"But the Lord said to Samuel: Do not judge from his appearance or from his lofty stature ... God does not see as a mortal, who sees the appearance. The Lord looks into the heart." (1 Samuel 16:7)
Social media has upended our lives, which may only be evident to those of us who remember a time before social media existed. My heart goes out to parents raising kids right now. Striking the balance between virtual activity and real-world activity must be a struggle.
But it's not only young people who have tethered themselves to their online profiles and devices. We see among all ages an obsession with posting our lives before we go about living our lives. Perhaps you've been out to dinner with friends who document everything they're served before actually eating a bite. Or are you the one memorializing your charcuterie board?
"Pics or it didn't happen," goes the popular saying, so we take photos of our outfits, our meals, our vacations, our pets, our children, our homes, which we then edit so as to post them in the most flattering way. We labor to show the world, or at least our followers, what a happy, pretty, charmed life we lead. While "keeping up with the Joneses" is a social malady older than cyberspace, the internet has magnified and accelerated our social stress exponentially.
Our insides, however, may not match our outsides. Our online persona can hide our deep feelings of inadequacy. We may look "insta-happy," but are we for-real-happy?
The contest to look good on the outside no matter what's happening on the inside presents a spiritual pitfall. The work of our souls may suffer from the destructive emphasis on appearances. "Do not follow their example," Jesus tells his followers, speaking about the scribes and Pharisees, the influencers of his time. "For they preach but they do not practice ... All their works are performed to be seen." (Matthew 23:3,5)
Imagine the over-the-top Instagram accounts those Pharisees might have maintained. Jesus has no patience for those who value and show off their status or wealth or possessions. Nor should we.
But it's hard to fight the insistence of social media's definition of the ideal way for us to look, to act, to talk. Most of us fall short, but we feel the pressure to conform. We succumb to FOMO, the Fear Of Missing Out, when we scroll through others' posts. We feel that everyone we know (or wish we knew) is having a much more fulfilling, picturesque, fun-seeking life, and looks flawless doing it. We can't compare to these influencers, and we may despair of ever satisfying the online thirst for more content.
The burden to look insta-happy is especially heavy for young people, who may still be figuring out who they are and what they want to become. They may not yet understand that to be different is not to be deficient. They may focus on their own shortcomings and judge themselves harshly. The avalanche of social media can bury them alive. And they may not see that some of the unhappiest people on earth look really good online. The appearance of joy does not always equal joy.
Technology is here to stay, but periodic unplugging from online activity benefits us all. (There is even an unironic app called "Unplug.") As in all of life, stepping back to find our balance, reestablish our priorities, and fix our perspective is essential.
The time spent away from our electronics can remind us that we are meant for more. Like going outside and breathing fresh air, for starters. Like reconnecting in person to the people we love. Like contributing to a more just and peaceful world. Like sensing that God looks into our heart and loves us unconditionally.
Our endeavors may not look good online, but maybe the things of the heart are too important to post.
Email contributing columnist Valerie Schultz at vschultz22@gmail.com. The views expressed here are her own.
