Dig Deeper into Sunday’s Gospel: Read John 1:29–34
After a glorious, peaceful three-year hiatus from social media, I prayerfully discerned that 2026 would be the year I return to Instagram.
And after 24 hours, I deeply regretted it.
Within minutes, I could already feel my brain rewiring and the temptation to scroll my one, precious life away. Focused prayer time, I noticed, required more effort. Remaining present became a challenge. And yet, after a serious conversation with my spiritual director, I have decided that deleting my Instagram account is not the answer; self-control and non-negotiable boundaries are, because a social media presence is not about accumulating followers of me, but of Christ. It’s not about shining a light on my life, but on the One who died to save it.
“And John bore witness” (John 1:32 RSVCE).
If ever four gospel words smacked me between the eyes, it would be these. In the moment when John the Baptist sees Jesus walking toward him, and after saying, “Behold, the Lamb of God, who takes away the sin of the world” (John 1:29), he proceeds to tell everyone who he isn’t, who God is, and more importantly, what he has seen. And at the risk of sounding like a lunatic, he goes on to describe how he saw the Spirit as a dove descend from heaven and rest upon Jesus, and God, who sent him to baptize with water, told him that whoever he sees the Spirit descend upon and remain, He will be the Son of God.
John saw it, and he bore witness to it.
So, back to Instagram. What I don’t enjoy about it is its addictive quality and all those self-obsessed posts that convince me that everybody is living a life far greater than mine. But as a creative who gets energized by a string of carefully crafted words or finds the goodness of God in a breathtaking photo of the ordinary, I have to admit, I am easily sucked in. When you combine these with the particular call on my heart to preach the Word in season and out of season (2 Timothy 4:2), to go into the world and preach to all creation (Mark 16:15), to not only hear what God says but to do it (James 1:22), and to let my light shine before others so that they may see my good deeds and glorify God (Matthew 5:16), suddenly, Instagram feels less like “a shop’s window display” and more like “a possible place of encounter.”[1]
Because here is the truth. I’m not a theologian or a Biblical scholar. I don’t have a master's degree in anything. I haven’t even read the Catechism of the Catholic Church cover to cover. But this is also the truth: I have seen the power of God at work in my life. I have seen Him reach down and pull me out of the pit of despair more times than I can count; when I thought my marriage wouldn’t survive, when I thought my kid wouldn’t survive, when I thought I might not survive. I have seen and felt His comfort in times of deep suffering. I have seen Him see me when I felt invisible. And I have seen Him use the broken pieces of my story to help others piece together their own. If this is what I have seen, shouldn’t I use every means available to me to show it to others?
Shouldn’t you?
Not everyone is called to a public platform, but we are all called to be witnesses. Whether it is to our coffee barista or the people around our kitchen table, we are all called to bear witness to the difference Christ has made in our lives and to share about the One who has called us out of darkness into His wonderful light (1 Peter 2:9). Unopened stories on a dusty bookshelf do not change lives. The opened, read, and spoken-out-loud stories do.
And yet, sharing our Catholic story in today's world comes with risks. We could lose people. And I don’t mean digital followers, I am talking about real-life people who share our family name. We can lose jobs. We can lose our good reputation. Look at John the Baptist—he lost his head! But here is something to keep in mind that I pray will soften that potential blow to your neck: witnessing to what you have seen is not the same as engaging in an emotionally charged debate. You aren’t disputing apologetics; you aren’t arguing about issues within the Catholic Church. You are honestly, calmly, and lovingly sharing your personal encounter with God: this is who I was before Christ, this is how I encountered Him, and this is who I am now. It’s that simple. You see, the way that you have seen the living God work in and through you is not up for debate, question, or criticism—it is your story, your lived experience, your testimony. And it is what makes you a powerful instrument of God’s grace.
It’s been barely a month since I returned to Instagram, and I’ll be honest—it will not last. I might even be gone by the time you read this! Because I have realized that it is not about using every means possible to bear witness, but using the one that bears the most fruit—the one task, tailor-made for my giftings, on which the Lord has written my name. Either way, you can rest assured that wherever I land, popular influencer will never be the goal; it is about creating an opportunity for encounter. In the words of Archbishop Rino Fisichella, “Today’s world does not listen to influencers, it listens to witnesses, and if it listens to influencers, it is because they are witnesses.”[2]
So tell me, dear friend, what have you seen? And how will you bear witness? Because the world is listening.
Food for thought or journaling …
What have you seen God do in your life, and how will you bear witness? What is one personalized task, specific to your gifts, on which the Lord has written your name?
Jesus, Word Incarnate, help me to use my words to share the difference You have made in my life, to testify to the world the way You stooped toward me and heard my cry; the way You put a new song in my mouth. Give your servant the courage to witness to the world all that I have seen. Amen.
[1] Carol Glatz, “Panel: Catholic influencers are blessings, not ‘brands,’ sharing the Good News,” Northwest Catholic, July 29, 2025, https://nwcatholic.org/news/carol-glatz-and-junno-arrocho-esteves-catholic-news-service/panel-catholic-influencers-are-blessings-not-brands-sharing-the-good-news
[2] Ibid.
