As for me and my church, we will serve the algorithm

In the pursuit of an "online presence," we may end up using people instead of caring for them

This is a follow-up from my previous post, which you may want to read first: “We were being used, but we couldn’t see it.”

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Imagine a picture of two men, smiling at each other as they shake hands.

Now imagine that one man is Black, the other is white. 

It’s part of a job advertisement: a church is seeking to hire a new pastor. 

Before you read on, take a second to fully imagine this picture, and consider what it communicates. What would it lead you to think about the church?   

“two men smiling and shaking hands in a modern church wearing polo shirts,” according to AI.

The above, though AI-generated, is similar to the photo our former church used when it posted the job opening online. It was a great picture, intended to make the church appealing to candidates — here is a friendly, caring, racially diverse community. 

But the photo failed to show some important information: 

1. The white man was one of the pastors, and every one of them was white. In fact, I knew of only 2 Black members in what was at the time a congregation of 300+. The photo said “diverse.” The truth: We were as homogenous as a congregation could be, and not just racially but also in terms of age and socioeconomic class.

2. The Black man was not a member of the church. He and his wife, who was white, would only occasionally attend. This was a candid photo, taken before or after a service, most likely without him being aware of it. In other words, his picture was taken without his knowledge and was being used without his permission to portray something that wasn’t true. Our church wasn’t diverse.

This man’s occasional attendance at our white church was being exploited to enhance the church’s image.

I can imagine some of you saying “whoa, that’s a little dramatic, don’t you think?” Can’t churches use photos in an aspirational way, to communicate their values? 

A multiethnic church is a great goal, in fact. But when I posted my last article, I heard from quite a few people who were used this way: they visited a church and later realized their picture had been taken for “diversity.” 

They did not feel honored by the experience, at all:

In every case, these photos were dishonest — they suggested a type of diversity that didn’t exist.¹ They were also exploitative — rather than serving people who came to church, they used them for their own advantage.

Churches that treat their congregation this way are doing the opposite of Jesus: instead of seeking to serve others, they seek to be served. 

I’ve highlighted this practice in relation to race and diversity because it’s the most obvious and offensive. But social media carries many risks of exploitation. Here are specific examples from our former church, though I’ve seen similar things elsewhere:

• What was shown: photos of people shaking hands, hugging each other, talking in the lobby, which presented our church as a welcoming, caring family. 

  • The disconnect from truth: Cliques were a problem. Friendly welcomes weren’t always followed up by genuine friendship, and pastors tended to pay attention to people they felt were “influential.” 

  • The exploitation: Leaders cultivated relationships with those who had resources and were much less likely to spend time with the poor, socially awkward, disabled, or otherwise marginalized groups. They usually weren’t featured in photos or videos, either. 

• What was shown: candid photos of the worship team on stage. They were great action shots, benefiting from the stage lighting.

  • The disconnect from truth: Only flattering pictures were shared. Mistakes like a lyric sung at the wrong time were obviously never featured. This encouraged us to see the worship service as a performance, rather than the effort of imperfect believers to express their love for God and one another. 

  • The exploitation: Worship team members often shared these posts when their own photos were featured. This would expand the reach of the church’s audience. In other words, the church used members as in-house influencers to promote its brand to “customers.”

These are just two examples, but they highlight the problem. A desire to promote a church — or even “the gospel” — can reverse the goals of a Christian community. 

Instead of sacred time spent in God’s presence, the weekly worship service becomes a performance. Instead of a time to experience unconditional love, Sunday morning becomes an event for extracting “content.” Instead of the church serving the flock, the flock is used to serve the church. 

Some of you may be objecting at this point. Am I suggesting a church shouldn’t have photos or videos online, or a social media presence? Isn’t this necessary today?

Social media and websites aren’t bad in and of themselves. But we should be very careful with them, regularly asking “who does this serve”? Is it primarily for the image of the church and its leadership, or is it for building up the congregation? Other questions might include: 

• Do you think about “who makes the church look good”? 

• Do you get permission to use people in your photos and videos? Many organizations ask people to sign a wavier, letting them determine whether and how their picture is used.

• Does what you show online represent what’s really happening inside the church building and between church members?

• If you recognize a disconnect — a place where you fall short of what you want to be — what are you doing to change? For example: is your church as diverse as it appears on your website, and if not, what steps can you take towards true inclusion and racial reconciliation? 

As I work to untangle my experience of church abuse, I’m seeing it was more than just the fault of a few bad characters. Many factors created an unhealthy environment, including doctrine, emotional immaturity, beliefs about gender roles, consumer culture expectations, and yes, even social media practices.  

When I first wrote about this issue, a friend messaged me to say that our former church is now publishing weekly slideshows of youth group worship. Teenagers are already struggling with the destructive effects of social media on mental health.² Youth group should be a safe place, a refuge from the stresses they encounter in school, a place to be loved unconditionally. Instead, their time at church has become another opportunity to think about how they look and who will see them. 

That same friend expressed regret for how they’d been influenced at that church.

“I was that person at one point,” they said. “I hoped every week that I’d somehow end up on [the slideshow].” But over time, they noticed the culture wasn’t really authentic; it valued appearance more than substance. Now, they are struggling to find a new church and rebuild their relationship to the Lord.

“Once I started to notice the fakeness, I couldn’t do it anymore.” 

1. This is one of a number of examples where our church attempted to project “diversity” or talk about race without attempting to reach the diverse community around us or address racial injustices in our area of North Carolina. But that’s a topic for another post!

2. A quick search will turn up plenty of examples of how social media is harming youth. One study from several years ago that surprised me found young women were spending 5 hours a week taking selfies. You can read more in this piece by Freya India, a Gen Z writer.