All the Digital World a Parish: Social Media and Field Preaching

Photo by camilo jimenez on Unsplash

I remember when we first got internet in our home. I was just an elementary school kid at the time and my dad brought home this weird cube that plugged into the phone line upstairs. Apparently this strange box was called a modem and apparently it connected to this broader worldwide web of information. In those early days, I remember being able to access literally dozens of websites and chat on AOL instant messenger. I had a small library of information at my fingertips and all it took was firing up the modem and waiting a few minutes for the absurdly loud dial tones to do whatever it is they actually did (I still don’t know). 

We've come a long way from those early years. We’ve moved from dial-up modems to veritable supercomputers in our pockets – a trend unlikely to slow. One of the most ubiquitous uses of the internet, particularly in the United States, is social media. Pew research notes that in 2019, 72% of American adults used at least one social media site daily. This figure climbs to over 90% when younger age demographics are considered more narrowly. The volume of information and level of engagement available through social media is staggering. For instance, people can now read the personal and private thoughts of the President of the United States any time they want. My point is that the internet has become far more than just an add-on feature that some of us use. The internet, and particularly social media, has become an important space people inhabit in the course of their daily lives.

I’m certainly not the only person who has thought this way. Many churches and pastors have been seeking faithfully to engage people over the various social media for years now. Yet until very recently, church engagement with the online space was a luxury that could be ignored (perhaps unwisely). The response to the current pandemic across most of the US saw the evaporation of that luxury. In such an environment, pragmatism and industry “best practices”--the full implications of which may not be fully developed or realized--tend to drive praxis. Best practices are often “best” for a reason, and pragmatism is not inherently wrong. But… there inevitably comes a time for some much-needed reflection.

How can those of us in the local church think about how we engage our churches in the online world? What should we do when the world returns to “normal”? Is there a precedent or paradigm that might be helpful for us? While it may seem counterintuitive, I think John Wesley offers the church great wisdom for engagement in this digital space. Though his context and media were obviously very different from ours (I feel confident he did not use TikTok), his thoughts on his own ministry and calling offer us great wisdom. In particular, his approach to field preaching provides a lens for how we can engage a world increasingly disenchanted with and disconnected from the church, but in no less need of the Gospel. 

It should be noted that field preaching was not something John Wesley wanted to do. When George Whitfield wrote in March 1739 encouraging him to join the burgeoning work in Bristol, Wesley noted in his journal, “This I was not at all forward to do.” With such buoyant enthusiasm, John brought the matter before the Fetter Lane Society. Charles was adamantly against the practice. Other opinions were so mixed on the issue that the group drew straws to determine whether or not John would go to Bristol. He drew the short straw and left London the next day. After a few days observing Whitefield at work, Wesley reluctantly began a practice that would define his life in many respects for the next four decades. On April 2, 1739 he wrote: “At four in the afternoon, I submitted to be more vile, and proclaimed in the highways the glad tidings of salvation, speaking from a little eminence in a ground adjoining to the city, to about three thousand people.”

For a variety of cultural reasons, the practice was incredibly contentious throughout Wesley’s lifetime. While it would probably take a book to explore all of the reasons why this was the case, Wesley’s own internal struggles are, again, insightful. Reflecting on the practice he noted, “I could scarce reconcile myself at first to this strange way of preaching in the fields, of which he [Whitefield] set me an example on Sunday; having been all my life (till very lately) so tenacious of every point relating to decency and order, that I should have thought the saving of souls almost a sin, if it had not been done in a church.” Though such thoughts may seem ludicrous today, I think many of us can relate to the ever-persistent notion that the focal point of “real ministry” must be the local church building. 

To stretch my point slightly, I find it interesting that much of the dialogue among church leaders when it comes to digital ministry (for lack of a better term) is what counts as real ministry. Obviously, the thinking goes, all in-person ministry activity counts. But what about online? Is someone eating popcorn watching a sermon from his or her recliner actually “going to church”? What about a prayer meeting or small group meeting over Zoom? Does that count? How long must someone watch the YouTube recording of a worship service for it actually to matter? What about online communion? Is that even a thing? I’ve yet to hear anyone broach the idea of online baptism. I fear though, we can spend so much time arguing over what counts as real ministry that we’ll miss the potential harvest at our doorsteps. How many of us would say, “I should have thought the saving of souls almost a sin if it had been done online”? 

John Wesley wrestled through his own thoughts on the issue of field preaching in the face of substantial criticism. Never one to back down from answering a critic, Wesley penned these rather well-known words, “I look upon all the world as my parish; thus far I mean, that, in whatever part of it I am, I judge it meet, right, and my bounden duty, to declare unto all that are willing to hear, the glad tidings of salvation.”

Years later, in his Short History of the People Called Methodists, he shared a similar thought noting that field preaching made “a way for myriads of people who never troubled any church, nor were likely to do so, to hear that word which they soon found to be the power of God unto salvation.” In 1772, after over thirty years of the practice, Wesley noted, “To this day field-preaching is a cross to me. But I know my commission and see no other way of ‘preaching the Gospel to every creature.”

In 18th century England, the population lived and moved by the highways and street corners, graveyards and wharfs and mines. Those who did not have an abiding relationship with Christ (or a need to keep the social pretense) had little time or inclination for church buildings. What Wesley recognized over a lifetime of practice was that in order to fulfill his commission to preach the Gospel to all creatures, he needed to be around creatures on a regular basis. And creatures seemingly didn’t go to weekly worship. If they were to be engaged with the Gospel, someone needed to meet them in the course of their everyday lives, in the places where they actually gathered. Thus Wesley preached wherever he found himself, be it in fields or buildings or docks. 

While the online world is admittedly more nebulous, people are still gathering in this space every day: people in your church, people who know people from your church, people who tangentially know you because you sat beside them at your cousin’s wedding. And these people are in desperate need of Jesus. Behind every twitter handle or Instagram post or Facebook meme is a real person created in the image of God struggling with sin, addiction, relational brokenness, and existential questions. These people may not ever “trouble any church.” They may never plan to attend Sunday worship. But they are scrolling through their social media feed in a world that is increasingly frenetic, overly busy, and buckling under the seemingly unsolvable weight of systemic sin. If our world today is to be engaged with the Gospel, someone needs to meet them in the course of their everyday lives in the places where they actually gather.

At one level, this may mean churches and pastors need to shift their approach to social media. Perhaps the opportunity at our fingertips means more than marketing campaigns and ‘online worship’. Plenty of leaders much, much smarter than I seem to be engaging with the ideas of digital community and ministry in very helpful ways. And transparently, I really don’t know what the best approach to social media may be for churches. But I think that here again, Wesley is a useful example.

Why did Wesley keep preaching in the fields? After taking his fair share of insults, criticisms, rocks, and bottles, what drove him to keep it up? It’s clear that, at one level anyway, he didn’t love the practice; it was, as he wrote, “a cross to me.” Whatever else he may have been, John Wesley was a man whose heart was aflame with the love of God. He grew to be far more concerned with the power of godliness in his life than having any particular outward form that matched human expectations. He was passionate about individuals and the broader society encountering the person of Jesus and the power of the Holy Spirit in the course of their lives. 

Discussions over what is good and healthy and helpful in the online space are necessary. We cannot simply abandon solid theological principles in the name of "field preaching." Far from giving us license to do whatever we want online, Wesley's practice offers a model, translatable in the modern age, for drawing to faith in Christ many who would never darken the door of a church. Let us not miss the moment in which we find ourselves. How might the future of Methodism look different if we preachers genuinely saw it as our duty, in whatever part of the world we’re in (be it Facebook or Instagram or, yes, even TikTok), to declare unto all that are willing to hear the glad tidings of salvation? What might it mean for us if we saw our friends and followers as they too often are – harassed and helpless like sheep without a shepherd? How might our world look different if we saw all the world (including social media) as our parish? How might we live and preach and pray differently if we paused to see the people inside the profile pics, the names behind the handles, and the humanity beyond the digital façade? May all of us have eyes to see the world as Wesley did with the faith, courage, and conviction to match.

Steve Hopkins serves as the Pastor at Kendricks Creek UMC in Kingsport, TN.