Everything, Everywhere, All the Time

The Encompassing Reality of Leading a Digital Church

One of the most surprising things about the digital church is that there’s no backroom.

No coffee hour, no post-service huddle in the hallway, no whispered side conversations in the fellowship hall.

Everything is visible, all the time, to everyone.

In a brick-and-mortar church, there are layers to communication.

Some things get said publicly.
Some things get said over coffee.
Some things never make it past a knowing glance between friends.

But in a digital church, every conversation, every question, every venting session, every well-meaning but theologically shaky sentiment is posted for all to see.

And if you’re the pastor in that space? You’re seeing all of it—or at least, people assume you are.

I had to learn early on that just because I can see something doesn’t mean it’s for me.

That’s worth repeating—just because I can see something doesn’t mean it’s for me.

That’s a weird mental shift. I get it. When someone posts something in Discord or a livestream chat, I might be tagged, I might not. Either way, I have to ask myself:

Is this actually directed at me, or am I just witnessing it?

Do I need to respond, or would stepping in create more tension than trust?

Am I acting as a pastor right now, or would my presence make me feel more like Big Brother?

The challenge is that while I have developed boundaries around that, not everyone in our community has. So when I don’t respond to something, people sometimes take it personally. They assume I don’t care. They assume I’m avoiding them. Or avoiding something that they believe I should address.

In reality, I’m trying to respect privacy, autonomy, and the natural flow of conversation.

Relearning How to “See” in Digital Ministry

Part of leading a digital church is retraining your brain.

In a brick-and-mortar church, you can overhear something and know instinctively, Oh, that’s just two people venting. That’s not my moment to step in. But in an online space, nothing goes unheard, and the audience isn’t just you—it’s the whole community.

It’s weirdly easy to slip into a mindset where you think every message, every struggle, every argument needs your pastoral touch. But that’s a trap.

A big part of digital leadership is recognizing:

1. Not everything needs your input. Sometimes, people need a place to say something out loud. People will stop being honest if I act like a moderator instead of a pastor.

2. Not everything is for you to fix. People don’t always need a pastor; sometimes, they need a friend.

3. Not everything is worth debating in the moment. Just because you could step in with theological clarity doesn’t mean it’s the right time.

This last one is a big one. And probably the most challenging for those who haven’t done the work of boundary-setting.

A while back, someone in our prayer request channel poured their heart out—really laid it all out there. They added one of those well-meaning but not well-exegeted Christian phrases at the end: “God never gives us more than we can handle.”

Now, I know (and have talked about) how that kind of thinking can be unhelpful. However, that’s not the moment to interject with a, “Well, actually, let’s break down where that comes from and the author’s intent.”

Stop. Don’t give in to that temptation.

The time for that conversation exists—but not in that moment.

Maybe you are around the same digital spaces that I am and can recall the news story from a few years ago where a streamer admonished a person in his chat for ‘bringing down the mood’ with news about their mother’s death.

The streamer wasn’t necessarily wrong—the mood likely did shift. But that person needed something different than a usual Twitch chat at the time, and the Church could have (and should have) been present for that person in a way that a random streamer cannot provide.

It might help to understand the parasocial side of things to understand why the Church could be different and better at moments like these.

In both of these examples, the job is to show up with compassion, not correction. But we don’t get there without thinking through our boundaries first.

Autonomy Is a Necessary Skill, Not a Given

In a traditional church, autonomy isn’t something that most people have to think about. There’s a natural rhythm to how conversations happen. People instinctively know what’s “for the pastor” and what’s just between friends. And if a conflict arises? Well, maybe the leadership gets involved—or maybe it just resolves itself over lunch next week.

But in digital church, there’s no such buffer. Everything is happening in real-time, and the temptation is to assume that if the pastor doesn’t step in, nothing will get resolved.

That’s not a sustainable way to lead. And more importantly, it’s not a healthy way to build trust in a community.

So one of the biggest lessons I’ve had to learn (and relearn, and relearn again) is this: My job isn’t to be in every conversation—it’s to create a culture where I don’t have to be.

That means:

• Giving people space to express themselves without feeling like leadership is watching their every move.

• Allowing people to be wrong sometimes, rather than jumping in with corrections every time someone misquotes scripture.

• Trusting that not every discussion needs to be mediated just because it’s happening in a public channel.

• Most importantly, creating space specifically for these types of interactions.

It’s tough. There’s a deep-seated expectation (especially in church spaces) that leadership is always supposed to have a hand in what’s going on. But in the digital church, stepping in too much actually erodes trust instead of building it.

Consider that Jesus answered questions of the Pharisees when asked, but rarely entered their space with correction—it was the sick He came for, not the healthy (tongue-in-cheek or not).

Trust, Power, and the “Watcher” Effect

The hardest part of digital pastoring is knowing that trust is built differently here.

There’s an unspoken assumption in most online communities that everyone trusts each other equally. But that’s not true. People come in with different baggage, histories, and expectations of what church leadership should look like.

And when you’re the leader in the space, you carry power—whether you intend to or not. The moment you step into a conversation, the energy shifts. If I respond too quickly, too often, or too strongly, I risk becoming an intimidating presence instead of a supportive one.

No one wants to be vulnerable in a space where they feel constantly monitored or judged.

So I’ve had to remind myself: Just because I can see everything doesn’t mean I should act on everything.

I’ve seen it happen before. The moment a space starts to feel like it’s under surveillance, the authenticity dies. People stop sharing their struggles. They start second-guessing themselves before they post. They hesitate before jumping into conversations because they’re afraid of saying the wrong thing.

It’s a balance.

A digital church requires proactive leadership but also restraint. It requires engagement but also trusting your community to navigate things without you.

The work isn’t easy.

But if the digital church is going to be a healthy space, it has to be one where people can be honest—even when they’re messy, even when they’re wrong, even when they’re still figuring things out.

At the end of the day, leadership in digital church isn’t about control—it’s about trust. It’s about creating a space where people feel free to be honest, to be messy, to be in process. And that only happens when they know they won’t be micromanaged.

The reality is: I can’t be everywhere, all the time. And I shouldn’t be. A church that only functions when the pastor is present isn’t a healthy church.

So, the goal isn’t to be the center of everything—it’s to build a community where people take ownership. Where trust runs deep enough that people don’t need constant oversight. Where leadership knows when to step in and when to step back.

Because at the end of the day, a digital church isn’t just a platform—it’s a people.

And people thrive when they’re given the space to grow.

World 3-6 Complete

Q: Why should you never argue with the internet?
A: Because it never forgets… and always caches in your mistakes!