We were being used, but we couldn't see it

When churches see worship as "content" for social media, they'll be tempted to exploit people instead of serving them

A few weeks ago, I used the below photo in a post (read it here), and mentioned that I wanted to write more about how churches turn worship into social media content. Here it is:

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Our eyes were closed, so we didn’t know our picture was being taken.

And when we saw it posted on the church’s social media the next day, we thought it was kind of sweet. Here was a moment of heartfelt worship, captured and then shared. Our picture was being used to help others see the kind of church we were; they might see it and want to attend. 

But our eyes were still closed, in another sense. The photo did show what kind of church we attended, but we wouldn’t be able to see that until much later. 

September 29, 2019

Selling a story

Sunday mornings were unrecorded, at first. We were a new church plant, meeting in a low-ceilinged, windowless space that had recently been a bike shop. But we were growing quickly, and within a few years we bought a much larger building.

Somewhere along the way, the church developed a volunteer media team. We had some talented photographers attending, and they were recruited to capture the weekly services. They walked along the edge of the sanctuary as we worshiped, getting photos of the people on stage, or else turning their lenses to the congregation for candid shots. Each week, the church staff took a handful of these pictures and used them on the church’s social media — like a slideshow of event highlights.

The photos were essentially the same, week after week, though the specific people in them changed. They always included:

• A couple shots of the people on stage: the pastor giving his sermon, looking serious and earnest as he held the Bible or gestured to make a point, and a few of the musicians, dramatic images that looked like concert photographs.

• Pictures of people having lovely worship experiences. They might have looked joyous or deeply moved, but never sad or bored.

• Photos of members socializing before or after services — smiling at each other in the lobby, shaking hands, giving one another hugs. The people featured always appeared happy, well-off, attractive.

The images told a story. They portrayed a friendly congregation and heartfelt worship. They told a story, and they sold the church.¹ 

Our church used this shot of my husband, on the right, greeting a friend after the service. As I use pictures from that time, I’m blurring out other people’s faces unless I get explicit permission to use their image.

At this point, you might be saying, “so what?” 

What’s wrong with using social media to attract people to your church? After all, shouldn’t we want to draw folks to Jesus; give them reasons to come and worship?

It is a good thing to want to call others to Christ. But that wasn’t what our church’s social media was supposed to do.

Worship as “content”

Our weekly photos weren’t aimed at converting people to Christ, but converting people to our church. Our social media content was almost entirely devoted to promoting our church’s image and programs. There were occasional sermon quotes or Bible verses included, but their purpose was to emphasize the quality of the teaching on Sunday mornings, not to direct people to Jesus.

It wasn’t about sharing the gospel, it was about making sure people heard the gospel in our church. 

And it worked. Our church grew. But most of our church’s growth came not from new believers, but from people leaving other congregations. They were already believers, they just preferred our culture and programs. The marketing drew them not to Jesus, but to a better Sunday morning experience. 

Perhaps you’re still asking, “what’s the problem?” The issue isn’t about people switching churches. It’s about what churches do in their efforts to make this happen. It leads to dishonesty and exploitation. It did in our church, at least. 

Let’s return to the photo of me and my husband in worship. We had no idea our picture was being taken, and even after the fact, we didn’t really mind. We loved and believed in our church at the time, and were happy to promote it. But I feel very differently today, following our experience of church abuse. 

Our personal experience of worship, an intimate and sacred moment, was captured and then exploited for “likes.” Rather than serving us, the church used us, took advantage of us when we were vulnerable: eyes closed, singing, seeking the Lord’s presence. They took our picture and shared it without asking our permission. Without our consent².

This may sound a bit over-the-top to some of you. Why make a big deal over one photo?

First, to be clear, I’m not implying that anyone involved was deliberately seeking to harm us, or even consciously aware of how icky this practice was. After all, they did it week after week for years — and still do. 

But secondly, and more importantly, I use strong language because this is the sort of thing many churches do, and likely without thinking, every week: worship services, prayer services, baptisms. All these precious and holy moments, used as “content” for the algorithm. You’ve probably seen things like this show up on your timeline at some point and just scrolled past. But they reflect a way churches relate to their people that is un-Christlike and potentially dangerous.

Because our churches have adopted the assumptions and practices of consumer culture in how we seek to plant, grow, and “multiply” churches like restaurant franchises, we’ve also adopted that culture’s methods of dishonesty and exploitation.  

I think there’s a direct connection between the way our photo was used and the abuse we experienced a couple years later. Sharing a worship picture on social media seems benign, but underneath there are similar motives: the church can use people for its own benefit, without asking our permission … and can discard us when we are no longer useful.

Instead of treating people as precious bearers of God’s image, our church treated us as objects whose purpose was to enhance its image.

And when we threatened that image, we got thrown away.

Part 2 of this post is here: “As for me and my church, we will serve the algorithm.”

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Do you belong to a church that records worship services for social media purposes? How do you feel about the practice?

1. If this is the first time you’ve considered the problems with these practices, don’t feel bad! I have to confess, I almost volunteered to be on the photography team — it’s one of my hobbies, and the light in that old building was really lovely.

2. For more on the subject of consent, see my post on the Billy Graham rule: “Chaperoned by a child.”