My remarks from “Across Web Time, Cyberspace, and Blogging Disciplines,” a panel discussion moderated by Mormon Times columnist Emily Jensen at BYU’s Mormon Media Studies Symposium yesterday. Great to see those of you who attended!
It may seem suspect to draw a connection between blogging and Zion. Blogging is often maligned–and sometimes rightfully so–as navel gazing, and in Mormon culture those bare midriffs can seem awfully immodest. To be sure, self-absorption is the antithesis of the Zion we seek as a people. But while Mormon bloggers have their fair share of narcissism, I believe most are motivated by a worthy desire to understand and be understood. And I believe such understanding is a powerful catalyst for building Zion, that longed-for state of spiritual unity where the saints are of one heart and one mind, and have no poor among them.
In my five years of blogging I’ve seen an abundance of meaningful connections forged between fellow saints that would be unlikely or impossible in other contexts, given the geographical limitations, cultural baggage, and social restraints that separate Church members from each other. These valuable connections frequently surface in forthright conversations about the bittersweet lot of being Mormon and being human. On the blogs I’ve seen empathy shared on the most tender of topics, from eating disorders to pornography addiction to crises of identity and faith. Disclosure of personal struggles has traditionally been lacking in Mormon culture, and many among us prefer it that way, yet there is a direct relationship between our level of candor and our level of caring. Of course we must guard against gratuitous emotional exhibitionism, but before we can carry one another’s burdens, we must first share them. As my friend and fellow blogger Tresa Edmunds says, “The first step toward becoming a Zion people is being honest.”
I’m not suggesting that the blogosphere is some kind of Mormon utopia. I’ve made more friends than enemies as a blogger (I think), but the diversity of perspectives online inevitably yields conflict, and that same anonymity which opens space for beneficial sharing also opens space for stark confrontation. When it comes to matters of religious orthodoxy, our behavior on the blogs often mirrors our behavior on the freeways, where we’re tempted to yell at those who drive slower or faster than our own singularly appropriate speed. Even on blogs well-suited to my comfort zones, I find my maturity and goodwill tested on a regular basis—and those are tests I often fail. But the challenges of blogging with charity, or at least with basic human decency, are what make it a valuable tool for spiritual refinement. For me, one reward of blogging is an expanded mind from butting heads with people I’d like to write off as just plain stupid, but who (I begrudgingly admit) actually have a point. Another is an expanded heart from realizing the legitimacy of differing points of view and the basic human respect deserved by all individuals, including that one woman who called me apostate (and that other woman I called apostate). It’s humbling to face opponents on the blogs–and that’s why opponents can be the greatest allies for fallen mortals who desire to be saints.
I could tell myriad stories about how blogging has enriched my life, strengthened my faith, and made me glad to be Mormon, but in the interest of time I’ll share just one. Earlier this year on a popular group blog I moderated a series of posts about Mormons living with clinical depression. In a roundtable discussion posted in several segments, eight bloggers (including myself) shared elements of their personal struggle with mental illness, hoping to offer companionship to fellow sufferers and perspective to other readers. For many participants the ensuing discussions were life-changing—and for a few, perhaps even life-saving. One woman, a former Latter-day Saint, left an unforgettable comment that said, in part:
Thank you to you brave souls who have spoken straight. I have never said anything like this before and I’m frankly afraid to say it, but I felt genuine love for those of you who went through the dark, lonely “hour” that I did. And more than that, you have the integrity to admit it. This post today changed something in me.
Likewise, her comment changed something in me, and convinced me that blogging, while sometimes a frivolous pursuit, can also be a sacred one.
To conclude, I remind us all that the curse of mortality is separation from God, from our true selves, and from each other, and as a result each of us suffer from poverty of heart and spirit. At the same time, our collective wealth of experience and knowledge and compassion as a people is enormous, and the world wide web provides unprecedented means of distributing this wealth. In spite of and because of its challenges, blogging can increase our jointly owned riches of spiritual unity as Latter-day Saints. A virtual church community cannot replace one in real time and space, but it can fortify and hasten our mutual journey toward that Zion where we shall be of one heart and one mind, with no poor among us.
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