By Jude Eze
Since the convocation of the Second Vatican Ecumenical Council (October 11, 1962 — December 8, 1965), more commonly called Vatican II, the Catholic Church can safely be described as a cosmopolitan conservative institution. This phrase, which I coined here, captures the Church’s enduring wisdom: while holding steadfastly to Her timeless traditions, She moves with the world at Her own divinely guided pace—cautiously, prayerfully, and prudently—so as not to be influenced by the very world She is sent to evangelize.
It was in this spirit that some great theologians remarked that the Church must be careful “not to marry any generation, lest She become a widow in the next.” The Church, destined for eternal beatitude, stands superior to the fleeting whims of time. It is divine prudence not to cling to the ephemerals while on a mission to the eternal.
Fifty-two years after the great Council closed its doors, having produced sixteen transformative documents (four constitutions, nine decrees, and three declarations) that shaped Her modern outlook, the world ushered in the new millennium, the year 2000. It was an epochal dawn that redefined the face of human communication.
Digitisation burst upon the scene like lightning, altering the way people lived, worked, and worshipped. The analogue era yielded to a digital civilization. Physical presence gave way to virtual interaction. Facebook arrived in 2004, YouTube in 2005, Twitter (now X) in 2006, WhatsApp in 2009, and Instagram in 2010. Within a decade, humanity was catapulted into a frenzied competition for visibility and validation on social media. Before one could finish reading Psalm 46:10, a million new users had created profiles.
Some asked, “Will the Church join the bandwagon?” “Yes,” some answered, “She has no option.”
“No,” others retorted, “She need not bother. Remember, She never bows to popular opinions; She stood firm against homosexuality, artificial contraception, capital punishment, and abortion.”
But history reminds us that the Church has always used legitimate means to reach the people where they are—not to be conformed to them, but to transform them. From Pope Pius XI, who inaugurated Vatican Radio on February 12, 1931, to Pope Pius XII, who in 1949 became the first Pontiff to appear and preach on television, the Church has always embraced the communication tools of every age to proclaim the Gospel of Christ.
While lay circles debated whether the Church should join the new media wave, the Vatican was already studying it carefully. Then came December 12, 2012—a defining moment. Pope Benedict XVI made history when he tweeted from his iPad during a general audience: “Dear friends, I am pleased to get in touch with you through Twitter. Thank you for your generous response. I bless all of you from my heart.”
The @Pontifex handle was launched in eight languages. In that single act, social media platforms found new legitimacy. The Church had entered the digital square, not to chase trends, but to ensure that salus animarum (the salvation of souls) remained the ultimate goal of evangelization. An ipso facto digital pulpit was, by that single message, created.
Since that historic tweet, the digital mission field has expanded rapidly. Many Catholic faithful—clergy and laity alike—have taken to social media to spread the Gospel. Yet, this blessing also bears its burdens.
The challenge lies in the absence of ecclesiastical oversight on user-generated content. Everyone becomes a self-appointed tele-evangelist, publishing teachings and opinions that may not be subjected to doctrinal review. Each subscriber becomes his own bishop, granting his own Nihil Obstat and Imprimatur.
Consequently, the faithful, especially the uninformed, risk exposure to doctrinal and moral confusion. Thankfully, many Nigerian Catholic priests have risen to this challenge, using their platforms to shine the light of authentic Catholic teaching amid the digital noise.
However, another subtle danger lurks—the temptation of self-promotion. In the quest for online relevance, some clerics inadvertently shift attention from Christ, the true subject of evangelization, to themselves. Social media is a seductive space; it rewards visibility, not necessarily virtue. Followers of these priests are multiplying by the thousands, and (if care is not taken) before long, the line between genuine evangelization and personal branding will begin to blur.
Recently, a priest with over 500,000 online followers posted a video of his pilgrimage to the Basilica of the Most Holy Trinity, Onitsha. The caption of the clip was edifying—an invitation to the faithful to visit the sacred site. Yet, the video showed him walking through the nave with earphones plugged in.
One of the viewers, in a sincere comment, observed that it was inappropriate to wear earpieces in a house of prayer, especially as a public figure of faith. Rather than correcting the oversight or urging charity among his followers, the priest “liked” the derisive responses hurled at the commenter by his sycophantic fans.
The incident, though minor, reveals a major concern. A priest’s conduct, online or offline, ought to mirror the humility of John the Baptist, who, despite attracting multitudes, was humble enough to point his followers to the Messiah when He came, saying: “He (Christ) must increase, and I (His forerunner) must decrease” (John 1:29; 3:30).
If the herald of the Messiah could step aside for Christ to shine, how much more should today’s digital evangelists? The priesthood is not a brand to market, nor is the pulpit—digital or physical—a stage for self-exaltation.
Social media offers the Church unprecedented opportunities to reach the farthest corners of the world. It can be a new Areopagus, a vibrant mission field where the Gospel meets the modern mind. But evangelizers, especially priests, must tread with holy caution.
The Church’s doctrines remain unchanging even in an ever-changing world. Technology must serve theology, not the other way around. The medium may evolve, but the message—Christ crucified and risen—must remain pure and free from the vanity of self-display.
Every Catholic priest who takes up the smartphone as a tool of evangelization must remember: the goal is not to trend, but to transform; not to entertain, but to enlighten; not to build a fan base, but to build faith.
In that way, our online altars will remain as sacred as our physical sanctuaries, and our screens will reflect only the light of Christ, not the glare of ego; for humility, not hype, is the truest mark of holiness.
Jude Eze, a public affairs analyst wrote from Enugu.
