Will Technology Kill Christianity?
The dehumanization of organized love and faith
Until last Sunday, my mama hadn’t been to her church for a Sunday service in nearly a year primarily due to ongoing dementia further complicated by a set of fixed paranoid delusions which threatened to tear my family and my heart apart. I, on the other hand, hadn’t been to the church of my childhood (her church) in decades. Though I’d sung in the choir each Sunday, attended choir practices during the week and ran the halls afterward with my friends for several of my adolescent years, it was no longer my church.
The church itself felt strange to me now. Slightly familiar but disconnected from the past or the reality of the present, it felt more like an evangelical television set drifting and bobbing on a sea of empty platitudes. It was definitely bigger in square footage where it had been added onto over the years, whereas grandiosity and hubris seemed to get an upgrade, as well.
The church itself felt strange to me now. Slightly familiar but disconnected from the past or the reality of the present, it felt more like an evangelical television set drifting and bobbing on a sea of empty platitudes.
Seated in what I believe were the same wooden pews I’d found it hard to sit still on many years earlier, facing toward the same altar, I reviewed every last thing I didn’t like about my mama’s church, the “new” minister, the choir, the amateur organ player, the music director’s choice of psalms and the large screen monitors hanging to the left and right of the altar which sporadically came to life with portions of the service. They were like television commercials and I wanted to mute their incongruent intrusiveness.
Unlike the minister’s presence throughout the services I remembered as a kid, I disliked how the lead pastor was absent for the entire program until it came time to deliver his sermon. At this point, he entered from the side door as if he was some sort of prancing show horse. He was wearing a flesh colored wireless microphone fastened to his head and a pasted-on grin. It was clear he loved the sound of his own voice ringing through the sanctuary by way of the expensive electronic set-up meant to spread his face and voice over the internet and onto a computer screen only to be squinted at by someone unfortunate enough to be homebound. That was my mama for the past year held hostage by a terrorist named Alzheimer’s.
At this point, he entered from the side door as if he was some sort of prancing show horse.
As my mama grew more and more ill and my family was suffering, bewildered and desperate, I turned to the church for help, asking for neutral ground to meet along with mediation and counsel from the pastor. The church essentially declined my request claiming ‘liability’ reasons. Really? Where would Christianity be if JC had begged off for fear of being held responsible for his doctrines?
When I called the church a few weeks ago to request the pastor visit my mama, still in hospital, I was informed by the church secretary, unbeknownst to us, Mom had actually been to the church requesting to pray with the pastor the day before we were forced to involuntarily admit her for treatment. But the inimitable pastor was not available to counsel or comfort my mom so the secretary prayed with her.
Months prior to recent events, I went personally to my mama’s church and asked the pastor to counsel with my family and I was told by the lead secretary who seemed to run interference for those sort of requests, “He’s not really good at that sort of thing. He’s great at preaching ‘The Word’ from the pulpit but, not so hot at one-on-one counseling.” Really? What are words without action?
The pastor was still fairly new to his congregation and a complete stranger to me but I caught the secretary’s drift and gathered there were folks, (mostly elders) in the congregation who didn’t much care for his hands-off style. When I saw him for myself I was unprepared for the difference in physical appearance and what I’d imagined. Actually, I found him a tad creepy for lack of a better description. TV evangelist, snake charmer, and used car salesman were just a few of the descriptors that floated through my mind as I watched him work the crowd.
Before the service got underway he came up the aisle like a politician greeting his constituents. As he approached the pew where I sat next to my fragile and stoic mama I expected him to recognize her, reach for her hand and warmly welcome her back. I waited. It didn’t happen.
Did he even recognize one of his eldest parishioners who’d been a member of this church since the 1970’s?
Nope, not a hint of recognition. Neither was there a visit from the church ministry or even a phone call from any member of the staff the entire time my mama was hospitalized, even after I personally called the church and requested it on her behalf. I hesitated before asking if she would like a visit from her pastor while she was in hospital because I had doubt as to whether he or anyone else would show up, and I didn’t want her to be disappointed.
The church was a no-show. My mom, however, was saved from disappointment by her failing memory.
I’m probably the last person to lecture anyone on how to preach the gospel of Christianity but, I’m pretty sure reaching out through technology alone is a poor substitute for reaching out with ears, hands, feet and hearts as Christ exemplified.
I understand a church may only refer to the brick and mortar building which houses a particular denomination of Christianity. But church is supposed to be the movement of its people and the fountain from which springs forth the actions which follow its principle belief in the Christian tenets of love and service. Church is supposed to be an actual demonstration of all Christianity has to offer, isn’t it?
I’m sorry to say, Mama’s church, my childhood church has put on a poor show of Christianity despite the blinking lights, expensive, multi-channel sound board, wireless microphones, high-speed internet connections and big screen media displays crammed into the once simple and elegant sanctuary.
Perhaps you’ll think I’m being far too critical and I’m certainly aware I’m engaging in judgement, but I should think there lies a difference between uninformed judgement and discerning judgements based on what one actually experiences.
Finally, don’t misunderstand me, I haven’t lost faith in the tenets of Christianity but, I’ve certainly grown rather skeptical about a church’s ability to translate them into authentic and meaningful action through technology without dehumanizing love and community.
S Lynn Knight, 2017
