An e-mail about yet another online Lenten retreat caught my eye.
Hosted by a well-known Catholic priest whose writing and speaking I enjoy, I knew it would be a good event. Not only that, but it was free! The computer cursor hovered over the registration link as I thought about how incredible this opportunity was. Yet, before I clicked that button, I paused. The thought hit me, unbidden: I didn't actually want to participate in this online event. As great as it was, why would I carve out time to sit in front of a laptop when I was about to attend a daylong retreat with other people in my local area?
We all know the value of in-person interactions. As many of us experienced in 2020, we know, in the deepest part of our being, that watching someone on a screen, online, is not the same as being physically with that person. How many times have we participated in a video call with a loved one and desperately wished that we could reach through the screen and share a hug?
We also know that internet technology provides amazing ways for us to connect with others. It provides a path for us to meet a variety of people and learn from them. It offers resources for enrichment and growth, especially if we live in an area with few of the resources that we desire. For example, if we live in a place where Catholics are few and retreats are unheard of--or if we are homebound--then an online retreat is a tremendous blessing.
Being able to access countless resources and information online is a great gift, and I'm grateful for the ways in which the internet has helped me find tools to grow as a daughter of God, as a writer, and as a homemaker. From nalbinding tutorials to recipe websites to Church documents, the internet has aided my lifelong learning.
However, it’s become so easy to live and pray and grow online that we struggle to live offline.