 14:6). What is needed is a new sobriety, a critical spirit that discerns spirits (1 Jn 4:1)
"It is the damn phone."
Yes, it is. But it is a reflection of a deeper problem: we have lost ourselves in the world of images, voices and posts and are now desperately searching for redemption. The good news? It's that Christ is not digital. He is not far away either. He stands at the door and knocks (Rev 3:20). He is not waiting for a like, but for repentance. For trust. For discipleship.
Come on!!!! This is so good
SO true, sadly.