Christ Has No Online Presence But Yours

Did I get your attention with that headline? The catchy phrase comes from a digital initiative to be held this weekend, when churches around the country will stage a Social Media Sunday, including my own parish of Trinity Episcopal in Iowa. Parishioners are encouraged to bring electronic devices to church and to live tweet and post during the services.

With apologies to Teresa of Avila, the organizers explain the initiative this way:

Christ has no online presence but yours,
No blog, no Facebook page but yours,
Yours are the tweets through which love touches this world,
Yours are the posts through which the Gospel is shared,
Yours are the updates through which hope is revealed.
Christ has no online presence but yours,
No blog, no Facebook page but yours.

I love it! For not surprisingly, I’m a big believer both in the power of the Spirit and the power of the Internet. In my home town, for example, I’m greatly impressed by what the newly launched Journey Church is doing with its engaging and vibrant media presence. It’s just one example of the growing number of faith communities that skillfully blend digital and in-person communities.

And certainly this blog is a on-going source of inspiration and meaning for me–and I hope for many of you as well.

You may be interested in an update on how things are going here at The Holy Rover. As you old-timers may remember, this blog began in 2009 and a year later became part of the larger Spiritual Travels website. I like to think of The Holy Rover as a kind of online Irish pub, serving drafts of spirituality instead of Guinness. Like the bar in the TV series Cheers, it’s frequented by a regular group of customers who have come to know each other through the magic of flying electrons. Spiritual Travels, in contrast, is like a library, with material that is more easily accessible to folks who want to dip in with a single question. What’s it like to stay in a Buddhist temple in Kyoto? Why do people go to Santiago de Compostela on pilgrimage? are some of the search queries that lead people to the site.

Each month, about 8,000 unique visitors (more if you count repeat visitors) wander into the Spiritual Travels library, reading about 20,000 pages. Some stay for a minute, and some read 50 or more pages (while I can’t see individual addresses, the diagnostics for the website give all sorts of other details–for example, while about half of my readers hail from the U.S., I’ve had clicks from Tanzania, Mongolia, and Indonesia, coming from people whom I hope have used the translation button at right). Every few weeks I’ll get a personal note from one of these readers, often telling me about some trip they’ve taken as a result of my suggestion. These emails make my day, as you can imagine.

For those of you who hang out at The Holy Rover, you may not even be aware that Spiritual Travels exists. If you want to check it out, I invite you to browse its Destinations page. A lot of this material may look familiar, for much of it started as blog posts.

There are a variety of reasons why I continue to labor over Spiritual Travels. I get some money from donations (Thank you very much, generous patrons! You’ll find the donations button in the upper right corner of the page.) There’s a small trickle of funds from advertising. There are speaking gigs that come to me as a result of this website (send me a note at [email protected] if you want to learn more about the various Dog and Pony Shows I can present). I’m also happy to write for other print and online publications on any aspect of spiritual journeying.

Most of all, I love having the excuse to go to a place I’m interested in and ask lots of questions. I’ve met the most fascinating people through my travels–from Buddhist monks and Roman Catholic nuns to Lakota wise men. And I’ve met you, my faithful readers, mostly online but sometimes in person.

So if you enjoy this blog, I hope you’ll help spread the word about it. On Facebook, type in Holy Rover and you can “like” it. Tweet it; talk about it; email a friend about it. However you communicate, I appreciate the good words. And drop in any time at The Holy Rover. There’s always a seat waiting for you at the bar.

Finally, you might want to watch this video about why it’s not such a bad idea to tweet your way through a church service this coming Sunday: