The modern dating conveyor belt
Alert banners flash on my phone screen throughout the day: “So-and-so likes you.” Reflexively, I pause what I’m doing, open my dating app, and engage in a perfunctory profile check. Initially, there are several factors to consider:
Does he have a blurry gym mirror selfie? Nope.
A photo of himself holding a large fish? Nope.
Whew. Cringey clichés avoided.
Alright then, moving on to more serious business: Do our interests and worldview align?
If yes, then I continue to peruse thoughtfully. But, overall, if the profile depicts an intentional, appealing, and caring soul, I will most likely accept his invitation to start up a chat.
“Hey there!” I text. “Your profile caught my attention because of …’ How are you today?” Back and forth it goes. If our digital conversation via the app flows smoothly and enjoyably, we make plans to meet for coffee or drinks. Drinks may evolve into dinner. When an engaging level of chemistry is apparent, plans for a second date materialize, and the modern dating conveyor belt clicks forward.
But who really is this person sitting across the table from me, sharing a plate of crispy Brussel sprouts? Hopefully, the man whose face and words captured my attention in the digital space is sincere and didn’t show up to this date under false pretenses. But how many dates before I know that the person I “matched” with is right for me and the image he presents is honest, at least as honest as any of us are in public? And what about the other profiles to whom I didn’t respond? Had I given them the chance, perhaps one of them would have been a more genuine connection.
Online dating is messy, distracting, and at times, humiliating.
Online dating is messy, distracting, and at times, humiliating. For instance, one day after a pleasant second date, my match texted to share he just found out his former girlfriend (whom he swore he was over) was pregnant, and he was going back to her. After we split, he continued to send me landscape photos of his morning golf course views and occasional wine recommendations. Yet, when I ran into him at Whole Foods, he didn’t recognize me. And I know stories like this one aren’t unusual.
Plunging into online dating with purpose can feel like taking on a part-time job — with no mileage reimbursement. I know plenty of people who have found love on dating apps. So it seems there should be a manual for navigating online dating’s rewards and pitfalls, but if so, I missed that memo. Instead, I’m maneuvering the world of digital romance with all the grace of someone who periodically drops her phone in the toilet.
Biblical advice for relationships
The Bible obviously doesn’t give pointers about online dating. Though it also doesn’t give many pointers about dating generally, or even romantic love. However, the Bible has plenty to say about making friends, and that feels significant. After all, I’m not using dating apps to find a hook-up; I’m looking for a partner. Logically then, friendship is the first – arguably most important – step to finding that “special someone” with whom to share my life.
In the Book of Sirach, a wisdom text found in the Apocrypha, the subject of friendship is a significant one and is addressed repeatedly. False friends come with caveats: “For there are friends who are such when it suits them, but they will not stand by you in times of trouble” (Sirach 6:8). True friends are to be prized: “Faithful friends are a sturdy shelter; whoever finds one has found a treasure” (Sirach 6:14).
During the second century BCE in Jerusalem, the context in which Ben Sira lived and wrote, a true friend was regarded as someone who showed up in difficult times and could always be trusted to keep confidences (Harper Collins Study Bible, “Sirach.”) Drawing from the rich wells of both the Wisdom tradition and personal experience, Ben Sira knew true friends are few and far between. He went so far as to claim that faithful friends are “life-saving medicine” (Sirach 6:16). Truly, such a rare kind of companion is a grace to be cherished.
Professor Kendra Weddle reflects that it was a faithful friend who saved her life. In 2019, the scholar-in-residence at a United Methodist Church in Dallas wrote in the Christian Century that she had 633 friends on Facebook. Yet, she still felt debilitatingly alone because she realized how few of those “friends” were genuinely there for her. Reeling in an isolating season of grief, mercifully, she had one true friend who walked with her through her personal storm, safely helping her navigate to the other side. Citing the wisdom of Ben Sira, Weddle explains that this friend truly became her shelter.
In sweats on my couch, scrolling through dating profile after profile, it occurs to me that this is precisely what I am looking for. I desire a connection that extends beyond “likes.” I want to know someone beyond their favorite quote from “The Office,” screenshot of their “excellent” credit score, and dream to travel to Bora Bora. Incidentally, I, too, want to be known for more than the flat image I construct of myself and post for the world to see. I am seeking a trusted and devoted companion with whom to share my life. But in a sea of digital faces – simplified, commodifiable presentations of self – how do you find a faithful friend?
How do you find a faithful friend?
“When you gain friends,” cautions Ben Sira, “gain them through testing, and do not trust them hastily” (Sirach 6:7). Writing in the second century BCE, Ben Sira could not have predicted the complex world of online dating in 2025. (Don’t even get me started on the ethical challenges of catfishing and AI-generated profiles.) Nevertheless, his guidance is very relevant to today’s modern dating dance.
Embracing failures
Atlantic columnist Arthur C. Brooks writes that dating is a lot like a business start-up. Business entrepreneurs know that a certain amount of risk and failure is inevitable to achieving that one success. For Brooks, both in business and dating, he acknowledges that failures are painful. However, even breakups hold immense potential if one accepts their inevitability and meets their arrival as an opportunity to learn.
He writes, “Common skills that people who have broken up learn are how to balance their relationships with friends and the relationship they have with their partner, how to trust with caution, and the importance of being a friend, as well as a lover, to their partner.”
I have had many dating failures; I will probably have many more. Brooks advises me to learn from each one, to not see breakups as a personal shortcoming but rather to objectively (as much as humanly possible) take stock of each relationship and note what I might do differently next time. If I welcome the chance to grow, rather than risk repeating doomed patterns, each breakup will bring me closer to that one treasured success.
Trusted relationships come by trial and testing.
Though writing from worlds and millennia apart, Brooks and Ben Sira seem to draw from the same ancient well of wisdom: that trusted relationships come by trial and testing. Ben Sira warns, “There are friends who are companions at the table, but they will not stand by you in time of trouble” (Sirach 6:10). Every first date means a new companion at my table. Therefore, I should meet each one with a spirit of caution but openness. Finding a faithful friend is worth the reward.
