Recently, I have come across a number of comments suggesting that some of us Catholic priests are on social media simply because of Facebook monetisation. Others have dismissed us as Gen Z priests who apparently have nothing better to do with our time. There are even those who believe that when we publicly correct errors already made public on social media, we are acting against Christian charity.
I find these arguments rather interesting, particularly because they reveal a certain misunderstanding of what pastoral communication entails, and perhaps, what the Church actually teaches about evangelisation in the digital age.
I have been on social media since 2009, long before Facebook monetisation became a consideration for content creators anywhere in the world. My interest was, and remains, the communication of the Christian faith through emerging media technologies. In fact, this interest became the subject of my postgraduate academic research.
In 2015, my Postgraduate Diploma thesis at the Catholic Institute of West Africa (CIWA), Port Harcourt, was titled “Recommunicating Faith through Cyberspace: Prospects for Young Catholics in Uromi Diocese.” Two years later, my Master’s thesis was titled “Virtual to Real Faith Communities: A Study among Young Facebook Users in Uromi Diocese.” Today, I am pursuing a PhD in Communication and Media Studies at Lagos State University, with research interests that continue to include digital religion, pastoral communication and the ethical challenges of emerging technologies like Artificial Intelligence.
I mention these things not to parade academic qualifications, but to establish that my presence on social media (as is true of many other Catholic Priests on these platforms) is neither accidental nor an attempt to follow some fashionable trend. This is an area to which I have devoted years of pastoral practice, study and research. It is something I genuinely believe in.
And yes, I will not be bullied into rejecting Facebook monetisation simply to convince anyone that my intentions are pure. The fact that pastoral communication can generate revenue does not automatically mean that revenue is its motivation. Producing quality digital content requires equipment, internet subscriptions, software, electricity, technical support and, above all, time. If monetisation helps sustain these efforts, why should that become a scandal? The Church has never taught that every legitimate means of sustaining an apostolate must be rejected simply because money is involved.
Ironically, monetisation presents its own challenges. The attention-driven algorithms of social media platforms often favour sensational, controversial and emotionally provocative content over material that is objectively valuable. In my experience, this has sometimes limited the reach of serious pastoral communication. We cannot deny that there now exists the temptation to produce what attracts attention rather than what genuinely builds faith. But that is precisely why we must keep these conversations going as we gently but firmly distinguish what is genuine from what is merely “attention-seeking.”
Now, concerning public corrections, I sometimes wonder whether those who condemn rejoinders have forgotten how intellectual formation works.
At the Seminary of Saints Peter and Paul, Bodija, Ibadan, where I studied Philosophy and Theology, we had several noticeboards on which seminarians published articles, offered arguments and wrote rejoinders to one another’s positions. We debated questions of philosophy, theology, morality and contemporary society. Sometimes these exchanges were quite intense, but they were part of our intellectual formation. They didn’t suddenly translate to “fighting one another”.
Indeed, there is a reason Philosophy traditionally precedes Theology in priestly formation. We were not taught Philosophy merely to become argumentative priests. We were taught to think critically, recognise contradictions, evaluate arguments and appreciate the principles of dialectics. We were expected to distinguish sound reasoning from fallacies, and truth from mere opinion.
Why then should these intellectual responsibilities suddenly become evidence of pride or a lack of charity simply because the noticeboards have moved from Bodija to Facebook?
Of course, Christian charity must govern every correction. And I’ve made this point on several occasions. We have no justification for insulting people, attacking their dignity or humiliating them in the name of defending the faith. But charity does not demand silence in the face of publicly disseminated error. If someone publicly misrepresents Catholic doctrine or some aspect of our Liturgy, and thousands of people encounter that misrepresentation, a respectful public correction serves not only the person who made the statement, but also those who may have been misled by it.
There is a difference between publicly correcting an erroneous teaching and publicly exposing someone’s private moral failings. The latter ordinarily requires discretion and pastoral sensitivity. The former may require an equally public clarification, particularly when the error continues to circulate. Even then, I insist that the correction must be proportionate, truthful and directed towards the good of souls.
Charity without truth becomes sentimentality, just as truth without charity can become cruelty. We must avoid both extremes.
Besides, the Church has not been silent about the responsibilities and opportunities presented by digital communication. The Dicastery for Communication’s 2023 document, Towards Full Presence: A Pastoral Reflection on Engagement with Social Media, challenges us to become responsible witnesses who foster authentic relationships, listen attentively and communicate truth without encouraging hostility and division. We must pay better attention to that last sentence.
In his message for the 60th World Day of Social Communications in 2026, titled Preserving Human Voices and Faces, Pope Leo XIV similarly emphasises responsibility, cooperation and education in the digital environment. He recognises the serious dangers associated with algorithms, misinformation and artificial intelligence, while insisting that technological development must remain at the service of human dignity and authentic communication.
Even more instructive is the recently published document of the Dicastery for the Doctrine of the Faith, Venite ad Me: Considerations on the Transmission of the Faith in an Epochal Change, released on 22 October 2026. The document recognises that digital technologies provide unprecedented opportunities for evangelisation and the dissemination of catechetical content. At the same time, it warns against the distortion of faith through ideologies, misinformation and religious interpretations detached from the authentic teaching of the Church.
Interestingly, the document also acknowledges testimonies of people whose encounters with Christian content on social media contributed to their journey towards faith. Surely, this should remind us that the digital space is not simply a playground for idle priests. It is also a missionary environment in which real people are searching for meaning, truth and God.
None of this suggests that every priest must become a pastoral communicator on social media, or that everything priests do online is automatically justified.
Our digital activities must remain consistent with our priestly identity, ecclesial communion and pastoral obligations. Social media must never replace the celebration of the sacraments, personal accompaniment or the ordinary responsibilities of priestly ministry. But neither should we pretend that the people we encounter online are somehow less deserving of pastoral attention than those sitting in our churches.
I readily admit that we who engage in digital evangelisation must continually examine our motives, methods and language. We can make mistakes, and when we do, we must be humble enough to accept correction ourselves. However, disagreements about particular posts should be addressed on their merits, rather than through sweeping accusations about monetisation, age or presumed lack of pastoral seriousness.
I have spent years studying how faith can be communicated better through digital media, and I continue to put that knowledge into practice. I have no intention of abandoning this apostolate simply because some people are uncomfortable with priests who are active, visible and willing to engage in public theological discourse.
The real question should not be why Catholic priests are on social media. It should be whether we are using these platforms responsibly, faithfully and effectively to proclaim Christ, defend the truth and build communion. That is the standard by which our work ought to be judged.
And so, to those who believe that priests like me have no business being here, I have just one question:
If, with my knowledge, experience and expertise, I shouldn’t be on social media, why should you?
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