You Might Already Be a Digital Minister
It Might Not Be Optional
I watched a TikTok recently that stuck with me—though not for the reasons you’d expect. It featured a guy talking about “unethical side hustles.” His was going to Target, buying clearance art, painting over it with plaster, and reselling it as “depth art.”
He kept insisting, “I’m not an artist. That’s why it feels unethical.”
But the comment section lit up with truth:
“Sorry to tell you, dude—you’re an artist now.”
That struck a nerve.
Because I think we’ve got a similar thing happening in ministry.
The Accidental Digital Pastor
There’s this quote from a content creator named Arin Hanson that I’ve loved for years:
“If you create art, you’re an artist. If you animate, you’re an animator.”
Creation is the qualifier—not credential, not pedigree.
Practice is identity.
So here’s the punchline:
If you’re streaming sermons, hosting a Facebook Bible study, or praying with people on TikTok—sorry to tell you…
You’re a digital minister.
Whether or not you meant to be.
Whether or not you feel like one.
Whether or not it was just a pandemic thing.
You’re in it now.
So What Now?
The pandemic forced churches online. Many stumbled into digital ministry like that guy with the plaster—just trying something out. Hacking the system or taking advantage of the moment. And when the world reopened, a lot of churches packed up the cameras and went back to “real” church.
But there were people—real people—who met Jesus through those livestreams, chats, and reels. And too many of them were abandoned when the digital lights went out.
That’s not just an oversight. That’s a pastoral failure.
We created something real.
We created community.
And whether we meant to or not, we became shepherds.
And the people who found spiritual nourishment online? Many were simply left behind.
What began as a side project or emergency livestream became—without us realizing it—someone’s church. Someone’s lifeline. And we walked away.
Ministry in the Algorithmic Wild
I get it. It’s weird. It’s uncomfortable. It’s not what seminary prepared most of us for.
But if the Spirit can work through Paul’s letters, through Philip’s teleportation, and through a talking donkey…
Why not through fiber optic cables?
What if digital ministry isn’t a novelty or a placeholder, but a legitimate mission field?
What if it’s not a Plan B—but Plan A for reaching the next generation?
We don’t have to baptize bad tech practices. We don’t have to pretend everything digital is good. But we do have to stop pretending that online isn’t real, that communities aren’t forming there, and that we don’t have a role to play.
The same presence that compelled Paul to write letters across the ancient world… now compels us to enter the comments section. To build Discord servers. To preach on Twitch. To nurture on Substack.
The tools have changed. The mission hasn’t.
And if you’re online with the heart of a pastor, you’re not just dabbling. You’re ministering. You’re not waiting for permission. You’re being called.
The Weight of Glory (and Bandwidth)
Colossians 3:23 reminds us: “Whatever you do, do it for the Lord.”
So if you’re going to be online anyway—why not serve there with excellence?
If you’ve already stepped into the digital space, why not do it with intention and honor?
You might already be a digital minister.
And maybe—just maybe—you were always meant to be one.
World 3-11 Complete
Q: What’s the difference between a Twitch streamer and a televangelist?
A: A couple thousand dollars in camera equipment and the ability to say “hey chat” without irony.