In March of 2018 I had the great honor of representing the United States at the pre-synod gathering of youth and young adults in Rome. Charged with explaining what youth are experiencing in (and out) of the Catholic Church today, I went to the eternal city excited to participate in what I deeply believed would be a pivotal moment in the Church, helping prepare for the upcoming Synod that Fall.
The Synod in October of 2018 was eventually followed by Christus Vivit, one of Pope Francis’ premiere documents that explain the need to accompany young people, listen to their struggles, and offer them the hope of Jesus as an answer to their serious questions.
So just like any good millennial, I documented the pre-synod gathering on social media. Tweets with commentary, photos on Instagram, a recounting of conversations I had with my fellow participants on Facebook. I’d post my thoughts about the day before I went to bed each night, so the folks back home in the United States would see what I’d shared as they woke up each morning.
On one particular day, after sharing some insights from my Chinese roommate about the struggle of Catholics in her home country and the need for prayers as they were persecuted, an old acquaintance from college, someone I hadn’t kept in touch with, commented on my Facebook post, asking me to please ensure that the synod on young people didn’t result in a “watering down” of Catholic teaching.
I was a bit confused. My post had been about the persecution of the Church in China, and the need for prayer, and someone I barely knew was commenting about the faith being watered down.
A small schism
I fired back a response to his random comment and went about my day in Rome, only to come back to the Facebook post a few hours later to see a debate had erupted in the comment section. A few dozen folks were arguing about whether or not Pope Francis, and the Synod on Young People, was just a chance for Church teaching to be covertly changed. Claims were made that this gathering was all a dog and pony show to distract people from the malicious intent of the Holy Father and the Roman Curia. Some accused those of us participating in the pre-synod of being harbingers of heresy, and perhaps saddest of all, an old friend of mine claimed that she no longer believed Pope Francis was the Pope.
Right there, in a comment box on Facebook, a small schism unfolded.
It was my first real taste of the patently terrible way we Catholics sometimes discuss things online, and it clued me in to the reality that most people just simply don’t have decent reading comprehension skills.
The original comment I’d made had nothing to do with the conclusions the Synod would eventually draw, nor did it share any insights into what was being discussed in formal sessions. It’d been a post asking for prayers. But, someone with an agenda, and someone looking to pick a fight, decided they had something to say, so they said it.
This happens all too often, especially in online Catholic circles, and with the upcoming Synod on synodality, I fear we’ll see it in spades in the coming weeks.
What then is there to do? Refuse to talk about the Synod? Refuse to express opinions, engage in substantive debate, or keep updated on the unfoldings of the gathering?
No. We can’t go live under a rock. It’d be just plain silly to refuse to engage in the going-ons of Rome. It impacts us all, in every corner of the Church.
But, perhaps we can actually talk to one another in person, rather than become keyboard warriors who fire off pithy comments entirely out of context.
Touch grass
A few weeks ago, after our usual Sunday morning Mass at our small parish, I started chatting with a parishioner who occasionally listens to my Sirius XM show. Sort of out of nowhere, she mentioned she went and read one of the articles I’d referenced on the show, and we got to chatting about the persecution of the Church in Nicaragua and the horrible treatment of Bishop Alvarez. Something online, that she heard about on the radio, became a point of in-person conversation, after we worshiped together that morning.
That is the most authentic way to express our thoughts as Catholics – to one another, in person, after spending time together praising our God.
This isn’t to say we can’t necessarily discuss things online, since that has become the de facto Roman forum of our time. But it is to say, if that’s the only time we ever talk about the going-ons of the Church, then we’re missing out on the beauty that can come from connecting, in person, with our brothers and sisters in Christ. And if the thought you have at this moment is, “I don’t quite know who I’d talk to in person about all this Synod on Synodality stuff?” then maybe that’s an even bigger indicator that you shouldn’t just hop online to muse about it there first.
The human person doesn’t need online commentary. We like it. We consume it. We produce it. But we don’t need it. We need it about as much as we need a punch in the nose.
But what we do need, and could certainly benefit from, is authentic, life-giving, fruitful encounters with our fellow believers. What we do need is to “touch grass” as they say, and actually recognize that the going-ons in a room in Rome, while perhaps fascinating, interesting, and maybe even pivotal in the years to come, are at this precise moment, far less important than the need we have to pray for the Church in China, or even just go to Mass on Sunday.
Katie Prejean McGrady is an author, speaker, and host of The Katie McGrady Show on Sirius XM’s The Catholic Channel and a regular contributor to La Croix International. She lives, works, and writes from Lake Charles, Louisiana.
