Over the Christmas break, I visited a church and observed something that disturbed me. The church was telecasting the image of their preacher live from one auditorium to another. I was worshipping in the auditorium in which he was a high-definition video image rather than a flesh-and-blood creature. It was especially shocking because the video image had been engineered to create the illusion that the preacher was actually present. The three-dimensional, life-size image was so convincing that it took me a minute to even realize what I was witnessing. My husband sat in another part of the auditorium and actually never realized that he was watching a digital image until I told him afterwards. The other thing I noticed was that the worship was very flat--there was not a great deal of participation, and people looked unengaged. The music was so loud and "performed" and the live telecast so impersonal that the presence of the congregation made absolutely no difference in the form of the worship service. The congregation was irrelevant to the public acts that were taking place in that space.
I spoke to some church members about this practice to find out why they had decided to worship in this way. They told me that good preachers were getting harder and harder to find. They wanted to open another church campus, and it would be too expensive and difficult to hire another great preacher, so they decided to have him go back and forth between the campuses and supplement his live visits with telecasts.
I spent my undergrad years studying the difference between live, flesh-and-blood performance and non-live media like film. Worship, like live theater, is a communal act. When a living, breathing preacher takes the stage amidst a group of unique human beings, the chemistry between those people is unique. The "audience" matters. They affect the delivery of the message. They are conscious of one another and their mutual, voluntary membership in this very special listening-and-responding fellowship.
Worship is incarnational. It brings our physical bodies into close proximity with other bodies. It asks us to worship God together, not as passive spectators but as praying and singing people. For me, the sound of my sisters and brothers singing is heavenly, whether they sing well or not. Part of the worship experience is the buzz of their conversation and the sound of their laughter when someone onstage makes a joke. We are a brother-and-sisterhood. We understand that we are there to love one another and to spend time together as a family, whether we happen to be having a spat with someone at the moment or not. Sometimes we all weep together for one of our people. I've seen it happen on several occasions, both joyful and sad. Literally the entire five-hundred person church has been in tears, though some are more surreptitious than others. :-)
I would rather hear a boring sermon from a member of our fellowship than a video transmission of the best preacher in America.
I'm not making a judgment on the church I visited, because I don't know them well enough to ascertain what was truly happening on that day. Instead, I'm meditating on the general topic of virtual, passive worship. Isn't it antithetical to what the ministry of Christ was all about? Wasn't he always proving to people that he was here in the flesh? Wasn't he always eating and drinking in fellowship with all people, in full awareness that what happens to our physical bodies has a sacramental effect on our spirits?
It's tempting to think that it's OK to use all the tools of contemporary technology to do whatever we want with our worship. The people at that church told me that "the younger generation is used to it." But I'm not sure they really know what they're talking about. We're not talking about a choice of worship style, or debating hymns versus praise music. The difference between live presence and virtual image doesn't vanish because our teenagers spend a lot of time on computers. That difference--the incarnational difference--is a fact of our human existence. It's a fact of our faith.
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7 comments:
Wow. So, are you saying the minister was like a holographic image? That's just creepy.
Our church does something similar on Christmas Eve. It's not 3-D holographic, but the church pipes a video feed in to the parish center because we run out of room inside the church during the service.
What do you suppose the atmosphere was like inside the church where the pastor actually preached? I'd bet there was a night-and-day difference.
I'm in agreement with you. A preacher is a fellowship leader. Without his/her direction, worshippers are loosely bound.
If it's okay for a pastor to not technically be present, how long will it be before the congregation comes in and leaves digital recorders to record the service so they can play it back at their convenience?
Good post today. Unsettling...but good.
Yes - at first, I thought it WAS a holographic image. "Help me, Obi Wan-Kenobi. You're my only hope." :-)
I can understand using a video feed at Christmastime for overflow services. That's a special circumstance in which a church is doing its best to accommodate large numbers of infrequent guests.
And I agree with you that the atmosphere was probably totally different in the "live" church.
Thanks for your perspective on this - I agree with you wholeheartedly! My parents' church had considered doing a second campus with a satellite feed like this, but decided against it for the same reasons you cited.
I think there are many Christians who don't understand the necessity and importance of corporate worship, or even what that means. I hear phenomenal messages every week on the radio and even on my ipod - but church is more than good preaching. (although good preaching is obviously important!)
Great post! thanks for sharing.
Hey Kristi!
Thanks for our comment - it's always interesting to hear about what other churches are considering, and the decisions they make.
I just put something in the mail to you yesterday. :-)
I find this whole idea disturbing, and one more aspect of even the Christian BODY of Christ losing "physical" contact with one another. We are so far from our roots, it really scares me. So far from the days our very livelihood depended on being in close proximity to one another.
I still feel our spiritual lives depend on being in close proximity. Who hasn't felt the charge of a group of praying Christians holding hands? Or even giving hugs?
I agree with all that's been said. I enjoy an occasional televised sermon or radio broadcast. But when I leave my home in all kinds of inclimate Michigan weather to attend church, I'd like to encounter a real live pastor.
Technology is a blessing in lots of ways. It also frightens me. I don't think I'm alone in that.
Most of what I was going to say has been said already, so I'll say "ditto." =)
I'll say also that it reminded me of a class I had in seminary about ten years ago. It was a communication class, and we had a guest speaker for the day who specialized in technology. He talked with us about the latest trends in churches using the internet, including the rise of virtual churches. He obviously was an expert on all of this, but he also gave a serious caution: he told us that the church must always be careful in how it promotes online "worship," that any internet tool we use should always have the goal of drawing people into face-to-face fellowship, not replacing it. It caught my attention that this techie guru was willing to acknowledge tech's limitations regarding the church.
The only extreme exception I can think of is one I heard of in Canada. Some online churches developed for people who lived in very remote areas that have extreme winter weather. Those people can't get out and go to church then, even if there was one they could go to.
Anyway, sorry for the long response. This has been on my mind since you posted it, Rosslyn.
I find it encouraging that you're all are so thoughtful on this subject. I'm not surprised, given what I've heard from your own blogs on a number of interesting issues over the past few months. But it is good to be reminded that other people care very much about these things, too. We're not alone!
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