In our own day, we might usefully ask whether the digital revolution of recent years will end up having a similarly disruptive impact on the religious landscape. Perhaps the terrain that we currently face is best described as the “wild west” of digital media, where new frontiers have to be navigated, and most safeguards available are only those of our own initiation.
Continuing legislative debates about regulation of access to pornography or social media are both examples of governments considering the need for a new kind of door, and the horse has long bolted.
The challenge for the Church is peculiarly complicated, not least owing to its long history. However attached we might be to certain established kinds of medium for our message, the preface to the Declaration of Assent describes our calling as “to proclaim afresh in each generation”.
This unavoidably includes determining how and whether to engage on a particular decade’s platform of choice, even while recognising that it may be dominant only briefly. Remember MSN Messenger or MySpace?
We are living in a curious in-between time, neither exclusively analogue nor wholly digital.
In many parishes, the regular magazine remains a valued printed document that fosters local community. In other churches, the use of paper to convey information is mostly a distant memory. Ofcom reports that 95 per cent of over-16s have access to the internet at home.
But the remaining five per cent cannot be disregarded by the Church in its communications; so we seek to adjust to a constantly changing, hybrid world.
TO BROWSE the Church of England website is to observe a curate’s egg of developments in response to this evolving digital landscape. The foundational question, with any kind of communication, is simply: whom is this for?
Perhaps inspired by St Paul (“I have become all things to all people, so that I might by any means save some”), the Church’s national website seeks simultaneously to serve the needs of wildly diverse “audiences”, but without easily meeting the needs of any given group.
One small example offers a window on the wider problem. It may be that, hitherto, I have missed the significance of the “Hyde Park Estate” in the mission of the C of E. A detailed page of information about it is available just two clicks from the homepage. That may not be overly problematic in itself, except that this information sits on a menu where it is given equal parity with “Our Cathedrals”.
Across its various menus, examples such as this abound: the website has become overgrown with different kinds of information, and now resembles a rampant bramble more than a carefully pruned vine.
It is worth noting how different this approach is in comparison with other national institutions.
The National Trust and the Royal Family, for example, have carefully curated websites that speak clearly to the general public rather than in-house volunteers or staff. You will not stumble across the pensions policy for the Royal Household, or regulations about how the National Trust approaches the closure of unpopular locations, on these public websites.
Since tabling a private member’s motion before the General Synod, requesting a review of the digital communications for which the national church institutions are responsible, I have received various messages in response. Much is appreciated: the Daily Prayer app and its recently enhanced audio receive particular praise.
But there are also many frustrations, identifying where the content and usability of digital output could be improved.
The website A Church Near You is a case in point: something that was adventurously pioneering in its early days is now showing its age. One vicar called it “simply awful . . . clunky, hard to use and really onerous to update. Should be completely overhauled.”
IN CALLING for a digital-communications review, my primary concern is to ensure that parish clergy and laypeople have easy access to the digital information and tools that they deserve. I remain amazed by how much time many clergy spend on the design and creation of orders of service, and yet easy access to digital liturgy remains elusive.
Meanwhile, some national initiatives, such as the “Church Organiser” materials, include excellent innovations, but they are often buried on sub-menus that a parish administrator might overlook. The question what training those who post on behalf of the national Church receive is another cause for concern.
Ultimately, this is a mission question. At a time when Bible sales are up, and spiritual searching seems to be in vogue, can we really say that someone exploring Christian faith is well-served by our digital output? Or how about the time-poor churchwarden trying to publicise a new church initiative? Or the incumbent simply hoping to find next Sunday’s liturgy?
The digital dimension of church life is now a present reality in almost all contexts. A strategic review of this output could help the Church to communicate with greater clarity, aiding its unavoidable digital mission.