The Presbytery of Twitter: Introduction

(This is the introduction to a book I am writing. It is a very rough draft, so please share your honest comments and questions.)

In September of 2011, I started an Internet project called “The Presbytery of Twitter,” or @PresbyTwit as it is known to its followers. Born on a whim and with very low expectations, my venture was described on its profile as “an experimental, not-so-serious body of online believers.” This description has turned out to be quite ironic. As I begin to write this book, the Presbytery of Twitter has attracted more than 400 church professionals from a variety of positions and denominations for discussions on some of the most practical and challenging topics of the day.

The idea arose during an ordinary conversation on Twitter with a ministry colleague known as @jazzpastord. I had just returned from a meeting of the Presbytery of the Peaks in Farmville, a sleepy town in southern Virginia about an hour from my home in Clarksville. A presbytery is a regional governing body of Presbyterian churches that meets three or four times a year.

@revjimmoss Once again, returning from presbytery filled with frustration.

@jazzpastord What is so frustrating?

@revjimmoss We just sit there, listening to endless committee reports, or arguing about the latest hot-button issue.

@jazzpastord You don’t think those things are important?

@revjimmoss I do. But I wish we could do more.

@jazzpastord Like what?

@revjimmoss I don’t know. But I almost never come home with something practical to help me in my church.

@jazzpastord Then stop complaining and do something about it.

The conversation was cut short by my ringing phone, and when I returned to my laptop, @jazzpastord was gone – apparently called away by a real world demand of her own. But the damage was done. Her challenge to be the change I wanted to see struck a deep chord.

That night, as I lay in bed, my frustrations swirled around in my brain. I thought about how much of what we do in the institutional church is hopelessly anachronistic. As Chapter 1 describes, the current model of how we organize meetings and make decisions is suited perfectly for the needs of the 19th-century church, when travel was slow and the only option for communication was the US Postal Service. In the Internet age, using this model is like a CPA refusing to buy a computer and continuing to operate on the old ledger system.

But inefficiency wasn’t my real complaint. As I had told @jazzpastord, I was longing for something practical to take home for my congregational ministry. Occasionally, a useful morsel falls from the table of committee reports and contentious debates. Normally, however, the best conversation occurs in small groups during breaks and at lunch – which is what I realized that night as I recalled the meeting in Farmville and my subsequent griping on Twitter.

Many presbyteries have begun to understand this dynamic and now intentionally structure small-group discussion into their meetings. In chapter 2, I will contend that such efforts are a good start, but fail to address the deeper needs that online communities are beginning to meet. Using my experience with The Presbytery of Twitter, and the fascinating stories of Virtuous Abbey and the 1st Presbyterian Church of Second Life, I will show how the Internet offers some tantalizing possibilities for fellowship and mutual support that traditional gatherings cannot.

In chapter 3, I will go a step further and explore the idea that formal church bodies could organize and operate exclusively in the online world. Using the new Presbyterian Book of Order as well as the constitutional documents of other denominations, I will raise questions about the polity and practicality of making the jump to virtual church.

On that fateful September night, however, I had not yet followed the train that far down the tracks. When the idea first entered my brain, it was nothing more than a desire to create online what I wished I could find at an actual presbytery meeting. That is where I got the notion to call it a presbytery – a rather strange notion, since all that I had in mind was a fellowship group with more structured conversations than are normally found on Twitter. But I have become convinced that naming the group as if it were a church governing body is what has allowed it to be successful.

The next morning, when I logged onto Twitter and created the @PresbyTwit account, I invited about 30 colleagues that I either knew personally or had met on Twitter. @jazzpastord was the first to leave a comment, making the statement that this was “the first non-geographic presbytery.”

I’m still not sure if she was being serious, but the comment dislodged something in my mind. Suddenly, I began to see The Presbytery of Twitter as potentially more than a discussion group. I envisioned a new reality in the way the church organizes itself, as if a body with actual ecclesiastical authority could form itself through social media. Congregations have already been formed online. That is nothing new. But I wondered if anyone had ever tried to start something like a virtual presbytery – a body that governs and supports a group of congregations, agencies, schools, and church professionals.

In chapter 4, I will give a brief overview of how church organization has evolved since the first disciples of Jesus were called together. Throughout its history, new forms of church have sprung forth unexpectedly in response to an ever-changing world. Then, I will argue that not only does the 21st century church have the opportunity to organize in a radically new way on the Internet – but that it must do so in order to thrive and survive.

But again, on the day The Presbytery of Twitter was born, I was not thinking such expansive thoughts. I was merely trying to get my friends excited about joining me in this experiment. After 24 hours, I was thrilled that 27 of them had followed @PresbyTwit. Buoyed by the “first non-geographic presbytery” designation, I logged on for the second day determined to make the experience as much like a real presbytery meeting as possible. Naturally, I assumed the role of moderator.

Without even making a conscious decision, I began to operate under Robert's Rules of Order, with a few modifications. Someone could make a motion. If that motion was seconded, there would be a time for discussion and then a vote. The difference came in the timing.

In a physical meeting space, everyone has the chance to hear and respond to comments in an immediate sense. It is the role of the moderator to determine when the discussion is complete (or for someone to call the question). Twitter, however, is a medium where people come and go with quite a bit of inconsistency. Some users seem to live on the site, with tweets appearing throughout the day. Others might check in just once a day. In chapter 5, I will explore several ways in which the nature of online communication will necessitate some immediate changes in church practice – including the paradoxical notion that virtual decision-making might require a slower process.

I proposed a 24-hour window for discussion of a motion, followed by a 24-hour window for voting. Hearing no objections, I suggested that our first order of business be to create a profile picture. Before long, @MamaTina posted a striking image of the Twitter bird perched on the Presbyterian Church (USA) logo. It was seconded, and we began the 24-hour discussion period. The next morning, by a vote of 15 to 7, we had our first official profile pic – which was later replaced by the current pic (created by @AnwothWill) due to copyright concerns.

By the end of day 3, I was thrilled with both the number of followers – more than 50 – and with the fact that people were buying into the idea. What was developing was something vaguely like a presbytery meeting, but also quite different. There was discussion of church-related topics; there were a lot of ideas and constructive criticism; there was voting; and there were even a few folks who announced that they no longer wished to participate. Most importantly, there was that sense of palpable excitement that comes with exploring new territory.

In chapter 6, I examine the concept of exploration and map-making as a metaphor for church in the 21st-century. This metaphor has already been used for community-based church ministries by authors like Alan Roxburgh, but I will expand it for the shift to the Internet. I will show how this leap is less like exploring new terrain on earth and more like travelling to an entirely new planet, where the bulk of accumalted knowledge is obsolete and most of the rules have changed.

It did not take long for us to realize that running a governing body on Twitter is like travelling to a different planet. After the success of choosing a profile pic, we had an equally easy time coming up with a slogan. @robjacksonIV suggested, “It’s all good in the Presbyhood” – remember, we were trying to be “not-so-serious” - and the vote 24 hours later (on day 4) was nearly unanimous. The discussion of this motion, however, signaled that the process might be short-lived.

Some rumblings began to emerge that I was not strictly following Robert’s Rules. As can happen in an actual meeting, the climate deteriorated quickly. It was all in good fun, but I was amazed at how art began to mirror reality. I found myself, much like an actual moderator, parsing matters of substitute motions and calls for the question. At one point, the conversation resembled a Monty Python skit mocking parliamentary procedure, and I was more than grateful when a motion to abandon Robert’s Rules floated up into the chaos.

When this motion passed near the end of the first week, it represented what I believe to be the most significant moment of the entire experiment. Letting go of the church's long-held standard practice for governing a meeting indicated that we felt free to let go of a lot of other standard practices as well. It also allowed us to stop bickering and start focusing on what has become the core function of The Presbytery of Twitter: great discussions on the challenges facing the 21st century church.

In chapter 7, I will contend that Robert’s Rules of Order are among the many anachronistic practices that the church should reconsider. Not only are these rules unworkable in a format like Twitter, they are not conducive to the consensus-building style of decision-making that is gaining popularity. In an era when commissioners to a presbytery had little contact with one another between meetings, Robert’s Rules ensured that a lot of business could be conducted in a short period of time – a concern which dissolves in the new reality of the Internet.

With Robert’s Rules abandoned, The Presbytery of Twitter adopted the consensus style of decision-making. As we moved into our second week of existence, I challenged the followers – who were now approaching 100 in number – to suggest actions we could take. I had a number of possibilities in mind, such as recruiting new followers, electing officers, and making official communication with other church bodies.

We did arrange for “full communion” with @ekklesiaawesome, another not-so-serious church body that has formed on Twitter, but the experiment had lost the excited edginess of the first week. The followers seemed curious about what I would do next, and I did receive some good advice from some other virtual church pioneers (thank you, @MeredithGould and @mbmccandless). But I was unsuccessfully trying to encourage others to take leadership roles, and no one had any new suggestions for where to go next. I began to think that the Presbytery of Twitter was winding down. If nothing else, it would make for an interesting blog post.

In chapter 8, I will speak to the realities of life on the digital frontier. Rarely do things develop the way we think they should. Patience and humility are the key virtues. As the church steps out into the unknown realm of online organization, we will be relying more intensely on the Holy Spirit and the mystery of its guidance than we have in generations.

If nothing else, this experiment has taught me that the Spirit is in charge. I’d like to say that on that fateful September night, I planned it all out. I’d like to say that I crafted an action plan, set goals for growing the list of followers, and carefully charted out new developments like the Twinterview and the confessional constitution. I’d like to say that each of the wonderful conversations that have brought me laughter, insights, and new friends from all over the world are part of some grand design that I’m slowly unfolding. But I can't.

When I think of The Presbytery of Twitter and how completely unplanned it has been; when I think about how it has grown and what it has come to mean to me and many others; when I think about our followers who have hungered for same type of connection I have hungered for; and when I think about what this little experiment teaches us about the future of the church – I feel amazingly humbled and blessed. Given the circumstances, it could only be the work of the Spirit that has brought about this community and this sense of hope and common purpose.

The final two chapters of this book will look beyond the horizon to where the Internet and social media in particular will take the church in the longer view. Sites like Twitter and Facebook are the current realities, but five years ago, very few people even knew what they are. In another five years, everything is likely to have changed again. There is absolutely no way we can imagine what the reality will be at the end of the 21st century and beyond. Nevertheless, what practices can the church adopt today to make sure that the Spirit continues to move in new and exciting ways?

Confession: I am not at all a computer person. My laptop is the most advanced piece of equipment I own, and I don't even have Internet access in my home - which is why you will rarely find me on Twitter after 5:00 pm. I have even done a fair amount of writing that warns against becoming too dependent on technology. I am the last person that anyone would expect to be an online church pioneer. It seems ridiculous for me to even type those words. But here I am, and here is The Presbytery of Twitter. Praise be to God!

My hope for this book is simple: To share an amazing experience that I have been having; to analyze how this experience speaks to the current reality of the church; and to dream about how we can begin to answer some of the tantalizing questions that are being raised.

5 Reasons Churches Should Have A Greater Online Presence

1. More Thorough Evangelism – We can reach people who would never come to a physical church building.

I’ve had many fascinating conversations in blogs and online chat rooms about faith. Some were with angry people interested only in attacking Christianity – but many others have been with people who are genuinely seeking faith, but for various reasons will never feel comfortable walking into an actual church sanctuary.

2. More Open and Honest Communication – Many people who already attend a church can have more meaningful interactions online.

I have had a number of counseling sessions through Internet chats with youth who barely recognize my existence at the physical church building. For many, the mediation of a digital screen is a boost to communication.

3. Reaching an Overscheduled and Transient Culture – People who can’t be physically present on a consistent basis can keep up and contribute through the Internet.

Two of the biggest challenges for 21st-century churches are people who are too busy or who don’t live long enough in one place to make a significant commitment. To me, this is at least as big an issue as declining membership.

There is a wonderful young couple who has started attending my church, but they are not getting very involved because they both work long hours, and his career requires them to move about every two years. If my church offered more ways for them to interact online, they would be more active. They might even be able to maintain a relationship with one church as their physical residence moved.

4. More Frequent Contact– People who might see one another once or twice a week at the physical church can interact online on a daily basis.

Most churches already use email, which has greatly simplified communication patterns – and many have begun to share prayer concerns and other more personal faith matters through the Internet. But much more could be done.

I use Twitter several times a day to communicate with friends and colleagues all over the world – and feel much more intimately connected to them than I do to people I might see at Sunday worship and maybe once more during the week.

5. More Accesible Leadership – Pastors and other church leaders can have direct contact with more people and be more responsive to concerns and questions.

Consider the pre-20th century church in the United States – before automobiles and telephones were common. The average member, especially in the more rural areas where most people lived, might see a circuit-riding minister once a month – and that involved no more contact than shaking his hand on the way out of worship. For many, the only true interaction with clergy came on the occasion of a wedding, baptism, or funeral.

Even in the 21st century, many conventional pastors have limited daily contact. In my previous church, almost all interaction was face-to-face – usually in the form of a time-consuming home or hospital visit. Using the tools of the Internet, a pastor or other church leader can be in touch with an exponentially greater amount of people – and can respond to concerns and requests much more quickly.

For example: Through a quick series of emails, I have helped resolve issues that committee chairs have brought to me that might have taken weeks to negotiate by playing phone tag.

5 Reasons Churches Should Be Cautious About Online Interactions

1) There Is No Virtual Equivalent For A Good Hug

2) It’s More Difficult To Understand Emotions And Communicate Empathy Through An Online Conversation

A sign at a local pharmacy cautions customers against using online prescription services, claiming that being able to physically see the person helps a pharmacist make a judgment. The same principle applies to pastors and online interaction.

For example: If a church member sends me a quick email and says, “I just found out that my father has died. I’m doing OK, and there’s a lot to take care of. I’ll call you when I get back from the funeral.” – I might take it at face value and not give a visit. Or, I might understand that seeing her face-to-face will reveal much more about her emotional state. In my experience, that visit is greatly needed and appreciated. Digital communication might enhance the process of pastoral care, but it is impossible to show the proper level of concern and empathy for a grieving person solely through the Internet.

3) Online Messages Can Be Misunderstood

A quick email or tweet is sent off, intended as a joke or an innocent observation – but the other person suddenly goes silent, or even shoots back an angry response. He or she is offended, because what is read and understood is much different than what the writer intended. Online, there is no such thing as tone, body language, or facial expression – things which help communicate much of what we say face-to-face.

Often, it takes a face-to-face conversation to repair the damage. In the case of delicate pastoral work, where the person might be hurt or angry to begin with, this kind of misunderstanding might never be resolved.

4) The Digital Divide Has The Potential To Exclude

For a variety of reasons – age, economic status, or personal preference – many people in the United States still do not use the Internet. Even if a church is careful to balance online and traditional communication, those who are not active participants in the digital universe can easily feel left behind.

For example: After a recent meeting, several committee members gathered in a circle with their I-phones, Droids, and Blackberries – making plans to share their ideas through Facebook. One woman, who confessed that she has a computer at home but rarely uses it, sat sadly in the corner – unable to even understand their conversation. Even though she had access to all official communication from the church and the committee chair – which was still being done with paper and ink - she was excluded from the interaction that was the driving force behind the group.

5) We Don’t Yet Understand The Theological Implications

This is the Biblical side of the new reality that will need much careful thought in the coming decades. Consider the Call of Abram in Genesis 12 that leads him to “the land that I will show you.” The Hebrew word for land refers directly to the earth, to the soil that is tilled. This means that the Covenant upon which the entire Biblical story depends is rooted in a physical place. What does this story – and what do many others from the Bible that speak to the importance of physical location – have to tell us about the “brave new world” of the Internet that we are just beginning to build?


Next Post: 6 Reasons Why Churches Need To Have More Online Interaction

Does Presbyterian Polity Provide For Online Church Organization?

(Following are selected passages from the Presbyterian Church USA's Book of Order, 2011 edition. They speak to the feasability of organizing churches or higher governing bodies on the Internet. Actual language from the BoO is in bold. In parentheses, I have added a list of questions for each quote intended to spark discussion.)

From G-1.01 The Congregation

The congregation is the church engaged in the mission of God in its particular context.

(Can the Internet and social media in particular be considered an independent context for ministry, or can it only enhance the ministry of geographically-based churches? If we believe online destinations such as Twitter, Facebook, and Second Life do qualify as “particular contexts,” should we seek to form congregations that are exclusively digital in nature?)

Through the congregation God’s people carry out the ministries of:

(1)Proclamation

(2)Sharing the Sacraments

(Can the full spiritual effect of Baptism and the Lord’s Supper be communicated through a virtual online medium? Should we continue to require the physical presence of the elements – water, bread, wine - to ensure the efficacy of the Sacraments?)

(3)Living in covenant life with God and each other

(Can the full meaning of covenant life together exist between people who do not share a geographic community and who may have never physically met one another?)


A “congregation,” as used in this Form of Government, refers to a formally organized community chartered and recognized by a presbytery as provided in this Constitution.

(Would an online congregation need a geographic presbytery to grant a charter? Would it then participate in that presbytery as would a geographically-based church? Or would a new, non-geographic presbytery need to be formed that would encompass various online congregations and would send its own delegates to General Assembly? Or would an entirely new structure and system of polity need to be developed to meet the particular needs of online ministry?)

Other forms of corporate witness established by the presbytery shall also be governed by this Constitution and shall be subject to the authority of the presbytery.

(Could “other forms of corporate witness” apply to efforts to organize online churches? How would the structure and polity of such bodies be different from traditional geographic congregations?)


From G-3.01 General Principles of Councils

The particular responsibility of the councils of the church is to nurture, guide, and govern those who witness as part of the Presbyterian Church (USA), to the end that such witness strengthens the whole church and gives glory to God.

(Is “council” a more appropriate way than “congregation” to think about groups that form on places like Facebook and Twitter that are comprised primarily of clergy and lay leaders?)


From G-3.03 The Presbytery

The presbytery is the council serving as a corporate expression of the church within a certain district and is composed of all the congregations and teaching elders within that district.

(The definition of the word “district” is key. Does it mean a specific geographic area? A specific ethnic constituency? A specific special-interest group or theological orientation? A specific online site or destination? All of the above?)

Also important is the word “all”. For example, would a presbytery formed on Facebook need to include all churches that have a Facebook presence? In such a case, would the formation of a higher council, such as a synod or even a parallel General Assembly, be more appropriate?)

The presbytery is responsible for the government of the church throughout its district, and for assisting and supporting the witness of congregations to the sovereign activity of God in the world, so that all congregations become communities of faith, hope, love, and witness.

(Perhaps the most instructive passage for why online organization is needed. Not as an end unto itself, but as a way to nurture congregations, be they geographic or virtual, and the disciples they are growing.)

Spreading My Wings

I haven't posted here since mid-September, because I have found myself involved in some other projects. As a means to keep myself focused and sane, I have decided to start posting here weekly just to share some of my personal thoughts.

Today, I'm full of excitement and anticipation as I launch the Beta version of what I hope will become a collaborative effort. It's a political blog, designed to recreate the energy and passion that I experienced as a writer for The Seminal back in 2008. I have no idea how this project will go, but it gets my juices flowing, so I'm doing it!

Just to summarize, here are the virtual projects I am currently managing:

Presbytery of Twitter
Presbytery of Twitter (on Facebook)
The Spectacle
This blog (Pastor Looks at 40)

I'll share more about each of these projects, and how I envision them working together, in future posts.

Babel or Pentecost? - Part 1

(This is an article I wrote in 2007 about technology and faith, when I was somewhat of a Luddite. I'm going to re-publish it here in several installments, and then write about how my views have evolved as the age of social media has dawned.)

I have a friend who is a minister and self-professing techno-geek. He loves computers. He builds websites and plays interactive video games. He even co-hosts something called a podcast - which is like a radio show on the Internet.

As long as we've been friends, I've enjoyed getting on his nerves by calling computers evil and by making fun of people who use them a lot. The funny thing is, because of him, I've been much more of a techno person than I ever thought I would. He's even gotten me started on making my own blog.

The two of us have had an ongoing conversation about whether our rapidly advancing technology is a good thing. My friends thinks that the Internet offers new ways for people to make connections and share information, that it strengthens the bonds of human relatinship.

And he's right! We have gained a lot from new technologies, and we will continue to in ways that we cannot even dream about today. But I am cautious about where this progression will ultimately lead us. Maybe I watch too much science fiction, but this rapid acceleration in what computers can do scares me.

And it's not because I think we're going to end up enslaved to machines like in "Terminator" or "The Matrix." My concern has more to do with how our machines have the potential to distract us from God and the creator/creature relationship. My cautionary tale, therefore, is not one of those movies. It's a story that appears in the eleventh chapter of Genesis, and it describes an ancient race of people who unite briefly in glorious technological achievement, but end up scattered and confused. It's the story of Babel...

From the Pulpit: Risky Faith

(This excerpt is from a sermon preached October 16, 2011 - based on I Thessalonians 1:1-10)

The apostles were quite bold in taking risks, but not taking too many. As he travelled from place to place, Paul developed a keen sense of when to aggressively push with the Gospel, and when to retreat and take a more defensive tactic. The Book of Acts details this balance of sound risk-taking as the Christian faith exploded from a disorganized band of 12 disciples into a powerful religion that has changed the scope of world history.

But even more important than imitating the apostle’s risky faith is the fact that they have imitated Christ himself – Paul says “us and the Lord”. Because the apostles didn’t invent their strategy of good risk-taking. They were imitating what Jesus Christ did on the cross. So what Paul is really telling the Thessalonians is that since Christ was not afraid of risks, and was not even afraid being killed, then neither should Christ’s followers be afraid.

Now it might seem strange to say that Christ on the cross was a risk. It might even seem heretical to put it this way, because it implies that God, by sending his only Son into the world, was rolling the dice – that God was not in control of things. It implies that Jesus was just taking a chance and hoping for the best when he started his ministry. And it implies that this risk failed when he was killed.

So what, then, is Paul getting at when he says that we should be imitators of the apostles and of Christ? What does it mean for us to have a “risky faith” that Paul would praise?

Let’s think back to those games of Risk that I played with my brothers, and specifically to my failed strategy. Recall that I played too defensively, always trying to find a safe corner where I could hole up and protect myself. And recall how I always lost, because my brothers would build up bigger armies by being more aggressive. As it turns out, my risk-averse strategy was actually quite risky. By failing to take any risks, I was taking the biggest risk of all. I was guaranteeing that I would not succeed. Just ask anyone who has started a business. They will understand this principle well.

Now apply this principle to the cross. In order for Jesus to succeed, in order for him win our salvation, he had to die and rise again. And in order to be driven to the cross, he had to have a certain level of aggressiveness and risk-taking in his ministry. If he had avoided all danger and all risk, he never would become our Lord and Savior. Therefore, for Jesus to be completely risk-averse would have been the biggest risk of all.

That’s what Paul is talking about when he talks about imitating Christ. He is praising the Thessalonians for not being so timid and so risk-averse that they can’t fulfill the calling that God has given them. They endure labors and persecutions, but persevere to become examples of faith for churches everywhere.

And we are no different. We are called to be imitators of the Thessalonians, imitators of the apostles, and imitators of Christ. We are called to avoid the biggest risk of all, which is not fulfilling our God-given purpose. We are called to find the balance that comes in taking take good risks.

For Jesus, taking good risks involved speaking the truth about the Kingdom of God and challenging the authorities of this time. For Paul and the early Christians, taking good risks meant going into potentially dangerous places and sharing the good news of Christ. What, then, does taking good risks mean for us?

That’s a question that each one of us will answer differently. For some, a good risk is inviting a neighbor to church. For others, a good risk is volunteering for an outreach ministry that seems a little intimidating. For still others, a good risk is speaking up with an opinion that might not be popular with everyone who hears it. And for some, just to show up at church, or at Bible study, or at a Fellowship meal is a risk – but a risk that is worth taking.

But as Paul has shown, and as my boyhood games of Risk have shown, the true risk – the one that we should always avoid taking – is the risk of never taking one. Amen.