Jacques Review

Prior to the outbreak of COVID-19 and the subsequent shutdowns of public gathering spaces, the North American Haitian Seventh-day Adventist Church (NAHSDAC; particularly the northeastern segment) had recognized the significance of digital platforms, particularly YouTube, in the evolving landscape of church and technology. However, it was not a focal point of their engagement, serving more as a peripheral nod to emerging trends. While most services were recorded and live-streamed, the majority of congregants still attended in person, with limited attention given to the online presence.

Notably, older members of the church, less familiar with digital platforms, may not have been actively engaged or invested in these online initiatives. Now, to be fair, this disparity in interest and awareness of digital integration varied among congregations, reflecting differing levels of commitment to embracing digital transformation. We do well to avoid overgeneralization although some of it will happen.

The advent of COVID-19 brought about a seismic shift within the NAHSDAC, disrupting its traditional practices and necessitating a rapid transition to online platforms for worship and congregation. We were unprepared. With public gatherings no longer feasible, YouTube and other digital platforms (Zoom, for instance) became the primary medium through which services were conducted and the community was nurtured.

Serious contemplations in this area cannot disregard the significant contributions of Dr. Johnson Cesar. Driven by unwavering charisma and an electrifying preaching style, Dr. Cesar emerged as a towering figure within NAHSDAC digital landscape. It is worth noting that even before the advent of alternatives, he had already amassed a substantial following, drawing in thousands of viewers (Adventists and Non-Adventists). The magnetic allure of his preaching resonated deeply within the hearts of many, making him the go-to figure. To this day, Dr. Cesar continues to captivate audiences and maintains his influential presence.

The apprehension and challenges experienced by the older generation in embracing digital faith communities are indeed expected, albeit not exclusive to this demographic. My usage of older generation is especially meant to identify a substantial portion of individuals who migrated to the United States in their late teens and beyond. This group was the primary target for prevalent discourse that demonizes technology. For instance, rather than recognizing the inherent potential of cell phones and the internet as neutral tools capable of facilitating both positive and negative outcomes, they have been castigated as formidable adversaries.

I find myself engaged in the task of accurately categorizing the diverse factions within NAHSDAC. It is noteworthy to mention a particular observation pertaining to the anti-digitization stance prevalent among certain members. Intriguingly, it appears that individuals who can’t be predominantly identified as Haitian Americans, particularly those whose formative years were spent outside the United States (for the most part), tend to exhibit a greater affinity for this perspective.

Illuminating this point further, let us consider a concrete example. Prior to the unfolding of these transformative events, a prevalent sentiment emerged, advocating for the congregation to bring physical copies of their bibles to services. The usage of digital bibles was criticized on the grounds that it may engender distractions, as extraneous content or advertisements could potentially disrupt the member’s focus.

Certain proponents of the anti-digitization stance even ventured to assert that there exists an inherent sanctity associated with physical bible, contrasting it with the notion of housing the biblical text within an alternative platform. Their contention posits that the presence of additional functions within the digital medium diminishes the sacredness of the bible contained therein, while emphasizing that the physical book solely encompasses the sacred text, unadulterated by any extraneous elements unrelated to its divine purpose. In essence, the utilization of mediums encompassing extraneous elements desanctifies.

In the aftermath of the reopening of churches, a new landscape has emerged, characterized by the arduous task of ushering back the complete participation of congregants. This is mostly successful. But we have not reached full capacity, as not everyone has returned yet, and the difference is palpable. As this endeavor unfolds, discreet conversations and analyses persist, delving into the nature of the developments and discerning the most efficacious means of encouraging a comprehensive return to the pews. While the previously pervasive demonization of digital mediums and platforms has largely abated, there exist pockets within certain contexts where the utilization of platforms such as Zoom and its counterparts have become conspicuously absent.

This conspicuous absence seems to imply that, barring catastrophic circumstances, the church perceives little utility in engaging with such platforms. However, a more constructive approach would entail a measured embrace of the emerging digital realm, harnessing its potential for the advancement of the church’s mission while retaining a sense of familiarity with its evolving contours.

Now, let’s be clear. This isn’t a polemic against in-person gatherings. The benefits derived from communal gathering are undeniable, as experienced in various domains of human interaction. In educational settings, students gather in classrooms to partake in the collective learning process, while sports enthusiasts assemble for shared experiences during significant games. Likewise, the inherent togetherness in worship services amplifies the spiritual and emotional dividends reaped by individuals, fostering a sense of interconnectedness and camaraderie that defies straightforward explanation. But. . .

Within the realm of technological advancements, the impact on religious gatherings goes beyond platforms like Zoom and Youtube. As we consider the future, we must contemplate the implications of emerging technologies such as virtual reality. Envision a scenario where individuals can actively participate in a worship service without physically being present in the traditional sense. This transcends the mere act of observing a speaker through a screen; it enables individuals to experience the service as if they were physically present, and in turn, be perceived as being present by others. Through virtual reality, one can curate their appearance and surroundings to suit their preferences, all from the comfort of their own home.

This fast-approaching reality challenges the traditional arguments against virtual gatherings. The concept of togetherness, often associated with physical proximity, takes on a new dimension. In the virtual realm, participants would perceive and interact with their surroundings as if they were physically present in the actual space. As this technological evolution progresses, the sense of reality within virtual experiences will continue to advance, becoming increasingly immersive. The notion of reality is contingent upon the understanding and perception of the mind, shaping the very essence of one’s experience.

If your mind believes you are somewhere, to what degree does it matter whether you physically are there? (Again, these are things to consider as opposed to arguments for or against.)

There is an abundance of noteworthy considerations regarding the future trajectory that lies before us. Should we disregard the significant role of Artificial Intelligence (AI)? Shall we overlook the fact that platforms such as ChatGPT have the capability to generate sermons that possess a generic quality, all dependent on the prompts they receive? While it is true that these developments are still in their nascent stages, I propose that those who have diligently followed the swift pace of innovation can attest that the preliminary phases have already been traversed. Imagine the profound possibilities that AI holds within the next quinquennium. Envision the remarkable capabilities it will inevitably encompass.

ChatGPT is a “language model designed to generate human-like responses in conversational contexts.”

While there is much more to explore on this subject, I trust that the preceding reflections have provided some sort of foundation. It is evident that a considerable amount of terrain remains to be traversed in order to assist the church in effectively navigating these uncharted waters. It is imperative that we begin at a level beyond the scope of this discussion. NAHSDAC should endeavor to convene symposiums, where in-depth presentations and insightful discussions can take place, delving into the impact of these technological innovations on our communities.

Undoubtedly, the broader church has already engaged in such conversations, and I am certain that resources are readily available. We can and should use these. However, my aspiration is to witness our own community engaging in dialogue about our unique position. Imagine the NAHSDAC actively seeking the expertise of its own members who are well-versed in these domains. By gathering the brightest minds within our midst, we can foster a collective exploration of theology and technology, shaping a distinct NAHSDAC perspective that is attuned to our immediate context.

As for Haitian Adventism, if they don’t start playing with the technology they will never know how to use it. They can do better.