Quite a while back, I asked myself some pretty serious questions here on this blog. I've been trying to formulate a coherent answer since then. I thought the Pope had done a better job than I ever could when I read this, but I realized that in his caveats, there was still a lot to be discerned on the personal level.
Then lately, I have had innumerable discussions with thoughtful friends, who have been trying to tackle the same topic themselves. It seems that for those seeking an authentic prayer life and constant spiritual growth, sincere relationships with like-minded Catholics, and a valid understanding of the new norms of communication in our society, this is a never-ending puzzle--a matter of personal spiritual discernment to be visited again and again by each individual, like many of the prudential decisions of our faith. You know, it strikes me that so many people have a tendency to see devout Catholics as just blindly following the lead of the Church who makes all decisions for us. If they knew the true weight of the prudential decisions with which the Catholic faithful are entrusted, they would surely think differently. I often wish someone would just come along and give me a hard and fast rule to follow. But the time spent in prayer, the seeking of spiritual counsel, the hashing out of spiritual ideas within the marital relationship and with like-minded friends are exactly the point of these decisions left in our hands. They focus us inward, on our ultimate purpose, the relationship we have with our Creator, and our call to serve him in this life and be with Him in the next. They turn what for many is simply life in today's world into matters with eternal weight, decisions that effect our journey on the path to Heaven. I think no matter of prudential decision, no matter how small it may seem, can be taken lightly, nor can we, in our process of discernment, articulate our findings as the universal answer for all. These matters are intensely personal, and deserve much pondering. What we hear in our hearts today may not be where the Spirit leads next month, when life's circumstances change, the seasons change, the spiritual consequences change. How humbling to have taken one stance so assuredly only to find ourselves being pulled in a different direction such a short while later.
For me, the spiritual matters highlighted by "life" in cyberspace are at the heart of my temperment, my efforts to overcome my predominant faults, and my hope of growing in virtue. The internet did not cause any of these things, but it is an area of my life where I can see their effects clearly and where the Lord can begin to tug at my heart, letting me know He has something to say. I am, by nature, an extreme extrovert. On every scale of personality or temperment I have ever taken, I fall there. I like conversation. I like company. Noise soothes me. I grew up in a home where my four older siblings had reached their teen years by the time I began grade school. Our house was the hub of their adolescent social circle. My parents loved company as much as their kids did, and rare was the day that we did not have visitors or visit someone else. In school, I involved myself in as much activity as I could possibly take on at all times, and truly enjoyed every bit of it. I spent my college and young adult years in the near-constant company of my peers, and never once felt the need to withdraw for time alone. In the early years of our marriage, I taught high school and moderated the cheerleading squad, and still found the few evening hours in our little nest eerily quiet. It surprised me that day after day, our phone did not ring, no one showed up at our door.
When I moved into my early mommy years, I filled my days with time spent with my sister and sister-in-law who were nearby and home with little ones too. I ran to visit friends here and there, joined play groups, went to library story time, and park time, and McDonald's...and anywhere else there was company.
All of this to say, a desire for silence, a contemplative spirit, are not natural to me. They are not attitudes I would cultivate of my own accord. But the more recent years of my life have taught me their great value and intensely increased my spiritual need for them. First of all, I am married to a man who is contemplative by nature. Had he not been called to married life, he would have been well-suited to monastic life. He seeks moments in his days to withdraw from human company, to find solititude and quiet for prayer, thinking, and rest. These moments are for him true physical, emotional, spiritual needs, not preferences or desires. Life with him has taught me that all our energies were not intended for the outside world. That we were not made to give all we have in the area of attention, conversation, and service to others. That we were uniquely created to share the firstfruits of those energies with our God. And that our primary energies after that should be devoted to the cultivation of holiness within the context of our vocation. Whatever if left after that should be given to others with care that the good works we embark upon are those that are good not only for those we serve, but also for our own spiritual growth.
The time we spent in mission taught me the most about myself and my dependence on God for spiritual growth than any other period of my life. The humbling task of finding oneself constantly out of your comfort zone and your life perpetually on display reveals a lot about where your strengths and faults lie and about how little we as humans are capable of without grace. I have never been more lonely in my life than I was in mission. I had my husband, my children, and a never-ending flow of visitors to my door. I had the love and support of my friends and family back home and the spiritual companionship of our fellow missionaries. Yet my desire for conversation, for the cordial joys of friendship and comraderie, was nearly insatiable. I could not settle my spirit on my own. I quickly began to realize how undisciplined my spirit was in the area of quiet, silence, contemplation. I saw how little energy I reserved for those I was called to serve in my own home. I had never seen this as a detriment before, it was just who I was. Suddenly, I realized what a spiritual baby I was, and how incapable I was of growing up on my own--how much I needed the guiding hand of my Heavenly Father to mature, to look seriously at my soul and to earnestly take on my faults and strive for constant growth. At the same time, the constant company of mission life and the energy required just to keep my families' basic needs met led me, for the first time on my life, to desire quiet, to feel a deep need for solitude, to care to guard to my energies and the quiet moments of life in our little domestic church.
Since we have returned from mission, we have doubled our family size. As we near the birth of this wee one, we will have welcomed three little ones in three and half years. I have three school-aged children whose education God has asked me to take charge of. We remain a ministry-focused family, with a commitment to evanglization and work in the Church. I no longer have the luxury of indulging the natural desires of my temperment for constant company and conversation. Time, energy, and coherent thoughts are precious commodities to be bought, spent, and traded with care and self-discipline. Outside chatter disrupts the management of my home, erodes my focus on rhythm and structure in my personal prayer life and in my children's formation, and takes away from the moments I could buy to focus my attention on my beloved and his needs.
On the other hand, the need for conversation, for thinking out loud, and for friendship are true needs for me. But I am blessed to have many like-minded friends who are more than willing to spend a few minutes or more on the phone hashing out the daily call to holiness in our lives as wives and homeschooling mothers. I have friends who are willing to sit over coffee, look me in the eye and tell me I'm falling short spiritually, lacking self-discipline and to lay out a new challenge for the week ahead. And I have family who stays in touch regularly. What does not come quite as easily is time throughout the day for prayer, meditation, and spiritual reading, time in the week to visit the Blessed Sacrament or attend daily Mass. Time to go the extra mile in worthwhile service outside our home. These, however, are not extras for us. They are not just another set of items on the to-do list to be carried over endlessly from day to day. These are our spiritual oxygen, the very life of our souls. It is these things that will get us to heaven more suredly than any conversation with a friend, regardless of how deep.
And that is where I have to look closely at my involvement in this "cyberworld". Has it helped me to cultivate friendships I would not have otherwise known? Yes. Does it provide worthwhile inspiration for my life's work as a homemaker and homeschooler? Yes. Is it a fun way to peek into the lives of my family members and distant friends and reconnect? Yes. And, most worthwhile of all, does it give me a place to share special talents and gifts, to proclaim the joy and Good News of a Catholic family life? Yes. Yes. Yes. I love this little mountaintop that is available to me so conveniently as a means to proclaim all that the Lord has done for us.
But there is another side to that equation. One that is unique to each person's spiritual life. For me, it is this. Can the seeking after of idle chatter distract from purposeful activity in my day? Yes. Can idle curiosity lead and the constant overflow of information about other people's lives lead me to the diseases of comparison, judgementalism and gossip? Yes. Can the gluttonness pursuit of constant conversation with distant friends drain me of time and energy that could be spent on prayer or loving service to my spouse and children? Yes. If I added up all the time I spent on facebook, message boards, and google reader, would there be the equivalent of a holy hour and extra mass each week? Yes. When prayer is distracted, stitled or does not come easily, does the computer begin to beckon my attention instead? Is there a temptation to say "what's the use" and succumb to "sit and click syndrome"? Yes. In addition, there is a temptation to short-change the truly worthwhile exchange of ideas in well-thought, articulate writing for short "tweets" and status updates that do not provide the same opportunity to really share the Good News that a fully thought-out blog post can. So when there is the time for this worthwhile medium, is there yet another temptation to shortchange its best uses for its easier uses? Yes. Those are the questions I must be ever-mindful of, that I must constantly take to prayer, spiritual direction, and seek accountability in. These are the choices I must weigh in light of my personal growth in virtue and discipline in spirit. They are likely different from the questions other might ask themselves, depending upon their temperment, spiritual journey, and season in life.
That, my friends, is why I am reluctant to answer my original post at all. There is no one answer that suits the spiritual needs of each person in every season. The truth is, we are all left to approach this world in our own process of prudential discernment. But the depth of that truth is that we must all do so soberly and attentively, with constant caution and watchfulness. For our enemy is ever on the prowl and our flesh ever beckons us. There are, however, a few truths that I think we must all recognize. While the medium in itself is not the problem, this particular medium poses more spiritual threat and asks more caution of us than any we have previously encountered. We would be disingenious to claim otherwise. And while there is always good to be gleaned from the constant availability of information and conversation, it is not always a universal good to be unequivocally promoted. The Christian life demands more from us. It demands that we filter what is good through the lens of prayer and choose only the choicest portions...those the provide the best spiritual nutrition for our souls. There is no way for each of us to imbibe all that is good in this ever-expanding cyberworld without being overcome by some temptation or another. The banquet is endless and our fleshly appetite insatiable. We are left to choose, and to choose wisely. And then to focus our minds, hearts, and energies on pursuing spiritual excellence in what we are left to undertake. To turn eyes not outward on the choices of others, but inward, to the state of our souls and the presence of the Savior there.