Week 39: The Body of Christ Online

Who: Me, Myself, and I

Church: Red Bank and The Point Church

Lunch: Our Airbnb in Pikesville, Tennessee

Topic: Is “online church” an oxymoron?

Online churches surged in popularity during the pandemic. As in-person gatherings were restricted, many congregations transitioned to virtual services to maintain community and worship. As restrictions eased, in-person attendance began to rebound and by May 2023, 26% of U.S. adults attended religious services in person, while virtual attendance decreased to 5%.  This indicates a preference among many for the traditional, communal aspects of worship.*

While two-thirds of those who regularly attend virtually report being “extremely” or “very” satisfied with online services, only 28% feel a strong connection to fellow worshipers.* This underscores the tension many people experience and the frustration many others express:

What is the purpose of the Sunday morning service?

I think most of us will agree that church isn’t about a building; it’s about a community of people committed to following Jesus. I will go a step further and say that the gathering of the church is about creating space to be shaped—together—by worship, teaching, service, and authentic relationships. It’s where we’re reminded of who God is, who we are, and what it means to live out the way of Jesus in a world that often pushes against it. In theory, it’s not just about consuming content or checking a spiritual box—it’s about showing up for one another, being transformed in community, and carrying that transformation into our everyday lives.

There are a lot of strings I could pull here, and maybe I will pull on more of them over the next three months. (Today’s post means I’m 75% through this little experiment.) But, for now, I want to focus on the tension points:

  • Incarnation vs. Information: Jesus came in the flesh, so some argue that church should reflect that physical, embodied reality.
  • Accessibility vs. Accountability: Online formats increase access (for the sick, disabled, isolated), but can decrease spiritual accountability and depth of connection.
  • Community vs. Consumption: Are we participating in the life of a church, or consuming content like a podcast?

Incarnation vs. Information: Why Embodied Community Still Matters

At the heart of Christianity is the Incarnation— Jesus came in person, in the flesh, and dwelt among us. His ministry wasn’t abstract or theoretical—it was deeply personal, physical, and rooted in human experience. He touched the sick, shared meals with strangers, wept with friends, and walked miles alongside his disciples. That embodied presence was central to how he revealed God’s love.

So when we talk about what church is meant to be, many argue that it should reflect that same incarnational reality—not just transferring information about Jesus, but modeling his way of being with people.

This doesn’t mean digital resources, online sermons, or Zoom small groups are inherently bad or unspiritual. They can serve powerful purposes—especially for people who are homebound, marginalized, or living in spiritual deserts. But if we reduce church to just information we consume—one-way teaching, disembodied worship, a curated online experience—we risk missing something vital: presence. The awkward, beautiful, sometimes inconvenient realness of being with other people in a room. In an age of endless content and screens, maybe the most countercultural, Christlike thing we can do is to show up. Physically. Consistently. Incarnationally.

Accessibility vs. Accountability in Online Church

One of the greatest strengths of online church is accessibility. For people who are homebound due to illness, disability, caregiving responsibilities, or social anxiety, digital services offer a lifeline—an invitation to stay connected to a faith community when showing up in person simply isn’t possible. It can also serve as a bridge for those exploring faith or recovering from spiritual trauma, providing a lower-barrier entry point into communal worship. In this sense, online church reflects a deep compassion, extending the reach of the gospel in ways that were once unimaginable.

But with that accessibility comes a potential trade-off: accountability.

Church isn’t just about watching a sermon. At its core, it’s about being formed in community—practicing forgiveness, sharing burdens, and being sharpened through real relationships. These are hard to replicate when your primary connection to the body of Christ is a screen and a live chat.

I also think it’s important to note that attending an in-person “church” doesn’t inherently equate to these things. There’s a strong argument to be made this also doesn’t exist in many traditional church settings either.

Regardless, when church becomes something we consume rather than a community we participate in, spiritual depth can suffer. There’s no one to ask the hard questions, to notice when you’re drifting, or to challenge you when your life doesn’t reflect your faith. It becomes easier to hide, to disengage, or to simply watch passively without engaging in transformation.

So while online church meets a real need—and absolutely has a place in our modern expressions of faith—we must ask how we’re reinforcing connection and accountability in those digital spaces. Accessibility and accountability aren’t enemies, but holding both in tension is essential for a church that both reaches people and roots them.

Community vs. Consumption: Is Church Something We Join or Just Something We Watch?

We live in a culture built on consumption. Streaming platforms serve us curated content 24/7. Podcasts, audiobooks, newsletters, and even spiritual resources are on demand—tailored to our preferences, available at our convenience, and consumable in isolation. So it’s no surprise that this mentality has crept into how we approach church.

When we reduce church to something we watch—a sermon on YouTube, a worship set on Instagram, a Bible verse in our feed—we risk turning something meant to be participatory and communal into something passive and individualistic.

We consume rather than commune. We observe rather than engage.

But the church was never meant to function like a podcast or a weekly broadcast. It’s not a spiritual TED Talk. To participate in the life of a church means to show up and be known—to offer your gifts, your presence, your voice, your story. It means being a part of something that shapes you, even when it’s uncomfortable or costly.

So the real question isn’t “Did I enjoy that sermon?” or “Did the music move me?” The question is: Am I being formed by community, or just entertained by content?

Church was never meant to be consumed. It was always meant to be lived.

And the hard truth is very simple, attending an in-person service on Sunday mornings doesn’t mean we’re living it either. We can sit in a pew, sing the songs, nod along to a sermon—and still remain disconnected, guarded, unchanged.

Living as the church means engaging with others beyond the sanctuary walls. It means pursuing relationships that sharpen us, serving in ways that stretch us, and choosing presence even when it’s inconvenient. It means asking hard questions, embracing accountability, and walking with people through joy and grief—not just for an hour on Sunday, but in the everyday.

So yes, online church has its limitations. But so does in-person attendance when we treat it like just another task to check off.

Church is not a product we consume or a building we visit.
It’s a people we belong to, a mission we step into, and a way of life we embody—together.

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