If you have any doubts about humanity being a fallen race, just take a quick digital scroll through social media platforms like Facebook, X, or TikTok. A quick look at the comment section should give you all the proof you need to affirm the biblical doctrine of sin and depravity. When people hide behind a wall of anonymity, that anonymity frees them to take off the mask of decency they feel forced to wear in real life, revealing the seething, hateful beast that lurks just beneath the skin’s surface.
And we’re all guilty. I’m no better than anyone else. When I see someone post something insulting toward me or something I believe is true, my immediate reaction is to jump into the comments and fire off the most biting, sarcastic, witty comeback possible. In those moments, my goal isn’t to shine the light of truth into the darkness of that person’s soul or to correct faulty thinking. My goal is to completely and utterly humiliate them—to make them feel stupid and small, to crush their ego. You know, bring them down a peg or two. For their own good, of course.
In short, when I get into verbal fisticuffs with someone online, I want revenge. I try to convince myself that I’m after justice, not vengeance. After all, as a Catholic, I believe vengeance belongs to the Lord. I know that we will all give an account before King Jesus for our actions, including our sins. I know that God will vindicate me for the wrongs done against me, and that those who harmed me will either repent—allowing Jesus’ death on the Cross to pay for their offenses—or spend eternity in Hell.
But that’s then. What about now? Why should someone get to live a potentially long, happy life while harming others and spewing hateful, vile nonsense online under the cover of a digital secret identity? By this point, despite the argument raging in my head, I’ve already typed out a response and hit “Send.” And usually, right after I do, a line from the Our Father barges its way to the front of my mind.
“And forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.”
If we have experienced the immeasurable grace and mercy of Christ for the endless list of sins we have committed against God—sins that offend Him in ways we can never fully grasp—who are we to withhold grace and mercy from those who wrong us? In fact, God cannot forgive us if we refuse to forgive those who sin against us. Forgiving our enemies and willing their good is not optional in the Christian life. It’s a command.
St. Stephen, the first Christian martyr, gives us a prime example of what it looks like to truly love your enemies. The book of Acts introduces us to Stephen. He boldly proclaimed the Gospel of Christ to large crowds of people. In the book of Acts, Stephen boldly proclaimed the Gospel before the Sanhedrin, confronting Israel’s religious leaders with their rejection of God’s prophets and their role in handing Jesus over to be killed.
Needless to say, St. Stephen’s impassioned plea for repentance and faith in Christ did not sit well with them. They dragged him outside Jerusalem and stoned him to death. As they carried out this heinous act, something miraculous happened. The very man they were killing began to pray for them, asking Jesus to forgive them for murdering him. I cannot imagine looking into the eyes of someone trying to kill me—someone stripping away the precious gift of life, erasing any chance of seeing the people I love again—and feeling such overwhelming mercy and compassion that I beg God to save their soul.
I wish I possessed that level of faith, but I don’t. Just a little brutal self-honesty. I want to be like St. Stephen, like Jesus, who also prayed for His enemies, but I’m nowhere near that point yet. By the power of the Holy Spirit, I may reach that level of faith someday. I hope so.
Someone calling you a name on social media might sting a little, but it doesn’t even come close to someone taking your life. If St. Stephen could pray for his killers and forgive them—offering mercy and grace in the face of death—surely we can do the same for those who mock us online. Again, this isn’t a suggestion. It’s a command. By the authority of the King of the Universe, you are called to forgive and love your enemies.
It might feel good to rip someone to shreds for what they say about you. And since you remain anonymous online and will likely never encounter this person in real life, you may feel safe letting the darkness have its fun for a while. But God sees what you are doing. He sees how you treat others. He knows the impact your words have on the person on the other side of the screen. And you will give an account to Him for everything you say, whether spoken or written.
We must do better. We must pray for those who persecute us. We must will the good of the other, which is the true definition of love. Pause before firing off that comment. Ask yourself whether you’re acting like St. Stephen—or whether you’re about to say something cruel just to protect your pride. God holds us accountable for every action we take, including the ones we make on the internet.
