Loving Boldy, Serving Joyfully, Leading Courageously... Online
A Response to the UMC’s New Vision Statement
The Council of Bishops recently unveiled a new guiding vision for The United Methodist Church (UMC), and it caught my attention more than I expected. The phrasing is aspirational, and familiar; fresh, and historic.
“Love boldly. Serve joyfully. Lead courageously.”
Reminiscent of Micah 6:8, it’s the kind of three-part refrain that sticks with you long after the press release closes. It’s good. Maybe even great.
Oh, by the way, if you’re reading this and not UMC—don’t check out.
There’s something here for you, too. This kind of vision, while denominational in branding, is spiritual in scope. To be reminded to love, serve, and lead is an invitation for all of us trying to figure out what it means to follow Jesus in 2025.
The Tension Beneath the Tagline
Here’s the kicker: great vision only matters if the whole body dares to see with it.
For those of us laboring in the digital vineyard—on Discord, on Twitch, on TikTok—this new vision reads like an open door (another historic Methodist catchphrase). Yet I find myself approaching with some trepidation. For all the beauty of this new vision, I’m left wondering: does the Church mean to include those of us called to the digital mission field?
When the statement says “worldwide connections,” is that metaphorical or missional?
Because if we’re serious about forming disciples “in local communities and worldwide connections,” then we cannot afford to treat digital ministry like a side hustle or pandemic relic. We have to stop talking about digital spaces as if they’re lesser, experimental, or somehow adjacent to the “real” church.
They are real.
They are happening.
They cannot be ignored.
The relationships formed through shared gameplay, livestreamed prayers, and online Bible study are not hypothetical. There is no argument beyond ‘nuh uh’ that discipleship is happening online.
The faith journeys unfolding in Twitch raids and YouTube comments are as holy as those whispered in sanctuary pews.
I’ve seen vulnerability in private DMs.
I’ve heard confession in livestream chat.
I’ve witnessed resurrection moments when someone says, “I didn’t think a church would welcome someone like me—but then I found you.”
A Spirit-Breathed Challenge
I serve a church that was only ever online.
It didn’t pivot to digital—it was born there; molded by it, Batman. And I can tell you this with confidence: bold love doesn’t need brick and mortar.
Joyful service translates just fine through a webcam.
And leading courageously? That sometimes looks like moderating a chatroom full of skeptics and saints alike. Or preaching a message that gets algorithmically shadowbanned. Or building something out of nothing—no building, no choir, no budget—because you believe the Gospel deserves to be heard in every corner of the digital world.
I believe this vision from the Council is genuine.
I believe it’s Spirit-breathed.
But I also believe it will only matter if the Church is willing to live into it fully—including in the messy, unpredictable, boundary-breaking world of digital ministry.
That means resourcing it. That means affirming it. That means commissioning leaders who might not look like your typical pastor, who might preach from a desk instead of a pulpit, and whose congregation might be scattered across three continents and five time zones.
So, here’s my ask: as we seek to love boldly, serve joyfully, and lead courageously—may we not flinch when that calling leads us into places we don’t fully understand.
May we resist the temptation to measure ministry by square footage or Sunday attendance.
May we bless the new things God is doing, even when they emerge through screens instead of steeples.
Because walls don’t bind the Kingdom of God, nor should we be.
World 3-9 Complete
Q: How do you know if a church is truly embracing digital ministry?
A: When the Wi-Fi password is a part of the mission statement.
Baptist here to shout an ecumenical amen!