News has recently come out regarding the alleged criminal behavior of a popular apologist in the online Christian space. This is, unfortunately, not surprising. It should be, but these days, it feels disturbingly common. Pastors, politicians, teachers, musicians—you name it—are all being exposed as sexual deviants, frauds, liars, and hypocrites. It is certainly a tragedy when anyone is shown to be living in grievous sin, but it is even more tragic when it takes place in the life of the Church. When we sin, it is an offense against the body of Christ—the whole Church. Our sins are never private. They create scandal and wound the testimony of the Church to an unbelieving world. With this in mind, I believe that in order to reduce the frequency with which this happens, the Church hierarchy needs to play a more significant role in the online space—for the safety of the vulnerable and for the accountability of those who create content.
We live in a particular moment in history where anyone (and I really do mean anyone) can go online, create a particular self-image, find a particular niche, and have a historically unprecedented amount of influence on others. Horrifyingly, this can be done while maintaining a nearly anonymous public image. How many accounts do you know of on X that are completely anonymous while wielding influence and power over hundreds of thousands of people? I know of far too many. That this is possible should already grieve our hearts. That this is rewarded should actually make us irate.
The Christian internet space, in a matter of a decade, is now flooded with “influencers” who are being elevated into higher and higher positions of power and influence with very little known about them. How long have they been a Christian? Where do they go to church? Do they attend in good standing? Who is their bishop? Does anyone oversee their online activity? In a sane world, these should be reasonable questions to ask of those claiming to represent the Church. But unfortunately, these are not the questions we are asking. Instead, if the individual (or anime profile) speaks with authority, can beat down others in debate, and is propped up by other content creators, they gain automatic celebrity in the eyes of their adoring echo chamber of fans. Once this fan base grows large enough, these people begin to have more and more opportunities placed in front of them. Podcasts want to interview them. Major Christian websites want to feature their work and content. And they do this without so much as asking any of the basic questions I proposed.
To fix this tremendous issue—or at least drastically reduce the chances of platforming these immoral hypocrites—I am calling upon the hierarchy of the Church to recognize that it is necessary to take a more active role in the lives of those who desire to have an online ministry.
I say this as one who does have an online ministry and has learned firsthand how easy it is to become influential with zero accountability.
When I first started “online ministry,” I did so by posting videos on TikTok. This was in the year 2019, if I recall correctly. I had no accountability and no church teaching to filter orthodoxy from heresy in my thinking. Despite this—despite not being theologically formed in any significant way—I still presented myself as a teacher with authority. I argued with people. I hunted down what I deemed as heresy and condemned it with the vigor of a commanding general in the midst of war. My passion and confidence continued to increase as my audience increased. By the beginning of 2020, I had amassed over twelve thousand followers and half a million views on my page. This was all done without one shred of accountability. Scary.
Now, twelve thousand followers and half a million views is pretty modest compared to the hundreds of thousands of subscribers and millions of views that many online creators have currently. However, even with what I had, my reach and influence were more than most men of my social status could hope to achieve throughout all of human history. And the horrifying reality is that this was relatively easy to achieve with the internet—all without any accountability or oversight.
By the grace of God, as I was led into the apostolic Church, I saw the sinfulness in my online ministry’s lack of ecclesial approval. By the continued gift of grace, I also recognized the necessity of amending my error and brought my ministry under the authority of the Church. This is why I now list on my website (and many other places) exactly who I am and who my ecclesiastical authorities are. This is for my protection, but also for the protection and assurance of my audience. Those engaging online content should know who they are listening to. They should be confident, insofar as we are able to be, that those teaching theology online have been approved by their bishops and priests as learned men of godly character. If we can’t find this information, and it isn’t obvious that the voices we are listening to have the Church behind them, we shouldn’t be listening to them.
Now, some might think it is extreme to insist that all who present themselves online in an official capacity need the approval of the Church, but I strongly disagree. In the Anglican Thirty-Nine Articles, Article 23 states that:
“It is not lawful for any man to take upon him the office of public preaching, or ministering the Sacraments in the Congregation, before he be lawfully called, and sent to execute the same. And those we ought to judge lawfully called and sent, which be chosen and called to this work by men who have public authority given unto them in the Congregation, to call and send Ministers into the Lord’s vineyard.”
Now, despite this being written prior to the rise of the internet, I am certain that our fathers in the faith would have insisted that teaching, preaching, and engaging in apologetic theology online qualifies as “public preaching.” This is not to be done “before [the one seeking to do it] be lawfully called, and sent to execute the same.” I believe this is a clear admonition to vet those who are engaging in online ministry. This should be done with seriousness and vigilance, making sure that those representing the Church are not simply intellectually sound, but of sound character. Of course, we cannot infallibly know if the private life of a person matches their public life, but a good and discerning pastor will be able to make an educated and godly judgment regarding the fitness of one desirous to make internet content as a representative of the Church.
It is with this said that I wish to implore bishops and pastors of all communions and denominations to gather and formalize ways to make it canonically required to go through an application process to present oneself as a teacher representing the Church online. This application should be similar to the process one would go through to enter into any of a church’s formal ministries (children’s church, youth groups, adult Bible studies, the pastorate, etc.). Though not bulletproof or invincible to human weakness and sin, these guardrails would help the online space—particularly the Christian online space—to have more accountability. I am also quite certain that this is most properly ordered in an episcopal context. Many independent churches have pastors that essentially operate with the same lack of accountability as many online influencers. This is a separate ecclesial issue for another day, however.
In closing, the current online space, left as it is, will continue to leave room for power-hungry predators to slip in and exert their influence, leaving a trail of victims behind them. This cannot continue to happen. I believe that what I am proposing will, at the very least, reduce the risk of these kinds of people slipping through the system. And if we can prevent that as the Church, even if just by a small margin, I believe that is well worth the extra step to keep our churches healthy and safe.
Cited:
The Book of Common Prayer. Oxford UP, 1928.
Your concern (or its plural) is understood within the context of an institutional representation, but not so within the context of common individuals when the problematic history of religious authority is factored. In general, it’s as disturbing as the pretentious mischief of those not elected and approved.
Christ was crucified, albeit by machination, because he was not, by prejudice, institutionally acceptable. And no less so the martyrdoms of followers.
The great trunk and mighty branches of a tree bath in sunlight and washed in rain.
But the common roots perform everyday humbly soiled in the earth, sipping what they can.
I hope the implications suggest a different or modified need. God has a habit of calling on the common from nowhere held dear.