Your Rants Aren't Changing Anyone
When I was younger, as a newly initiated minister in Phoenix, Arizona, I was part of a group that literally went knocking on doors in some of the poorest and roughest neighborhoods in the city, offering food and clothes, and with the intent to preach the gospel, face-to-face. It was our conviction and hope at the time that sharing about Jesus might save people’s souls. I remember the trauma of it—sitting in my car, hyperventilating in preparation, walking with a feigned confidence but trembling on the inside, and naively asking people if they wanted to hear about Jesus. It was terrifying…
I’ve had people stand in
their windows waving us away, people telling me to f**k off, dogs chasing me,
men making passes at me, doors slammed in my face… of course, some people just
hid away in their houses, never opening the door to us at all. It helped that
we had food and clothes to offer, so, many times they would take the goods and
shut the door. People in these neighborhoods had seen enough evil to be
suspicious of newcomers’ motives.
Any time we moved to
a new neighborhood it took at least 6 months to a year before anyone would let
us really talk about Jesus. We learned to say nothing of it, only to let them know we
are from a local church. After a while they would ask us about ourselves, and
why we cared so much. Only then did we really have their ears. Maybe they would
accept Jesus, maybe not. To us it was worth it to reach even a few. And for
those who didn’t accept it, at least they saw our hearts and knew what we stood
for. At least in their lifetime they had seen people who represented the love
of Jesus.
Few people are willing to
listen to and accept what strangers have to say. In fact, even kindness can be seen as a show, or a manipulation. The only thing people trust is
consistency over time. And it’s trust which earns us influence.
If
the cost of earning a stranger’s trust is committing selfless acts of love and care
for them consistently over many months, or even years, how on earth do we expect to influence
the beliefs of casual acquaintances on a digital platform which collapses the
personal and relational aspects of conversation? And that price only guarantees they might listen; it doesn't guarantee they will change their mind. And yet these days, on social media everyone
is yelling at everyone about what they should think and believe.
I
am just as guilty of preaching on social media as the next person. For a time,
Facebook was my pulpit. And I do love a good heated debate (hit me up if your
ever in the mood). I’ve gotten myself in plenty of trouble with people in the past. But guess
what? Hardly anyone I argued with ever changed their mind. If anything, they clung
harder to their own ideas and spat back. You’d think I would have already
learned that given my experience going door-to-door, but I apparently have a
thick skull. It takes extreme humility to admit you actually don’t know what
you’re talking about, and when those we argue with are just faceless names—digital
constructs of people we don’t keep in touch with anymore—why exercise that
humility? It hurts too much to swallow our pride and costs us nothing to hold
on to it… or does it? (hint: it costs us our influence...)
Something we might not actively think about (but should) is that everything we say on our digital
platforms has the same effect as it would in person, we just don’t see those
consequences played out before our eyes. We don’t see the looks of disapproval, eye-rolls, or hear the sighs of frustration which might normally discourage us from saying more for
the sake of the relationship. No, we are blind to the effect we are having on the
people we care about. We often don’t know what relationships we’ve sabotaged with
our written carelessness. Some people will follow you and read your stuff without ever commenting or interacting with your posts. Everything
is laid bare. Nothing is hidden. People will read what you have to say and
either silently gain, maintain, or lose their respect for you. Not only that, if you
eventually change your mind, those words you spoke are still there waiting for
them to read it again later, when maybe you've changed your opinion… Maybe you've made peace with that. Or maybe
you’ve never considered it before now. I mention this for the sake of the
latter…
But I digress…
Most of the time in our little online debates, the goal isn't to learn something new; it's to win. Maybe you started out with the intention to learn, but the other person struck a low blow and got you flustered. Or maybe their superior understanding of the subject is intimidating so you want to make yourself sound smart. And once we realize we
cannot win, we feel our pulses quicken. I say this because I’m just as
hot-blooded as you. However, nobody cares about how much you know until they
know how much you care. I know, it’s a tired platitude, but I say this to remind you—and myself—that this is still as true as
ever.
It feels like everyone is constantly telling each other how to think and what to believe, expecting something to change. It’s not helping. It’s only creating stronger and more stubborn proponents of the opposing mind. Most people will briefly read what you have to say, make no effort to understand where you're coming from, most likely misunderstand what you mean, get overwhelmed or mad because it seems to oppose what they believe, and then go and find more voices which only confirm their current worldviews. The
only way to have real influence--to promote true reform--is within the context of relationship.
