I’ve been writing and blogging my way through life and faith at Just Showing Up for close to eight years now. What began as a free and easy way to update family and friends about our pending adoption eventually gave way to a delightful means of building community and connection. It may sound funny, but it’s true: I love blogging. More than that, it has become clear over the years that I love to write, and I\’m really kind of excited, because what was once an occasional hobby is quickly becoming more of a Real Thing.

The Catholic Scene

But do you want to know something funny? The online Catholic “scene”, if you will, is something I’ve come to have some seriously mixed feelings about. Yes, in spite of my being (an admittedly very small) part of that scene, I regularly find myself shifting uncomfortably in my otherwise comfy desk chair over the seemingly-constant posturing, debate, and undue emphasis given to what I shall hereby call “Catholic Online Issues.”

The most obvious one being anything and everything related to Pope Francis, of course, but there are others. Check back in a few years, and it\’ll probably be something else.

It’s fascinating to me, because I\’m a convert. While there were a few Catholic blogs I came to appreciate, once upon a time, and which certainly helped me in my journey to conversion, I did not ultimately become Catholic because of so-and-so’s online presence, or because I thought the current Pope’s vestments were the best ever, or because I really related to what was being discussed on Facebook during that particular five minutes. No, I began investigating the audacious claims of the Roman Catholic Church, because of some nagging questions I’d had about marriage and children as they related to my life. The first Catholic writing I ever read was an encyclical written a long time ago, by a Pope now dead.

The element that kept me up at night and made me willing to investigate the possibility of BECOMING Catholic was this strange notion that the Church wasn’t teaching anything new. She was merely protecting and promulgating the original deposit of faith that had been handed down from the apostles. Unlike every single church I’d been a part of up until that point, these people believed—really, truly believed—that they had the fullness of the faith, and were anchored in what seemed to me to be the only historically plausible expression of Christianity. There is a beautiful peace that comes with not having to reinvent the wheel or read every single book in the theology section of the Protestant bookstore, because you now belong to the same tradition as St. Augustine, Blessed Mother Theresa, GK Chesterton, and the church fathers.

The Digital Continent

So I worry that in our zeal to (rightly) evangelize what Pope Benedict XVI referred to as the “digital continent,\” we may be (wrongly and to our detriment) exchanging the rich and timeless-therefore-relevant faith of our predecessors for the “tyranny of the now.\” I worry that we are so hyper-focused on current Catholic news, and discussion, and what Pope Francis may or may not have said (and meant) that we are forgoing authentic and nourishing face-to-face relationships with our fellow parishioners and priests. I worry that we are trading our birthright for a shallow, and ultimately meaningless substitute.

If you’re wondering how someone like me can simultaneously hold the positions that a) blogging is a worthwhile endeavor and b) people are putting way too much stock in what’s happening behind their computer screens, it’s because I believe that in its proper context, online interaction really does have untold potential for good. Truly. Blogs in particular have the ability to do something that physical books, or even more “official” online publications, can’t—they offer the reader a glimpse into what it looks like to live and breathe a faith system. Blogs allow for a window into a real person’s thoughts, experiences, and ponderings. That oppourtnity opens wide the door for possibility, because there are many, many people out there who would otherwise never encounter a consecrated religious, or a dad well-versed in Thomistic philosophy, or a mother raising eight children. The internet is, for better or worse (and really I do think it’s a little of both), an unthreatening way for people to try on new ideas. So we must be there, doing the long work of evangelism and love.

Yet at the same time, we have to remember that life is not lived two-dimensionally. The creeds and tenets that comprise our ancient faith do not shift with the tides of popular opinion or modern thought. Ultimately, the internet, while a good tool for doing so, ought not be completely necessary to pursuing God, receiving the Sacraments, or living well. We must take care to invest—really, truly invest–in parish life and real community, battling the threat of isolation and loneliness with charity, connection, and words spoken face-to-face. We must open not only our laptop,s but also our homes and our tables, our arms and our hearts. We must remember that “what happens online” is not the end all, be all, of the world or of humanity. It is a shadow, a manifestation, an expression. It is not everything.

Personally, I know that my day-to-day existence of raising children, the occasional dinner out with friends, attending Mass, scrubbing bathrooms, and yes writing too, is largely unaffected by the latest combox happening or Facebook scrap. When I perform an examination of conscience and consider how I attended to my God-given duties that day/week/month, most often the only thought given to the world wide web is how it distracted me from doing better things. It’s a balancing act, a means that must not become an end.

Staying Connected to Life

So yes, let us freely and joyfully engage online.

Forge and cultivate connection and find and build your platform. If you do not have flesh-and-blood local community, join a virtual tribe and seek solidarity there. Read articles and blogs and find creative ways to share the gospel with an increasingly technology-driven generation. Utilize social media for entertainment and for learning, and as an occasional reprieve from whatever your daily grind might look like.

But don’t give up on face-to-face friendship. Don’t give up on your parish. Don’t give up on classic books, sacred tradition, or the early church fathers—all of which remain 100% relevent today, forever and always, because the faith itself is unchanging. If that sounds rigid or boring or unrealistic to you, well, God is the same yesterday, today and tomorrow. We may want (and need!) to adapt our methods of evangelism, or ways of relating to the culture, but that is a different issue altogether. I believe this nuance to be of utmost importance. Don’t be afraid of the fact that we are irrevocably anchored to brilliant philosophers, courageous martyrs, and quietly humble nuns of old. It is an astoundingly rich and diverse heritage we boast, and one that ought not be forgotten in our world of celebrity-worship and addiction to Facebook \”likes\”.

As a blogger, there are few things I relish more than hearing from readers with questions or who have, for whatever reason, found encouragement in my clumsy words. Because that’s kind of the point–connection, and sharing my life experiences in hopes that they may be helpful to someone in even a small way. But I am also very aware that it is all too easy to lose perspective, to begin to believe that what is happening online is all that is happening, or the most important thing that is happening. When really? The screen has its uses and blogging has its place, but those things actually lose their effectiveness and potential for good when they are stripped from their proper context.

My hope for the coming year is that I will devote less time to the trivialities of the screen, and more time to reading quality spiritual writing. When I sit down to write, I want to do just that, and not get tied up in following silly online discussions that have virtually no bearing on me or on my life. I want more Jesus, less noise, and a stronger sense of my faith as it truly is, as opposed to how it might be framed by people on my ever fleeting Facebook feed.

How about you? Have you found a good way to integrate the virtual world with your faith? Do you have solid community in your local parish or diocese? If not, do you have plans to cultivate real-life connections with fellow Catholics? Is this a value for you? I would love to hear how you navigate these issues in our present age of social media dependence!

© 2014 Brianna Heldt. All rights reserved.