Like other churches during the COVID-19 lockdown, Dunamis International Gospel Center began livestreaming its services in 2020. Now that the pandemic has subsided, and noticing the pews aren’t as filled as before, the Rev. Paul Enenche delivered a message to congregants who’d rather watch DIGC services from a video screen.

Virtual worship, he said, is ending. It’s time for parishioners to log off and come in. “The assembly is very important,” Enenche, invoking Hebrews 10:25, which calls the faithful to continue meeting together. “Those of you who are used to watching from home, today may be the last day you do that.” 

Since then, Enenche has kept his word, ending DIGC’s livestream; video is only available after the fact, primarily for the disabled and parishioners overseas. The move puts DIGC among a growing number of churches hoping to reverse declining attendance and fill pews by cutting the streaming cord. 

Many churches ending livestreaming cite poll numbers showing that a majority of congregants prefer in-person worship. They say they feel more engaged and more connected to their faith and their congregation. 

But proponents say the end of virtual worship is a mistake. Besides assuming that in-person attendance will rebound, they say, the move ignores the membership gains some churches have seen during virtual worship and is insensitive to members with mobility issues, those who live far away without transportation or who may be too ill to attend in person. And it dismisses a powerful tool that can spread the gospel across the universe. 

Bishop Aaron Hannah, senior pastor of South Church in Cherry Hill, Maryland, told Word in Black that he’d witnessed a surge in new faces, with as many as 200 people joining a single virtual worship service.

”I’d never seen that many at one time in my entire life,” he said. Besides joining, virtual worshippers “continue to come and be regular givers just like the in-person members.”

Nevertheless, the trend of eliminating virtual worship is growing, a stark reversal from early in the pandemic, when livestreaming was the only option for houses of worship. Overnight, pastors scrambled to bring cameras, internet routers and other streaming technology into the sanctuary. The digital future had arrived. 

Four years later, “the enthusiasm has waned,” according to an October op-ed published in The Christian Post. “Online worship remains a tool, but it no longer carries the same momentum.” But some pastors and worshippers are pushing back, with the discussion dominating certain corners of social media.

Justin R. Lester, whose online handle is @thattechpastor, said in a Facebook video that, practically since its creation, the church has adjusted to different forms of technology, enabling it to spread the gospel to more people. Livestreaming, he said, should be no different.

“Printing press? Church. Radio. Church. Letters from Paul? Tech for his time,” Lester said. “But now, in the middle of an AI wave, we wanna…cut the livestream? Nah. This is the moment to grow not hide.”

DK Hammonds, a man of faith who helps churches integrate technology into their operations, acknowledged in a Facebook video that “something does take place powerfully” whenever two or more are gathered in worship. “But also, when we commune individually. God can use any location to operate the room. Give you a revelation, a rhema and love where you are.”

Meanwhile, Dionne Bostic suggested a pastor’s decision to end virtual worship might have more to do with offerings than ministry. 

“Many times, people are more inclined to tithe when they are in person and other people see them do it. It’s basically peer pressure rather than being a cheerful giver,” she said in a Facebook video. “But I will say you need money to keep the doors of the church open, so I can’t blame him for thinking about finances. I just hope that every time a soul is saved, the soul is celebrated rather than the dollar amount attached to it.” 

Like other churches during the COVID-19 lockdown, Dunamis International Gospel Center began livestreaming its services in 2020. Now that the pandemic has subsided, and noticing the pews aren’t as filled as before, the Rev. Paul Enenche delivered a message to congregants who’d rather watch DIGC services from a video screen.

Virtual worship, he said, is ending. It’s time for parishioners to log off and come in. “The assembly is very important,” Enenche, invoking Hebrews 10:25, which calls the faithful to continue meeting together. “Those of you who are used to watching from home, today may be the last day you do that.” 

Since then, Enenche has kept his word, ending DIGC’s livestream; video is only available after the fact, primarily for the disabled and parishioners overseas. The move puts DIGC among a growing number of churches hoping to reverse declining attendance and fill pews by cutting the streaming cord. 

Many churches ending livestreaming cite poll numbers showing that a majority of congregants prefer in-person worship. They say they feel more engaged and more connected to their faith and their congregation. 

But proponents say the end of virtual worship is a mistake. Besides assuming that in-person attendance will rebound, they say, the move ignores the membership gains some churches have seen during virtual worship and is insensitive to members with mobility issues, those who live far away without transportation or who may be too ill to attend in person. And it dismisses a powerful tool that can spread the gospel across the universe. 

Bishop Aaron Hannah, senior pastor of South Church in Cherry Hill, Maryland, told Word in Black that he’d witnessed a surge in new faces, with as many as 200 people joining a single virtual worship service.

”I’d never seen that many at one time in my entire life,” he said. Besides joining, virtual worshippers “continue to come and be regular givers just like the in-person members.”

Nevertheless, the trend of eliminating virtual worship is growing, a stark reversal from early in the pandemic, when livestreaming was the only option for houses of worship. Overnight, pastors scrambled to bring cameras, internet routers and other streaming technology into the sanctuary. The digital future had arrived. 

Four years later, “the enthusiasm has waned,” according to an October op-ed published in The Christian Post. “Online worship remains a tool, but it no longer carries the same momentum.” But some pastors and worshippers are pushing back, with the discussion dominating certain corners of social media.

Justin R. Lester, whose online handle is @thattechpastor, said in a Facebook video that, practically since its creation, the church has adjusted to different forms of technology, enabling it to spread the gospel to more people. Livestreaming, he said, should be no different.

“Printing press? Church. Radio. Church. Letters from Paul? Tech for his time,” Lester said. “But now, in the middle of an AI wave, we wanna…cut the livestream? Nah. This is the moment to grow not hide.”

DK Hammonds, a man of faith who helps churches integrate technology into their operations, acknowledged in a Facebook video that “something does take place powerfully” whenever two or more are gathered in worship. “But also, when we commune individually. God can use any location to operate the room. Give you a revelation, a rhema and love where you are.”

Meanwhile, Dionne Bostic suggested a pastor’s decision to end virtual worship might have more to do with offerings than ministry. 

“Many times, people are more inclined to tithe when they are in person and other people see them do it. It’s basically peer pressure rather than being a cheerful giver,” she said in a Facebook video. “But I will say you need money to keep the doors of the church open, so I can’t blame him for thinking about finances. I just hope that every time a soul is saved, the soul is celebrated rather than the dollar amount attached to it.”

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