Prank phone calls always fascinated me as a child. Calling someone anonymously and then saying something outrageous like: “Is your refrigerator running? Why don’t you catch it?” It seemed harmless fun to a kid, and nobody knew who you were. You wore the mask of anonymity. 

Unfortunately, prank calls aren’t always funny. I remember receiving a call when I lived in Russia. My Russian was pretty good, but sometimes understanding someone on the phone was difficult. Well, this particular day, a man called and mumbled something to me. Not understanding what he said, I asked him to repeat it. Still mystified by his words, I asked him to repeat it one more time. Suddenly I realized I was the victim of an obscene phone call. And I’d asked him to repeat the words several times! It appeared my vocabulary skills were seriously lacking in this area—my next language lesson involved learning the “bad” words. Of course, not so I could use them, but to recognize them and not invite perverts to repeat them. 

Nowadays, it’s not as easy to be anonymous on the phone as in my childhood. Caller ID comes into play, though I did a little research, and there are ways to make unknown calls. But in today’s world, a new place of anonymity is found on the internet. 

Initially, the internet seemed like a fantastic invention that would help bring us together. I appreciated using the internet to keep in touch with family and friends when we lived overseas. But now, we are pulled apart by the internet. I agree with Aaron Sorkin’s observation:      

The internet, in general, I find troubling. The anonymity has made us all meaner and dumber. This thing that was supposed to bring us closer together, I see it doing the opposite.

It appears that anonymous meanness is contagious. It is so easy to get sucked into some crazy argument online. Because you aren’t speaking face to face, you can spout off all those rude things that roll around in your head but should never be said out loud—or written online. 

With the pandemic, the wearing of masks has added to this problem of anonymity. It’s hard to judge what another person is thinking when you can’t see their face. Are they smiling, frowning, or downright crazy behind that mask? I found myself trying to smile with my eyes until I saw my face in a window one day. I looked like a crazy person with wiggling caterpillar eyebrows and bulging eyes. That reflection was frightening. 

With a mask on, it’s much easier to be rude to the cashier because you are anonymous and unrecognizable. 

Why do anonymity and the urge to misbehave seem to walk arm in arm? 

I’ve experienced the temptation to act in a way that I’d never consider if I wasn’t wearing a mask. I realized I wouldn’t have to pay for the consequences of my bad behavior if no one recognized me. Of course, unless I’m wearing a hat, my wild gray curly hair usually gives me away regardless of the mask on my face. 

But then I remember, there is One who always recognizes me. Jesus. He knows me, and I can’t hide from Him no matter what mask I put on or if I straighten my hair and dye it purple. He is El Roi, the God who sees me. The One who can read both my mind and heart.

Hopefully, soon masks will be a thing of the past. But I can’t help but wonder if putting aside masks will help restore our civility. Will we have to give up social media to escape the incivility that often appears on it? Is it possible to remain on social media and reflect kindness and encouragement to others?

But as I ponder those questions, I always remind myself I may be an obscure person on social media, but not to Jesus. I will attempt to look beyond the mask of anonymity that so many people wear and see them as one in need of El Roi. To introduce others to the One who loves them. Remember, Jesus knows you and considers you worthwhile. You are not an anonymous face in the crowd to Jesus. He sees you and can’t wait to have a life-changing dialogue with you.