After Cory Asbury apologised for posting a shirtless gym photo, John Reynolds reflects on the impossibility of pleasing people online. Christian correction has its place, he says, but social media has made us too quick to mistake our offence for someone else’s sin
Recently, worship leader and musician Cory Asbury caused controversy by posting a shirtless gym photo of himself, Forrest Frank and a third man that no one seems too bothered by as he isn’t as famous.
The picture showed the three men flexing in the gym, showing off their physiques. In his apology, Asbury claimed it was shared with a pure heart as part of a post recapping their tour and wasn’t done with the intention of causing anyone to “stumble”.
Like many people, I didn’t see the original photo itself, although I have since looked it up. Incredibly, it took a while to find one that hadn’t been censored by Christian media with a blurred strip across their chests – which definitely makes it seem a lot worse. Now, rather than them merely committing the cardinal sin of showing their torsos, the censored pictures give the impression that they’ve each written a giant letter on their body to spell out a swear word or recently got matching x-rated tattoos.
I only became aware of the photo’s existence when I saw the apology video that went viral. I’m sure virality wasn’t Cory’s purpose for posting it, but as a social media content creator myself, don’t think I haven’t banked that shrewd view-boosting tactic. And you can expect to see an apology video from me sometime soon for my recent holiday beach pics that far fewer people cared about.
Damned if you do, damned if you don’t
The opinions online were varied – I know, who would have thought?
I saw a comment from one person who was glad he deleted it and pleased he apologised. Right above that one, another thought the photo was a positive example for young boys to exercise, should never have been deleted and wondered what had happened to make people so easily offended.
There’s a difference between making someone uncomfortable and encouraging them to violate their conscience.
Herein lies the problem. As a public figure, you are damned if you do and damned if you don’t – especially on social media. We have never had more opinions delivered directly into the palms of our hands. But more voices doesn’t necessarily mean more wisdom. Often, the only expertise some people have is in being professionally offended.
My worry is that we as Christians are sometimes among the most guilty of this. But this needs to change because the Bible frequently tells us to be slow to anger, slow to speak (James 1:19) and, at times, to be willing to overlook an offence (Proverbs 19:11).
Obviously I’m not saying we can never be offended. There are things that absolutely should offend us. But I do think we need to stop assuming that our feeling offended is akin to God commissioning us with our own special little assignment.
You’re not as influential as you think
Much of the Bible’s wisdom about correction, forgiveness and reconciliation assumes an actual relationship, not a shallow social media following. People who know each other and, perhaps just as importantly, people who have to live with one another after the argument is over.
It’s why I rarely listen when strangers criticise me online, but when one of my friends challenges me, I sit up and listen. My mates know my heart and want the best for me, and I recognise that if they’re willing to endure the temporary relational disharmony that comes with challenging someone you love – it must be important.
A stranger online has none of that. And if you’re convinced that you have influence and that your comment might be the one that finally convinces a stranger to change their mind, consider this: do you know who has more influence than you? Cory Asbury. He has hundreds of thousands of followers, and yet I doubt “gymgate” changed that many people’s minds. Those who thought the photo was fine still do, and those who didn’t still don’t. Those who wanted an apology are glad they got one, and those who thought it was unnecessary still do.
We tend to massively overestimate our ability to change the minds of strangers online, while simultaneously underestimating the influence we have on the people who actually know and trust us.
The right to correct
I’m also not saying Christian creators get a free pass to say or do anything so long as they don’t upset their mates. Of course I want to be a good witness to others and someone who encourages people towards Jesus because of my Christ-likeness.
What I’m saying is it’s actually possible for me to try my best not to offend my friends. There are only about five of them, and one of those is my wife. But going out of my way not to offend people online? Literally impossible. I wouldn’t be able to post anything at all! (And even not posting would most likely offend some of my biggest fans/stalkers!)
This is why I think we need to be careful how we apply passages like 1 Corinthians 8 that talk of “not causing others to stumble”, which Cory alludes to in his apology video. Paul certainly tells us to take responsibility for how our actions affect other people, but “causing someone to stumble” means more than simply upsetting them.
His concern in this passage about eating food sacrificed to idols, is that someone might see another Christian exercising their freedom (to eat) and copy them, even though their own conscience tells them that what they’re doing is wrong.
In other words, there’s a difference between making someone uncomfortable and encouraging them to violate their conscience.
That feels particularly important online. Christian freedom doesn’t mean we shouldn’t care how our actions affect people, but neither does it mean we must surrender to whoever happens to be the most offended. Sometimes the answer to a troubled conscience is not for everyone else to change their behaviour, but for us to patiently help one another understand why something is – or isn’t – actually wrong.
The internet has given us access to more people’s lives than ever before, but access isn’t the same as relationship. Seeing someone’s post doesn’t automatically make their behaviour our responsibility, and disagreeing with them doesn’t automatically make correcting them our calling.
I think we need to be slower to speak, slower to get angry and slower to assume that every feeling of offence is the Holy Spirit prompting us to type a 3,000-word essay in the comments of someone we barely know, who also doesn’t know us at all.
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