Delete That: (and Other Failed Attempts to Look Good Online)

by John Crist

I mean, let’s look online for five seconds: We claim to be the salad-eating, CrossFitting, charity-giving, small-business-supporting, keto-dieting, indie-band-(before-they-were-famous)-listening, meal-prepping, family-prioritizing, church-attending, Habitat for Humanity–volunteering, no-filter-using, TOMS-wearing, whale-saving, corporate-America-shunning, juice-cleansing, purpose-driven, inclusive, equality-supporting, free-range, fair-trade, environmentally sustainable, gourmet-coffee-sipping group of people.

But in reality, we’re also the McDonald’s-eating, couch-sitting, tabloid-reading, Walmart-shopping, Top 40–listening, lotto-ticket-buying, beer-drinking, meme-scrolling, Bachelorette-bingeing, Kardashian-obsessed, Tinder-swiping, double-chin-having, time-wasting, prejudiced, SUV-driving, mob-tweeting, DM-sliding, bikini-photo-liking, late-night-Postmates-ordering, Pornhub-surfing, TMZ-loving, too-lazy-to-recycle group of people.

It was almost a primitive, involuntary reflex: See people. Make them laugh.

I was texting and driving, because, well, of course I was.

“To be loved but not known is comforting but superficial. To be known and not loved is our greatest fear. But to have both? That’s perfection.”

media. In fact, there’s almost nothing more common on social media than people complaining about social media.

It’s really bizarre when you think about it: Our self-worth is completely wrapped up in the approval of others, most of whom are virtual, if not actual, strangers to us.

Everyone’s biggest fear is that something they were doing in private is now going to be public.

Your Netflix queue is almost like a postmodern version of a bookshelf.

But there’s a small part of me that wishes we could all just accept the truth about who we really are: people who pee in pools.

“If you want to tell people the truth, make them laugh. Otherwise they’ll kill you.”

The truth is, we each may be the biggest star of the movie playing in our own head, but in everyone else’s head, we’re just extras.

I know I voted, so I don’t really need the sticker as a reminder of what happened in my life forty-five seconds earlier.

I mean, we definitely want our elections decided by people who are convinced to vote by seeing a stranger wearing a sticker on their shirt. That’s democracy at work!

It’s not like you just marched across the bridge in Selma or stormed the beaches in Normandy. The people who did that can get a sticker. But for voting? Maybe just do it and get on with the rest of your day, okay?

Millions of Christians across the globe are being persecuted and killed because of their faith in Jesus, but American Christians are so concerned with how others are perceiving them that they need a little pat on the back, me included.

I mean, I’ve been on a lot of mission trips. It seems that every person who goes on one has the same goal: to get photos with minority kids to post on social media. Oh, and also to do the Lord’s work.

So why do we continually follow people instead of following God? Why do we expect humans to be anything but, well, human?

“I bet if Jesus saw you there, he’d sit down right next to you. He’d say something like, ‘You think I don’t know what it feels like to be alone? All my closest friends left me to get crucified. I know loneliness. You think I don’t know what it feels like to be sad? My friend Lazarus died. I know sadness. I am here with you.’

Maybe this is what church was always supposed to be. It’s not a gala reception for life’s big winners. It’s for the broken, the sick.

If you want to stay out here in Arizona, drink yourself to death, and fade away, that’s fine. I still love you. But I’ll tell you what: If you want to go back out and try to make it work, I’ll go with you. It’s going to be tough. You’ll need to have a lot of uncomfortable conversations. You’ll have to make a lot of amends. Some relationships may not be repairable. Some people won’t want to hear from you. You’re going to screw up again and again. And in the end, it may not work out the way you want. But if you want to try, I’ll come with you.”

Look, eating at Chick-fil-A isn’t a problem. Cooking for your friends isn’t a problem. Test-driving a car isn’t a problem. But for each of us, the way we did these things were definite problems.

We were all looking to conjure up some new source of worth, of affirmation, a way to receive love. You don’t need to be an addict to get that. Everyone has something they do to make them feel valued and loved.

In a place like that, I could really see what laughter meant to people.