March 3, 2015

Tearing Down the Church, One Tweet at a Time

Can Twitter reflect the health of our Church?

It may not be a far-fetched idea. NPR ran a story a few days ago about research that indicates a strong correlation between the number of angry tweets and the incidence of heart disease in a community. Incredibly the prevalence of angry tweets was a stronger indicator of heart disease than smoking or obesity.

Researchers don’t know the relationship yet. But it’s a striking observation. It got me to thinking: I wonder if the same correlation might exist in our (capital C) Church—and churches.

Twitter and other social media tools offer a quick, easy, and relatively anonymous outlet for frustrations or anger. The things you used to mutter under your breath? In 140-characters or less, you can send them out to the world. Venting done. Instead of kvetching person-to-person, folks do it online, inviting others to get on the moan-and-grown bandwagon. Misery loves company.

I’m certainly not innocent of occasional snark, online and in-person. I’ve complained on Facebook and perhaps even used this blog to air grievances. But the study cited by NPR gives me pause. What if our snarky side comments, our complaints, and frustrations contribute to failing health? Maybe they’re symptoms of an ill system but perhaps they’re also perpetuating it.

Perhaps we should pause before we tweet, asking the question: Will this build up the Body of Christ? And if the answer is no, then don’t tweet. Write it in your private journal or in the sand. Just not in a place where thousands of people will read (and share) your words that tear down the Church.

I want to be clear: We need to have debate in our churches and across our Church. We need to tackle tough questions about injustice, about structure, about what God is calling us to in our lives and communities. But there’s a way to do have these discussions that reflect grace and love. We might heed the words of the old hymn, “They’ll know we are Christians by our love.” And our tweets.