Is the Internet Changing Evangelicalism?

I recently came upon this article on FaithStreet:

Before the Internet, churches, denominations and Christian leaders largely controlled and directed discussions of theology and orthodoxy. If one wished to reform a local church body or a denominational gathering, they first had to find a way to gain access to the platforms, pulpits and power structures of those institutions. Even if they wrote treatises or books, would-be-reformers were likely to find their ideas locked out by the constraints of the publishing industry. Consequently, popes, priests, pastors and denominationally certified theologians had almost exclusive influence in forming and reforming church practices.

But in the Internet age, there has been a distinct shift in how individuals receive religious information. Where previous generations would have sought counsel through the local church, denominational edicts and recommended religious texts, the modern Christian hunts for meaning through Google searches, Facebook shares, retweets and – increasingly — in the plentiful writings of celebrity Christian bloggers.

. . .

Certainly, there have always been church outsiders who’ve influenced church dialogue. However, the Internet Age has opened the door to increasing numbers of spiritual celebrities: bloggers, podcasters, and Christian social media experts who can speak to- or on behalf-of the church without having to abide within the churches or communities of believers that they are leading.

This divide matters, because it means that leaders are increasingly able to give advice without having to pastor the consequences that arise from following that advice. The result is an Internet that overflows with Christian horror stories, penned by believers who took one-size-fits-all advice from some distant and disconnected spiritual authority.

I’m . . . torn?

See, I grew up in an evangelical megachurch. We knew our pastor, and he knew of our family, but he never knew all of us children’s names and he didn’t have much direct involvement in our lives. Besides, my dad was a bit of a rebel. He met with the elders to try to get the church’s music style changed, and we sometimes skipped church to do “home church” instead. So this idea that pastors are intimately connected to and involved in the consequences that arise from following their advice isn’t something that is part of my experience.

Do you know what was part of my experience? When I began asking questions and forming my own beliefs, my parents reacted incredibly badly and alternated between attempts to control me and efforts to emotionally manipulate me. I was halfway through college, barely into adulthood and I felt like my entire support system had just fallen apart—and for what? It was a terrible situation, and one I ultimately got out of, but only through a lot of pain. So when there is talk of a Christian pastor’s close involvement in the lives of his parishioners, it rather freaks me out.

At the same time, the idea of my UU pastor knowing me by name and caring about what’s going on in my life seems not scary but supportive. Perhaps that is because a UU pastor accepts differences in belief while evangelical pastors strive to keep their parishioners on the straight and narrow? Maybe it’s because I don’t expect judgement from a UU pastor, but that’s just what I think of when an evangelical pastor comes to mind?

So I suppose in many ways I like the democratizing force the internet offers evangelicals. I suppose I feel like being able to explore without someone looking over your shoulder is beneficial and freeing, and I like that.

But.

My parents also followed a parenting guru named Michael Pearl, and my mother read the writing of Nancy Campbell, and my family also relied on the literature of Vision Forum. While my parents tended to consume these materials in magazine form—sent regularly to our home—these same materials are available online today (except for Vision Forum, which folded after its leader was found sexually molesting his children’s nanny). Men like Michael Pearl can counsel and advise people over the internet, reaching a larger audience than he might have otherwise. But then—he counseled people at a distance before through print, and still does so through his ministry’s monthly magazine. Perhaps the internet simply makes his ministry easier for people to stumble upon?

I’ve also heard stories of evangelical homeschooling moms taking to the internet and coming upon online communities of patriarchal quiverful women and then getting sucked into all of that—from wifely submission to letting God plan their fertility to keeping their daughters home from college as “stay at home daughters.” These women can end up in a sort of feedback loop, where they encourage each other over the internet and end up perpetuating a problematic system that might fall faster if they could see face to face the problems in each other’s lives. But then, I’ve seen similar things happen within homeschooling communities, as newer mothers are sucked into ideologies they would never have thought of on their own, courtesy the other homeschooling mothers.

So in the end, I’m not sure. I’m not sure pastors are as good at dealing with the consequences of their teachings as the FaithStreet author says they are, but I’m also not sure the internet always opens people’s minds rather than closing them. Perhaps, like so much else, the internet is simply a neutral factor—a tool that can be used for good or for ill. And perhaps it can exacerbate each?

And can I say how uncomfortable I am with the article’s title? “When Internet Authority Trumps Church Authority.” Um, no thanks. I would much rather be able to pick and choose across the internet than be expected to bow the knee to pastoral “authority.” Perhaps the internet is a democratizing force after all, moving the next step forward from the disestablishment of official state churches. Or pehraps I’m just a crazy rebel like my father.

How about you? What are your thoughts?