In many ways, we have never been more connected.
Our smartphones give us access to anyone, anywhere, anytime. Within seconds we can text, post, comment, like, follow and even livestream. We can attend meetings from home, visit landmarks through virtual tours, and shop online. Social media allows us to follow the lives of people we seldom see, or even those we have never met.
RELATED: Check out more articles on faith and culture from pastor Adam Dooley.
Trends like these are reshaping churches as well.
It’s possible to join a worship service, participate in Bible studies, register for events, connect with other members, offer financial support, submit a prayer request, and record a faith decision without ever leaving your living room. In recent years, Christians began using the term “phygital” to describe the convergence of our physical and digital experiences.
What’s missing?
Yet, despite our technological ability to have the world at our fingertips, something is still missing. In fact, our supposed interconnectivity has seemingly only pushed us further and further away from others.
A recent study published in the Journal of General Internal Medicine may help explain why. By studying more than 1500 American adults ages 30–70, researchers compared the emotional support people received through social media with the strength they gained through real-life relationships.
The difference was remarkable.
Adults receiving the least real-life emotional support faced more than eight times the odds of loneliness compared with those receiving the most. Digital interactions were simply weaker, falling short of meaningful community. Stated differently, our online activities cannot duplicate the strength and value of actual relationships. The real issue is that access creates the illusion of presence.
AI factor
If these waters were not muddy enough, artificial intelligence is now creating further relational substitutes. AI chatbots can answer our questions and help us problem solve while carrying on remarkably human-like conversations. The companion app Replika even promises AI companionship, though a real person is not on the other end of the conversation. These artificial exchanges mimic authentic relationships, but they fall woefully short.
Sending a message is not the same as having a conversation.
A liked post is not the same as receiving a hug. A praying emoji does not communicate the same support as a friend who sits beside you for hours when your world falls apart. AI may encourage us with words, but it cannot love us. It may respond to our grief, but it cannot grieve with us. Bots do not need us, no matter how much we depend upon them.
Is any of this surprising?
Heart of ministry
The very heart of Christianity is a ministry of impactful presence.
God did not seek to save that which is lost from a distance (Luke 19:10). Instead, Jesus became flesh and dwelt among us, revealing the glory of God in a tangible way (John 1:14). The Savior of the world walked our roads, touched those who were sick, wept with those who were hurting, and confronted real sins while calling us to repentance. He did not create a website, load a YouTube message, or look in on us virtually. The Son of God came near to us so that we could draw near to Him.
And now the body of Christ continues the same ministry of life-changing presence. Scripture instructs the church of the living God to “be devoted to one another” (Rom. 12:10), to “care for one another” (1 Cor. 12:25), to “bear one another’s burdens” (Gal. 6:2), to “encourage one another” (1 Thess. 5:11), and to “pray for one another” (James 5:16). The most powerful ministry occurs when we rejoice with those who rejoice and weep with those who weep (Rom. 12:15).
Blessings and limitations
None of this means technology is bad. Livestreaming can be a tremendous blessing to homebound church members, people recovering from illness, those who are traveling, and a host of others who legitimately need to miss a worship service. Social media allows congregations to communicate quickly and spread biblical truth farther than previous generations ever imagined. We should use these tools gratefully, even as we recognize their limitations.
Because God created us for community, He invites us into fellowship with Himself and other believers (1 John 1:3). Genuine relationships require something from us the digital mirage never will. They interrupt our schedules, expose our selfishness, and demand continual nurture. Functioning within the body of Christ necessitates patience, forgiveness, sacrifice and service. Real connection is not always convenient, and it is never tailored entirely around my individual needs.
Payoff
The payoff is worth it, though.
A livestream cannot notice the tears in your eyes. A podcast cannot put an arm around you. An Instagram picture will not speak words of comfort in a waiting room. A chatbot programmed to simulate empathy will never provide the loving accountability or wisdom that comes from an older believer. Watching worship online is good for the exception, but it should never become the rule. We should always be wary of confusing a phone in our hands with the right hand of fellowship (Gal. 2:9).
No wonder Scripture cautions us against forsaking our assembly together as the church (Heb. 10:24–25). Our goal is not merely to receive for ourselves, but also to give of ourselves in order to bless others.
Technology may extend ministry, but it is a poor substitute for authentic community. Some things were never meant to be downloaded — and the church is one of them.
EDITOR’S NOTE — Adam B. Dooley is pastor of Englewood Baptist Church in Jackson, Tennessee, and author of “Hope When Life Unravels.” Contact him at adooley@ebcjackson.org. For more writings like these, visit adamdooley.org.
Share with others: