Evangelization in the Age of Emojis: Why the Vatican’s Influencer Summit Matters 08-06-2025
A few days ago, something remarkable happened in Rome. The Vatican invited over a thousand content creators, yes, influencers, to gather near St. Peter’s Basilica for a global summit on evangelization in the digital age. There were stage lights, smartphones, and even a few selfies with Pope Leo himself. Somewhere between the dancing, the filming, and the impromptu prayers, the Church offered something bold: not a performance, but a quiet revolution.
Let’s be honest. For many older Catholics, the words “faith” and “influencer” feel about as natural together as incense and Instagram. There is a kind of sacred slowness we cherish, candles flickering in silence, the steady rhythm of the Rosary, the reverent quiet before the Eucharist. Can a video with a catchy song and twenty thousand likes truly carry the weight of the Gospel?
It is a fair question.
But perhaps a better one is this: can God still speak through the unexpected?
Because throughout history, that is exactly what He has done. A burning bush. A manger. A tax collector’s house. A Roman cross. And now, maybe, a phone screen.
The Church is not replacing the sacraments. It is not abandoning reverence or trading in Truth for trend. What it is doing. quietly and perhaps courageously, is walking into the spaces where people actually live, including the noisy ones. If Saint Paul were alive today, he might still write letters. But he might also have a podcast. Or a short video on what grace looks like when you are grieving. He would not be trying to go viral—he would be trying to go where the people are.
That is what this moment is about.
Pope Leo, by showing up at this summit, did something extraordinary without saying much at all. He acknowledged that the Church belongs not just to those who come to it, but also to those who are still searching for the way in. And sometimes, that first step does not happen in a cathedral. It happens in a quiet bedroom at two in the morning, when someone scrolling through loneliness stumbles on a clip that says, “You are not alone. God sees you.”
Do we risk making faith look too casual? Maybe. But there is a greater risk: leaving people untouched by the Gospel simply because we failed to speak in the language they understand.
And language is key. Some of us grew up on Latin responses and holy cards tucked into prayer books. Today’s generation lives in memes, emojis, and vertical video. They are not trying to mock the sacred. They are trying to find it in their world. The Church’s task is not to mimic the culture but to illuminate it. To bring light, not flash. To offer depth, not spectacle.
At the summit, there were stories of priests who began posting short reflections and suddenly found themselves ministering to people who had not set foot in church in years. There was a young woman who started sharing simple prayers online. One day a stranger messaged her: “I watched your video. I cried. I went to confession for the first time in ten years.” That is not marketing. That is mercy doing what mercy does.
We should not be afraid of the new. But we must be discerning. Here are a few reminders as we navigate this new terrain together:
First, the Eucharist is still the source and summit. Nothing digital replaces the living presence of Christ in the Mass. But what is online can point people back to it.
Second, authenticity is more powerful than polish. People are not looking for spiritual celebrities. They are looking for hope that feels real.
Third, joy is a witness. And sometimes, a sense of humor opens hearts faster than a lecture.
Fourth, beauty still matters. Whether it is a cathedral or a well-crafted post, beauty stirs the soul and reminds us of heaven.
Fifth, we all have a role to play. Not everyone is called to post online. But everyone is called to evangelize. Maybe for you, it means sharing a reflection with a grandchild, or sending a prayer to a neighbor, or simply smiling when you talk about your faith. That is influence, too.
The truth is, the Gospel has never depended on grand platforms. It began in whispers. In homes. In gestures of kindness and courage. And yet it turned the world upside down.
Now the Church is asking: can we do it again, not by retreating, but by reaching?
Saint John Paul II once said, “Do not be afraid. Open wide the doors to Christ.” Today those doors include screens and streams and unfamiliar tools. But the mission is still the same: to bring Christ to others, and others to Christ.
So do not let the neon lights fool you. Behind the hashtags and the cameras, something sacred is unfolding. Grace is still grace, even when it comes in pixels. And the Holy Spirit, as always, goes where He pleases.
Even if that means showing up on Instagram.
Amen.
Let’s be honest. For many older Catholics, the words “faith” and “influencer” feel about as natural together as incense and Instagram. There is a kind of sacred slowness we cherish, candles flickering in silence, the steady rhythm of the Rosary, the reverent quiet before the Eucharist. Can a video with a catchy song and twenty thousand likes truly carry the weight of the Gospel?
It is a fair question.
But perhaps a better one is this: can God still speak through the unexpected?
Because throughout history, that is exactly what He has done. A burning bush. A manger. A tax collector’s house. A Roman cross. And now, maybe, a phone screen.
The Church is not replacing the sacraments. It is not abandoning reverence or trading in Truth for trend. What it is doing. quietly and perhaps courageously, is walking into the spaces where people actually live, including the noisy ones. If Saint Paul were alive today, he might still write letters. But he might also have a podcast. Or a short video on what grace looks like when you are grieving. He would not be trying to go viral—he would be trying to go where the people are.
That is what this moment is about.
Pope Leo, by showing up at this summit, did something extraordinary without saying much at all. He acknowledged that the Church belongs not just to those who come to it, but also to those who are still searching for the way in. And sometimes, that first step does not happen in a cathedral. It happens in a quiet bedroom at two in the morning, when someone scrolling through loneliness stumbles on a clip that says, “You are not alone. God sees you.”
Do we risk making faith look too casual? Maybe. But there is a greater risk: leaving people untouched by the Gospel simply because we failed to speak in the language they understand.
And language is key. Some of us grew up on Latin responses and holy cards tucked into prayer books. Today’s generation lives in memes, emojis, and vertical video. They are not trying to mock the sacred. They are trying to find it in their world. The Church’s task is not to mimic the culture but to illuminate it. To bring light, not flash. To offer depth, not spectacle.
At the summit, there were stories of priests who began posting short reflections and suddenly found themselves ministering to people who had not set foot in church in years. There was a young woman who started sharing simple prayers online. One day a stranger messaged her: “I watched your video. I cried. I went to confession for the first time in ten years.” That is not marketing. That is mercy doing what mercy does.
We should not be afraid of the new. But we must be discerning. Here are a few reminders as we navigate this new terrain together:
First, the Eucharist is still the source and summit. Nothing digital replaces the living presence of Christ in the Mass. But what is online can point people back to it.
Second, authenticity is more powerful than polish. People are not looking for spiritual celebrities. They are looking for hope that feels real.
Third, joy is a witness. And sometimes, a sense of humor opens hearts faster than a lecture.
Fourth, beauty still matters. Whether it is a cathedral or a well-crafted post, beauty stirs the soul and reminds us of heaven.
Fifth, we all have a role to play. Not everyone is called to post online. But everyone is called to evangelize. Maybe for you, it means sharing a reflection with a grandchild, or sending a prayer to a neighbor, or simply smiling when you talk about your faith. That is influence, too.
The truth is, the Gospel has never depended on grand platforms. It began in whispers. In homes. In gestures of kindness and courage. And yet it turned the world upside down.
Now the Church is asking: can we do it again, not by retreating, but by reaching?
Saint John Paul II once said, “Do not be afraid. Open wide the doors to Christ.” Today those doors include screens and streams and unfamiliar tools. But the mission is still the same: to bring Christ to others, and others to Christ.
So do not let the neon lights fool you. Behind the hashtags and the cameras, something sacred is unfolding. Grace is still grace, even when it comes in pixels. And the Holy Spirit, as always, goes where He pleases.
Even if that means showing up on Instagram.
Amen.