It’s 2010, and I’ve driven to attend a conference at a West Coast church. The place is still relatively unknown, though it is already a rapidly growing church. Nestled in a valley, the venue is on its way to becoming a small campus. The church is producing some powerful music, along with teaching that counters some of the theological “errors of emphasis” of previous generations of the North American Church.
It’s the opening session. Alongside other newcomers to the church, as well as regular attendees, I have just experienced a profound time of worshipping God through song. It’s one of those spiritually thin moments, in which you feel simultaneously the transcendence and immanence of God. There’s a weightiness to the atmosphere such as one would properly expect in the presence of a holy God.
After welcoming visitors—who raise their hands to identify the distant states and provinces from which they’ve traveled to attend the event—the man standing at the pulpit pulls out his iPad to begin his sermon. “Love, love, love my iPad,” he says offhandedly, with a grin. He opens it up to the app where he has apparently prepared his sermon notes and launches in.
He’s a fantastic speaker, a master of the “selah” moment—the pregnant pause followed by a repetition of the same pithy truth that preceded it. I can attest that in a moment like this, illumination can flood the spirit as you grasp the profundity of what has been said. It’s a level deeper than mere head knowledge.
As the sessions continue over the following days of the conference, they unfold in a similar pattern. I don’t notice it at first, but as the conference draws to an end and yet another of the speakers mentions, yet again, his iPhone or iPad, I begin to feel like I might be in an Apple commercial. It’s never done in anything but a casual, off-the-cuff way, but perhaps it is just one time too many. The point is, I’ve now flagged it and it makes me wonder. Maybe it’s this speaker’s first iPad/iPhone, I think. That probably explains it. Or perhaps it’s an unconscious way of signaling how they’re different as a church. That they’re cool—not stuck in the past.
Over the years, I continue to listen to recordings of services from this same church. Though not overly obvious, this pattern continues. It’s odd, I think. It’s just a little too much. I mean, I get it that he loves his iPhone. But the question niggles at me. Why? Why continually bring it up?
By this point, the church’s popularity has soared. Their music is now well-known around the world. With it, the way they embrace media within their services has also spread. Many churches across North America, regardless of denomination, have begun to mimic their unique service style: their high production-value use of professional cameras to live broadcast services and the advanced (for that time) use of CDs, DVDs and mp3s to share the church’s teaching. This was long pre-pandemic, so very few churches were broadcasting services live at this point. Yet their newly-expanded viewership represents a significant worldwide “market,” if one were cynical enough to look at it that way.
Finally, the question bugs me to the point that I begin googling. Does Apple sponsor product placement in churches? Does Apple sponsor pastors to promote their products? I try other variations of similar questions, but find no answers. I ask a few pastors I know to see if they’ve ever heard of such a thing, but they seem surprised by the idea. Perhaps I’m thinking too much like a journalist, I tell myself.
I hate to disappoint you, but I’ve yet to find an answer to this question. I believe it’s likely that if Apple did ever sponsor megachurch leaders as influencers to promote adoption of smart phones within Christian communities, then neither Apple nor said church leaders would want this made public. But I have no solid answer.
It’s probably not the cause of what I’m seeing, I think. Part of me is mad at myself for even thinking this way. We’re talking about good people here. I dismiss it, but of course, I don’t forget.
Neophilia
I now think it is probable that this constant referencing of the latest technology is a reflection of what I will call this church’s neophilia—their love of the “new.” This particular stream of the church has made much of Jesus’ words about new wine and new wineskins.1 They have an expectation to receive “new wine” from God, presumably meaning a fresh outpouring of the Holy Spirit. There’s an emphasis on exploring new methods within the church to contain this “new wine.” In fact, this stream has a definite bent against tradition.
I’m not opposed to allowing freedom within structures to facilitate new ways of God meeting His people per se. However, it’s important not to neglect the second half of what Jesus said here: that no one, having tasted the new wine, prefers it to the old, because the old is better. Jesus is not endorsing only newness here. Other verses come to mind that uphold this, such as seeking the “ancient” paths and the good way.2
My question is, how much of the neophilia of this stream is due instead to buying into the Myth of Progress: that whatever is new must be better, because it is the nature of human society to advance? At the heart of the Myth of Progress is the idea that “we can make it better,” the subtle subtext of which is often “we can make it better than God.” There’s an unhealthy control inherent in this myth.
Taken to the extreme, of course, individuals or societies that pursue this Myth of Progress become controlling in nature. This is called totalitarianism, and it’s usually found in pursuit of some kind of utopian ideal based on believing that we can make society better—if only we are in charge.
Back to the neophilia of this church stream, however. Often, we are not aware of the subtle lies we pick up from the culture that surrounds us. If my assessment of the reason this church loved to talk about their latest tech is accurate, then it was an unexamined incorporation of the Myth of Progress into the Gospel. Since the Myth of Progress is the foundational myth behind the Machine, then there you have it: the Machine in the Church.
It’s not surprising, then, that this “Machine in the Church” issue has come up again recently with the current global push for artificial intelligence (AI). I’ve been in several recent gatherings of Christians where a leader has promoted the use of generative AI. There have even been gatherings created to specifically discuss the benefits of AI. Not the potential downsides, nor to think Christianly through the use of it and the ramifications—only the benefits. I’m guessing these groups don’t want to discuss potential negatives, because they don’t want to be seen as Luddites. There’s a culture-wide referencing of Ludditism as way to discredit anyone who dares to disagree with the benefits of AI. But the repetition on this theme in these gatherings makes it feel like AI is being pushed. Again, it seems just a little much.
Consulting the Oracle
One leader recently gave examples of how he’s heard of Christ followers using AI in everyday life. It’s a personal assistant. It can do research for you; it’s like having a legal expert in your pocket! You can use it to write business content.
Sure, all true and of some value, though I wouldn’t relegate my content away to artificial intelligence.
Ask it to summarize a book of the Bible for you. One person I know even asked it to create a prophetic blessing for them.
To be fair, on that last point, he did qualify that he’s not sure if that’s a good idea.
Not sure if that’s a good idea? Seriously?
It’s like asking the entire Internet to create a message from God for you. ChatGPT and other AIs have been trained on internet content, which is essentially the brain of “the world”—meaning the biblical definition of the world, or that which is in opposition to the Kingdom of God. If there was ever a concrete example of worldliness, the Internet is it. You’re telling me you’re going to hand over your God-given ability to hear, for yourself, the still, small voice of God to a machine trained on the foolishness of the world? The mind boggles. I’m dumbfounded. I believe that would be the textbook equivalent of consulting a soothsayer or medium: asking for a message from God from a channel unconnected to God and likely connected to ungodly sources.
My brother calls the Internet “The Oracle.” “Go consult The Oracle,” he’ll say when we run into an unanswered question in our conversations. He’s only half-joking. What he’s doing is keeping at the forefront of his mind that you can find any supposed “truth” you want on the Internet, from any source. Furthermore, that there may in fact be a spiritual influence behind that information. It’s not all amoral.
And yes, I get that the Internet is literally a medium (singular of media)—a channel of information—with all the inherent connotations that word carries. I’m just not sure if these Christian leaders understand when I hear them suggest asking it, via AI, to write a message for you from God.
Over the past 15 years, I’ve found myself moving from embracing what once seemed to be the welcome freshness of tech used well in the church to believing we should be rejecting it much more than we are. Here’s my reason: We’re not thinking Christianly about the ramifications of using technology in the church before we do so. When you allow technology to mediate your corporate worship of God, what else are you allowing through the door?
The mediated message
As Canadian communications theorist Marshall McLuhan has famously said, the medium is the message. As someone raised without television, the truth of this statement is abundantly clear to me. When you’re raised outside of a technology, you see the effects of how it communicates a message in action. Television and film (an industry in which I’ve worked, by the way) create a worldwide celebrity culture. Why? Because when you focus on the visual aspects of communication, people begin to value what they attend to. Appearance, personality and “image” become central. “Image,” in this case, means what actors, public personalities and content appear to be, not necessarily what they are. The message is mediated—transmitted to us by a third party (technology)—and so we experience only what we are allowed to experience through the inherent restrictions of that medium.
It seems too obvious to state, but as viewers, we don’t actually know actors, for example. We’ve seen them over and over, larger-than-life on screens in front of us, pretending to be certain characters that make a strong impression on us. Because of this experience, as a society, we tend to believe we know actors. But we don’t.
Yet what is the curse of fame for most celebrities? It is that people approach them as if they know them. They expect something from celebrities akin to a relationship, but in reality, the masses do not know celebrities at all. They only know a selected, projected image of the person behind multiple fictitious personas.
This is just one example of how a medium (in this case, film and television) limits, restricts and reduces reality. We believe we know someone we have never met because of the way they are powerfully mediated to us. The way that the medium transmits reality becomes its message—its version of reality. The church, for the most part, has not done a good job of thinking Christianly about the ramifications of each “message” of technology before they let it into the church.
What else walks in the door?
Here’s what I mean and why I don’t think this is just another version of the endless “organ versus piano versus guitar and drums” debates that went on in church circles during my childhood.
When you let a video-based culture into the church, you allow in a cult of celebrity—even if you don’t mean to. Jesus dealt with this fawning over “special” people pretty decisively when speaking to the religious leaders of His day.3
When you let marketing into the church, you get “branded church”—a culture of marketing a selected image that can even lead to selling the gospel for gain. Jesus also dealt with this pretty decisively when He turned over the money changers tables in the Temple courts.4
When you let in social media messaging, you allow entrance to an influencer culture complete with its ego temptations. It’s a type of celebrity, but it’s worse. It can become the unknown, lone-wolf celebrity who is not under authority and not in relationship with others who will ask hard questions or challenge their assumptions.5
Of course, you can find these problems without technology use in churches. It’s just that technology exacerbates them.
I’ve walked with people who have been spit out the other end of scenarios like these multiple times in my life. It’s never pretty and usually, quite painful. I call it “hacked to death on the cutting edge of the church.”
For example, I have a friend who worked for a Christian organization that decided that for the longevity of its message, it needed to appeal to a younger generation. They moved their message to a video-based platform that incorporated a virtual community. Professional videographers were hired to create content that gave the impression of a vibrant community gathered around their message.
Before long, my friend was told that he needed to appear younger to appeal to this target audience. This led to the gradual replacement of the elements of his role by a younger and “hipper” marketing team. Once it became clear which way the wind was blowing, my friend opted to leave the organization of his own accord.
What I observed in this process is that when you open the door to the Machine in church, you let in a bunch of other critters as well: celebrity culture, pride/ego, narcissism, the charismatic personality leader, hero worship, elitism, ageism, competition and striving, jealousy, and complete breakdown of trust. These traits run completely opposite of everything Jesus taught. In the most extreme cases, you can get a culture of “anything goes” as long as it’s creating a following. Then we have the church mirroring the world, instead of transforming it.
And remember, the Machine isn’t just the technology itself; it’s a way of thinking. It’s the powers that come along with the unexamined use of technology that collectively feed us lies.
The Machine always requires people be sacrificed to it. That’s one way to recognize it. It’s a false god.
I’ve said that we need to think Christianly through our use of technology before we let it into the church. What does this mean?
Why intimacy is everything
Honestly, I’m not suggesting we have a set of questions through which we evaluate a technology before using it, though I’m sure one could create such a thing. The reason I prefer not to do so is because the most important criterion for assessing anything is to be pursuing an intimate relationship with God.
Intimacy with God allows you to identify counterfeits because you know the real thing. For example, the counterfeit of asking AI to shortcut the process of the inspiration of the Holy Spirit that brings alive one’s personal study of the Bible. Or the counterfeit of asking AI to give you a message from God when you would be better off developing your own ability to connect with God.
Intimacy with God will allow you to see what distortions might be operating already in the world through a new technology, so you’ll know what that technology might bring into a church setting with it. Intimacy with God is what will allow the Holy Spirit within you to flag that something is not quite right about a technology and to examine that further. You don’t need a set of rules. You need to know the voice of God for yourself.
It’s not that I’m saying many Christians in churches around the world don’t have this intimacy. It’s just that I’m not sure they’re taking time to think through it, to ask God, to interrogate a technology and listen to what they’re hearing in their heart about it. We live in a culture so inundated with the Machine that we don’t even think to ask the important questions anymore.
I’m sure Orthodox and Catholic readers will want to point out here the benefit of the ancient and unbending nature of their traditions. I remember years ago when I worked for Christian media, I interviewed an Orthodox priest for an article I was assigned about “How can the church be more relevant to society?” I’d been asked to interview Christian leaders from all of the various streams of the church on this question, one which was surfacing for many churches at the time as denominations were beginning to see their congregations dwindling.
You can imagine the response I got from him. “The Gospel is always relevant,” he scolded me. “We don’t need to dress it up in modern trappings to make it more acceptable to contemporary society. We would only find ourselves conforming to the ways of the world.” And he was, of course, exactly right.
In fact, there is quite a move towards ancient expressions of the faith right now, I suspect in part because of how many streams of the church have compromised with the values of the world—like the neophilia I describe and the Myth of Progress. I myself have spent quite a lot of time in these more ancient expressions over the years, reading from Celtic Christianity, Catholicism and Orthodoxy. There is a healthy counterbalance and depth to be found within them.
Still, we need to hold in tension the new wineskins with the old wine. Both are good and have different purposes. We need both fresh input from the Holy Spirit alongside the depth and rootedness of lived truth passed down through the ages. As with most things in scripture, what appears to be an either/or proposition is often a both/and reality. There is no growth without this kind of tension. It’s in learning how to live in the tension of the two poles that the Way of God is often found.
Bible, Luke 5:33-39
Bible, Jeremiah 6:16-17
Bible, Matthew 23:5-7
Bible, Matthew 21:12
Bible, Proverbs 5:12-13 and 26:12
Is the possibility of progress really a myth. Humankind is now living (trapped) in the basement level of its individual and collective evolutionary growth. It is as though we are trapped in the basement of a seven story building, presuming that is all there to our being-existence, and thus wondering what is the nature, source and meaning of the flickering lights on the other side of the wall.
Please find three paragraphs on the necessity of progress
The collective, and should-be-cooperative, and, altogether right and life-positive exoteric domain of politics, social and economic activity, conventional religions and idealistic culture, and materially oriented science and technology is, all and always, about would be progress, or the potential for always progressive advancement in human survival solutions and living well-being.
The collective, and should be exemplary, and, altogether, illuminating esoteric domain of the totality of the beyond-religion culture of Spirituality, philosophy, and the arts is, all and always, about self transcendence.
These two human collective domains - the exoteric domain of progress and the esoteric domain of self transcendence, are, altogether, the necessary and always mutually inclusive basis for right and true human human (and necessarily, always unified, and, thus, always actively and effectively single) polity, society, culture, and life.
Why should the Presence (or the atmosphere) of God be weighty?
What if as Hildegard of Bingen ecstatically understood that we are "feathers on the breath of god".
Is true intimacy weighty or intrinsically light-hearted and full of joy and laughter.
Any authentic religious and especially Spiritual practice should be about the cultivation of True Intimacy which is intrinsic to the human condition.
“As with most things in scripture, what appears to be an either/or proposition is often a both/and reality. There is no growth without this kind of tension. It’s in learning how to live in the tension of the two poles that the Way of God is often found.”
Meg, these last three lines of your essay are profound. I’ll be mulling over them and hopefully memorizing them so they can stay with me as a clear magnifying glass as I’m speaking, looking, and listening for years to come. Thank you for the time and effort you put into this excellent article and for those last three sentences . They have crystallized what The Spirit has been percolating in my heart for several years. I discovered you through Paul Kingsnorth’s recent share of your Substack and, for now at least, I value those three sentences of yours as the best gift the Father has given me through Paul’s hands so far (and I value the gifts given through him pretty highly =).