I do have a Facebook page but I’m not very good “at Facebook.” I long ago grew weary of the insignificant posts. Knowing that someone is at the gym or looking for Waldo or whatever isn’t my idea of keeping up with folks. That’s the double-edge of technology in action: the very thing that makes a capacity so convenient makes it also prone to trivialization. And so it was that by avoiding the page after page of feeds about minutia, I missed a post that was far more significant.

Nearly thirty years ago, I’d officiated a wedding for a couple of teenagers in our congregation in South Fulton, Tennessee. It was a small affair, a private ceremony in the bride’s parents’ house. Just recently, I’d gotten back in touch with Berry and Kim via Facebook. But, due to my aforementioned negligence, I’d missed her posting of the tragedy they’d experienced when their eighteen-year-old son was killed in a car wreck not quite two weeks ago.

Knowing that I would have responded at least a week earlier if I had known, Kim sent me an email. Within an hour, I was on the phone with her, expressing my sorrow for their loss and pain.

Needless to say, I was very grateful for Kim’s follow-up. It was clear that she and Berry wanted me to know and knew that I would care.

I have to acknowledge that there must be some level of self-interest and convenience operating in seeking to justify my lack of vigilance in monitoring the postings on Facebook. But when we put trivia and tragedy at the same level in our communication, we demean ourselves and our relationships.

Do you think the same sort of thing could happen in our prayer patterns?

H. Arnett

1/27/11