"If you don't like what I've said, just unfollow me." I see this retort pop up in my Twitter feed and Facebook account at least once a week, and often from Christian friends. Usually they're responding to someone who disagrees with a statement they made on Facebook. It seems to be used as a conversation-ending trump card: "I'm right, you're wrong, and I'm not going to waste my time with your ignorance." I've even seen this statement in friends' profiles. It's embedded in their online identities—before anyone has said a word. The sign marking the boundaries of their digital persona reads, "Disagree with me? Then stay away!"
Maybe they feel provoked. Maybe they feel backed into a corner. Maybe they want to identify themselves as "a person of truth." But, to me, these are indicators that darker things are bubbling beneath the surface.
Long Live the Kings
Most of us share only the best parts of life on social media. We're kings and queens of cyberspace. We have photo-shopped avatars, and unlimited information at our fingertips. We "like" the trendiest music, the hottest TV shows. We populate our virtual utopias with hundreds (or thousands) of "followers" who think and act like us. We toss them the occasional witty blurb or clever quote and watch the "likes" and "retweets" and comments (currency in this digital empire) flow in. With one click, dissenters are ousted. It's so much easier to raise the drawbridge when we don't have to see someone's face.
Our online presence can expose, and exacerbate, our sinful tendencies. "Unfollow me" is another form of "go to hell" ("away from my presence!"). Defensiveness, avoidance, provocation, and the other justifications for this statement stir up something darker and more personal. Could it be that certain comments ignite a control idol you thought was buried?
The "unfollow me" mentality reveals we do not trust a key truth of the gospel: God has placed us in the world for a reason. "Unfollow me" is just a white flag saying we're tired of engaging a complicated world—I'd rather abandon you than influence a life. But it also stunts our own growth. God uses those who disagree with us, those who know things that we don't, to teach us and help us grow.
God's approval of us in our weakness and imperfection through Jesus' death and resurrection is better than our self-generated perfect world. Our digital kingdoms promote stagnation; the gospel ignites transformation—in us and in others.
A Better Way
Earlier this year, several inflamed tweets and blog posts appeared about Douglas Wilson's new book, Black and Tan. Rather than skirting the issue and feeding gossip, Wilson invited some strong dissident voices to visit him "on [Wilson's] dime, in order to have that conversation. We can have it in public or private, and it will be a conversation, not a brawl." Pastor Thabiti Anyabwile took him up on his offer by beginning a conversation through well-thought, long-form blog posts. Even while disagreeing, both men displayed respect and Christian charity to each other.
A similar exchange between Wilson and renowned atheist journalist Christopher Hitchens culminated in the 2009 film, Collision. The two men met several times, taking their online disagreements into in-person conversations, and the result is an absorbing documentary. The director wrote of the debaters' strong friendship: "These guys ended up at the bar laughing, joking, drinking. They agreed on so many things—except on the existence of God."
These examples show ways to engage others in a respectable, honoring, public way, rather than severing the relationship. Wilson didn't cross his arms and refuse to engage detractors. Neither did he back down on his positions. And the public benefited from watching these conversations happen.
Social (Media) Gospel
Maybe we'll never make a movie about our conflicts. But whomever we engage, in person or online, Jesus' command is the same: "love one another." His revolutionary charge remains constant: "love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, … and pray for those who persecute you." The temptation is to take an "unfollow me" approach to ministry, from the pulpit or on Twitter, and ignore these commands.
There's a time and a place to end a discussion, online or in person: if it's leading nowhere and damaging a relationship, if the venue isn't appropriate for the conversation, or if you feel prolonged engagement is not glorifying God. But this is different from an "unfollow me" attitude based in pride, comfort, or self-gratification.
Disagree with what I've said? That's fine. Let's thoughtfully discuss it by email. Or better yet, let's talk in person. But whatever you do, don't unfollow me. And I won't unfollow you.
—Ben Connelly is co-pastor of The City Church in Fort Worth, Texas.
Copyright © 2013 by the author or Christianity Today/Leadership Journal. Click here for reprint information on Leadership Journal.
