Losing face

I've never been terribly good at the Christian Church's tradition of giving things up for Lent. To begin with, I have no willpower. Lent is, as I understand it, a time to deny one's self of a pleasure. It reminds us of Jesus' 40 days of temptation in the desert, as well as a way of preparation for the joy of Easter through denying ourselves certain pleasures. Well, self-denial has never been something I've excelled at, so there's that.

So, with the thought that most people actually do give up things that they enjoy, the fact that I swore off using Facebook for Lent yesterday is probably not at all in the spirit of the occasion. I initially created my Facebook account several years ago in order to see some photos posted from an overseas family member. Since then, it has served a valuable function by allowing me to contact friends that I would have never have otherwise been able to, and to get a better sense of the day-to-day activities of my far-flung family — both good things.

Lately, though, Facebook has become a tiresome exercise in the worst that the Internet has to offer. Every time I check Facebook, I am subjected to a daily dose of political vitriol from both sides of the political spectrum. Like anyone, this is tolerable enough when it happens to line up with my own views, but infuriating and anger-producing when it does not. Since one of the things I am trying to tame is my temper, a period of abstinence from the thing provoking the anger seems the wiser course.

I want to like Facebook — I really do. I want to know more about what my family is doing, and have even been tempted to do more frequent posting of my own comings and goings. But actually getting to the content that matters to me is increasingly becoming too much work, being, as it is, lost amid the political broadsides and humorous placards from well-meaning friends and family. For example, some vital news about one of my nephews was buried yesterday amid so many such posts that I would never have known about it if my wife hadn't seen it and told me.

I know my abstinence comes at a cost — by ignoring Facebook entirely, I'm throwing the baby out with the bathwater. Things that I might have seen from family are now, effectively, lost to me unless I see an email or blog post from them. And that alone tempts me to resume using Facebook come Easter Sunday. But if I do, we're going to have to put some ground rules in place.