Facebook Resistance

 

 ... sweet peas, a gift from my sister, Moiya ...

Facebook has its detractors.  

I don’t dislike Facebook.  

I just don’t find going out there satisfying.  

That is, until I find out that Rebecca posts out there regularly.  

And Catherine posts out there regularly.  

And I want to know what they are doing; as well I do not want them to have the burden of sending me another email when they have already made some public declaration or other: “ the sunset is exquisite tonight”, “here is a picture of us picking up Catie from the airport”; “look at the beauty of the public park that these volunteers have been working on”. I want to see all of these pictures.

In my religious congregation, and new, during Covid times, the Bishop set up a Facebook page.  I could feel my initial resistance to Facebook again; but I reasoned myself into joining for all the same  old reasons:  I want to know what is going on; I don’t want to burden someone with telling me something I can go find out myself. 

I think there is a bigger reason for me joining my ward Facebook page.  If I project and try to think of when I might get back to church, my most conservative answer is, maybe never.  The pandemic may last longer than I have years to live, 5? 7? 10?  As the virus mutates no one knows what is going to happen.  When I am optimistic the answer is I will be back to church, maybe in one year, perhaps the fall of next year,  but that would be my best guess.  I am in the cohort who should wait until I hear “all’s clear” before I attend again. 

Perhaps I will never be able to go back.  So how am I going to experience religious community, I reason, unless I go to Facebook.  And I have added an extra step for me.  If I want to get community, I should think about how I am going to give it.  

How to do this electronically is one of the questions that circulates in my mind in the early morning hours of the days.  Like now.

For fun I have imaged I am a ward Facebook missionary.  “We have a nice spot out there?  Why don’t you join?” or “I know you hate Facebook, but this is a nice substitute for going to church, if you used to like that.”  I have taken severe rebuffs, since I took the initial chance to ask again, but I have asked for those punches.  

I invited a relative whom I know hates Facebook.  They said, “Maybe it is good for you, but not for me.”  When someone stands in their truth, I have to take off my missionary badge.  

They are right.  Not for them.  

But yes, it is good for me.

Arta