Tim Hutchings is 25, English, doing a doctorate in theology at Durham University, and planning a future in academia. He began researching online churches three years ago for his master’s degree, and for his PhD he’s exploring four church groups, each experimenting with different online media: blogs; forums; webcasting – and virtual worlds. Tim’s building a detailed description of each community, and he’s aiming to create an Anglican interpretation of what he sees happening online. Lloyd Ashton ran a few of the trickier questions about virtual church past him.

• I’ve heard the church spoken of as being an incarnated community of believers. So what does it mean when this church community is disembodied? Can the disembodied be authentic?

The critical point is that the virtual Cathedral is not exactly disembodied. All those who visit are real people typing away at their computers – they just aren’t in the same geographical place in the ‘real world’.

‘Incarnation’ is about much more than ‘being physical’. Christ was incarnate not just by taking on flesh (the literal meaning of the word) but by becoming a real human being at a particular place and time, and becoming part of a specific culture. The Cathedral tries to be incarnate in Second Life by becoming a genuine part of Second Life culture.

If authenticity is about sharing the truth about one’s life and character with others, then the evidence I’ve gathered suggests that the Cathedral can certainly be authentic.

And if authenticity is about sharing real worship and genuine prayer, praying together for others and for real-world events and problems, then again the Cathedral seems to be authentic.

• Second Life, by its very architecture, demands that all who enter that virtual world, choose ‘avatars’. What does it mean when the characters you meet in church are representations of folk, and not the actual folk themselves? The fear that many Christians will have, of course, is that anonymity breeds deception...

It could be argued that all we ever see are representations of people: Think of ‘Sunday Best’ clothing, of the stilted and restrained behaviour people exhibit in church, of the common behaviours that ‘wouldn’t be deemed appropriate’ in a church, and of the oh-so-common accusation that Christians behave piously on Sundays and disgracefully the rest of the week…

On one level, it’s true that we only see representations of people in Second Life – as far as their outward appearance is concerned. However, almost everyone I speak to is convinced that they have genuinely come to know the people they meet online. Where people who have met online subsequently meet face-to-face, they consistently report that while they may be surprised by someone’s appearance, they’re not surprised by who they really are. There’s usually no intent to deceive – and that also seems to be valid for the Cathedral.

Clearly, this is complex. Some online churches have declared that the Christian faith demands honesty, and insist on the use of real names and complete transparency. Others (including the Cathedral) accept that the internet is a place of identity play, where people can and do choose avatars and names that are not their own, and try to become part of that internet culture by welcoming this sort of activity.

• One of the distinguishing things about the Second Life Anglican Cathedral is that it deliberately seeks to be accountable to the offline church: Mark Brown holds himself accountable to the Bishop of Wellington, for example.

The Anglican system is based on Episcopal authority and on geography – dioceses and parishes and the like. Yet this community is a fluid network whose membership transcends any physical boundaries.
I find myself asking whether in some way this calls time on traditional Anglican jurisdiction – whether it’s a further spin to the wheel of flying bishops etc. What do you think?

There are various solutions to the issue of diocese and bishops. You could ignore the episcopacy altogether, and declare a new beginning for Anglican ecclesiology; you could accept that Anglican churches have a particular hierarchical structure but argue that the Cathedral is something different from an Anglican church; you could try to build relations with a diocese; or you could try to create a new kind of non-geographical episcopal oversight.

If online churches vastly expanded in their popularity, we might start looking for some kind of non-geographical episcopal oversight – one ‘bishop of the internet,’ perhaps.

I’m unconvinced by this idea, which risks stifling the creativity and entrepreneurship that’s vital if Christians online are to keep up with the ever-changing nature of their medium.
• What are the differences between a community of believers, and a network of believers?
The difference is one of intensity. I have a network of friends and acquaintances, but I may not communicate with these folk for years. My address book is a kind of network too, but many of the names there are people with whom I have a very specific link – landlord, gas company, etc.

A community is a group with a much higher intensity of communication, including a shared sense of belonging.
A network of believers might use one another for specific purposes now and then, but a community forms close bonds, spends time together, and encourages one another to grow.

This doesn’t necessarily privilege one type of group over the other, however. One of the most-remarked characteristics of recent Western society has been the collapse of anything resembling community, so insisting on the ‘community’ model of believer group is becoming an anachronism.

• We’re talking about a virtual Anglican Cathedral here, rather than a Baptist church, and the central act of Anglican worship is the Eucharist. Yet I imagine celebrating the Eucharist would be ‘virtually’ impossible? The technology seems more accommodating of a purely Protestant service…

You’re right that the Cathedral hasn’t been used for the Eucharist. I think that’s the right decision – an online Eucharist would be acceptable to (some) Protestants, but likely to cause great offence to more high-church Anglicans.

Other online churches have tried Eucharists, but on the theological understanding that only a representation or remembrance is taking place.

That said, the worship style of the Cathedral is quite high church, making use of liturgies and vestments, votive and altar candles and so on – there’s even an incense burner tucked away next to the altar.

The internet seems to work well for quiet, reflective services with lots of visual appeal and use of sound, so the Cathedral’s decision to offer the traditional Evening Prayer and Compline in an Anglo-Catholic style makes sense.

• Any other observations?

In Second Life, anyone with a computer can create an avatar, a character that looks young, beautiful and fit. Everywhere you look in SL, there are shapely women in perfectly-tailored ballgowns, men rippling with implausible muscle tone, and it’s hard to spot a grey-haired character anywhere. We’ve created a world without the old, ugly, sick, disabled and poor. No one ever starves.

Do we celebrate this, as a space where all people are truly created equal, liberated from real-world disadvantages? Some do – I recently read of a home for the disabled in America where nine people with cerebral palsy have been able to create an able-bodied Second Life character to share between them, and it seems they find this liberating.

Nonetheless, it makes me uneasy – aren’t we reinforcing Western standards of perfection, buying into the idea that everyone “should” be young, beautiful and rich? Doesn’t the Gospel have different ideals? There are probably good and bad aspects to the “liberation” offered by Second Life.

Worshipping online: Is it really church?

http://www.episcopalchurch.org/79901_101368_ENG_HTM.htm