Yesterday, I posted some incomplete thoughts on how to use social media for charitable endeavors in a project concept I tentatively called “Charitweets”. I’ve done some additional thinking about the idea and have come up with a few rough specifications.
An idea popped into my head today, and I decided to write about it before I forgot about it. The details are lacking, but I’m hoping my resourceful readers can help with that. 🙂
I love blogfests, tweetups, and other social media gatherings I also love (though no longer have time for) social gatherings and study groups at my church. I’ve noticed, though, that I spend an awful lot of time on entertainment (for either myself or my kids) and rather little on serving my fellow man.
So, the thought occurred to me that I could combine what I love to do with what I should do. Thus, I present to you the barely formed idea of Charitweets. The gist is that it would be very much like Pittsburgh Tweetup but focused solely on charitable activities. Examples include working at soup kitchens, feeding or clothing the homeless, visiting nursing homes, playing with disabled kids, picking up trash, planting community gardens, and volunteer construction work.
The following is a re-post from my old blog, originally posted March 6, 2006. – Eric
"Remember, man, that you are dust and to dust you shall return."
On the first day of Lent we heard these words (adapted from Genesis 3:19) spoken as a priest dipped his thumb in ash and made the sign of the cross on our foreheads. They served as an outward sign of an inner penance and a symbol of mortality. We wore those ashes for the remainder of the day, or at least until they rubbed off. Wherever we went and whatever we did, we were witnesses to the faith. Those who saw us know that we have been baptized into the death of Jesus Christ and hope to share in His resurrection.
More people attend Ash Wednesday mass than Christmas or even Easter, the holiest day of the year. That alone is impressive, but more impressive is the fact that it’s not even a Holy Day of Obligation. We are obliged to attend Sunday mass and a handful of special occasions, but that rarely guarantees universal or even majority attendance. A recent survey found that only a third of those who identify themselves as Catholic attends mass weekly. Yet a great many of the remaining two-thirds will take time out of their work day to attend a morning or midday Ash Wednesday mass to receive ashes.
Why do people make such special efforts? Would we still attend if we didn’t have something to show for it? Are we publicly displaying our piety, real or pretended, seeking the admiration of men?