The Church of the Algorithm: How the Feed Deforms Faith

📱The Church of the Algorithm:

Digital Wolves and the Deformed Mind

Sheepfold Under Siege — Article 12

There was a time when wolves needed pulpits.

Now they only need a signal.

They do not enter the flock through the front doors of churches but through the blue glow of screens, sliding unnoticed into pockets, bedrooms, headphones, and late-night scrolling sessions.

The shepherds of today labor with open Bibles while their sheep swim in rivers of throwaway theology, algorithmic catechisms crafted not by saints but by secular engineers, designed not for holiness but for habit.

The digital world did not invent false teaching.

It merely gave false teachers the power to multiply themselves into millions of minds without belonging to a church, submitting to elders, or even speaking to a living person.

We now inhabit an age where “teachers” do not rise from prayer closets but from editing apps, and their authority extends not from character tested by time but from content rewarded by clicks.

The wolves of our generation do not require seduction or spectacle.

They only require reach.

This is the era of TikTok prophets, YouTube mystics, Instagram exegetes, and podcast pastors — voices untested by Scripture, ungrounded in the confessions, unaccountable to any body of believers.

And yet they shape the spiritual imaginations of millions, thirty seconds at a time.

The problem is not technology itself.

The Reformers would have filled the internet with gospel tracts had they possessed it.

The problem is the disembodied, uncommitted, unexamined stream of spiritual opinions masquerading as revelation, where theology becomes entertainment and doctrine becomes a spectacle shaped by emotional resonance rather than biblical fidelity.

Algorithms do not care about truth.

They care about retention.

They reward whatever keeps you watching, not whatever keeps you holy.

And so the wolves who rise through the algorithm share three marks.

They are short, because depth kills virality.

They are simple, because complexity slows engagement.

And they are self-reinforcing, because the algorithm feeds you whatever first caught your attention.

Curiosity becomes consumption.

Consumption becomes conviction.

Conviction becomes catechesis — not by Scripture, but by suggestion.

The Bible Project is one of the softer and more polished examples — visually stunning, thoughtful, and undeniably powerful in form — yet quietly revisionist in content. Its presentation of the atonement drains the cross of wrath. Its reading of Scripture treats divine revelation as literary beauty rather than breathed-out authority. Its narrative arc flattens the holiness of God into mere story structure. Because it is gentle and aesthetically brilliant, few notice the drift.

Then there are the deconstructionist influencers, the spiritual wanderers who dress apostasy in therapeutic language. They speak gently of trauma and authenticity, of embodiment and “finding your truth.” Their tone is soft enough to feel healing, yet they lead countless souls not to Christ but away from Him. Their kindness is a velvet veil over unbelief.

And beneath them swarm the TikTok theologians:

enthusiastic, untrained, untethered.

One day Jesus liberates from structures, the next Paul is a bigot, the next God embraces every identity the culture celebrates. Scripture becomes clay in the hands of those who do not fear the Potter. Their confidence is the most dangerous part. They speak boldly while knowing little, and their boldness baptizes ignorance.

The tragedy is not merely that these voices exist.

It is that they have replaced pastors for many Christians.

A shepherd preaches once on Sunday, but a phone preaches all week.

The man who labors in Scripture may give his flock one hour.

The algorithm gives them forty.

And in this competition, the shepherd often loses.

We are witnessing the rise of an algorithmic priesthood — influencers ordained not by God but by attention thresholds, catechizing believers who do not realize they are being discipled by their devices.

And the fruit is everywhere.

Christians who cannot distinguish conviction from emotion.

Believers who know more TikTok theology than Bible verses.

Church members who quote YouTubers more than Reformers.

Young adults “deconstructing” not in prayer, but in comment sections.

A people discipled by the feed rather than the faith.

It is here, before going further, that I must speak plainly about myself.

I am not a pastor.

I am not an elder.

I am not called by Christ to bear the weight of shepherding souls through official office. By His grace, I am an active part of a Presbyterian church plant — Providence Presbyterian — which will begin gathering fully in January. It is there, under the oversight of faithful elders, that spiritual care and discipline are exercised as Christ commands.

I write these articles with conviction and love for the Church, but never as a replacement for the ordinary means of grace. Please hear this clearly: I am not your pastor. Your pastors are the elders who know your life, who open the Word before you, who pray for you by name, and who stand accountable before God for your soul. I want to serve your discernment, not supplant your discipleship. If anything here strengthens your trust in Christ and deepens your commitment to a faithful local church, then this work is fruitful. If it distracts you from the authority of the elders God has given you, then it has failed.

With that said, the path forward in our digital age is not panic and not withdrawal.

It is the recovery of what Christians have always needed: the ordinary means of grace.

There is no digital substitute for the preached Word.

No algorithm that rivals the sacraments.

No influencer who replaces the accountability of a covenant community.

No video that can shepherd your soul the way Christ intends through His appointed overseers.

If the Church desires resilience in this age, she must place the pastor back at the center of discipleship and return screens to their proper place — tools, not teachers.

The digital world is not neutral.

It seeks to shape you.

But Christ has already claimed you.

He has given pastors to guard you, Scripture to anchor you, and His Spirit to sanctify you.

The wolves may have screens, but the sheep have a Shepherd.

And He has not abandoned His flock to the algorithm.

His voice still cuts through the noise.

We must choose carefully which voice we follow.

✒️ The Pilgrim’s Post