From liming to live-streaming: Catholic media meets the digital mission

By Fr Robert Christo

Vicar for Communications

If Pentecost happened today, would the apostles livestream it? And if they did, would St Peter ask St John to handle the camera while St Paul managed the WhatsApp broadcast list?

That playful question captured the spirit of the 2026 Catholic Media Conference, where over 460 communicators from across North America gathered in New Jersey, USA, to explore one urgent theme: Innovation Anchored in Mission.

From Artificial Intelligence (AI) to YouTube strategy, from collaborative journalism to fundraising campaigns, one message echoed throughout the workshops: technology changes, but the mission remains the same.

As Jesus commands, “Go into the whole world and proclaim the Gospel to every creature” (Mk 16:15). The “whole world” now includes smartphones, social media feeds, podcasts, search engines, livestreams, and AI platforms.

Pope Francis repeatedly described the digital world as a “place” to be evangelised rather than merely a tool to be used. Likewise, the Second Vatican Council’s decree Inter Mirifica reminds us that the means of social communication are gifts from God that can contribute greatly to the advancement of humanity when used responsibly and ethically.

One presenter observed, “Being seen is no longer the same as being heard.” In a culture of endless scrolling, Catholic communicators must create content that helps people pause long enough to encounter Christ.

As US Bishop Barron often says, the Church must “enter the digital continent” because if we do not bring the Gospel into the culture, the culture will shape the Gospel in our absence or our indifference.

My chosen workshops highlighted practical strategies for dioceses and parishes: adapting news stories for social media, developing ethical AI policies, using analytics wisely, building trust through proactive media relations, forming Catholic influencers, strengthening donor communications, and fostering collaboration across Catholic media organisations.

There was also a strong emphasis on mission-centred storytelling. This resonated deeply with me as a Caribbean priest. As one session noted, we are stronger together.

Catholic media organisations are discovering that shared reporting, coordinated messaging, and cross-platform partnerships can extend the Church’s reach far beyond what any one ministry can accomplish alone.

From Cro Cro to Chalkdust, a gifted calypsonian knows this instinctively: if the rhythm catches your feet, the message reaches your heart and, as we say in the Caribbean, ‘deep down in meh belly’.

The Church has always understood this. Jesus did not teach in bullet points. He taught through parables and stories: seeds, nets, lamps, lost coins, vineyards, and prodigal sons.

Among the many workshops, analytics sessions, and discussions on AI, two debut films reminded participants that the Church’s most powerful communication tool remains the human heart.

Sacred Heart: His Reign Has No End offered a visually stunning and spiritually profound exploration of one of the Church’s most ancient and cherished devotions. Through a rich blend of sacred art, Scripture, historical insight, and personal testimonies, the documentary presents the Sacred Heart not as a relic of the past but as a timely response to today’s wounds of loneliness, emptiness, violence, and anxiety.

Drawing on Jesus’ invitation, “Learn from me; for I am gentle and humble in heart” (Mt 11:29), the film reveals that devotion to the Sacred Heart is more than piety; it is a call to mission, mercy, reparation, communion, and trust.

Rooted in the visions entrusted to St Margaret Mary Alacoque and nourished by centuries of Catholic tradition, devotion to the Sacred Heart reminds us that Christ does not merely offer advice—He offers His very heart, crowned with thorns of our ingratitude and pierced by the lance of our indifference.

Equally compelling was the documentary on St Junípero Serra: Debating Statues and Saints. It demonstrated the power of visual storytelling to engage difficult struggles in history with honesty and hope.

Through the creative integration of statues, colonisation, cultural assimilation, mission churches, archival images, landscapes, and contemporary interviews, the film transformed stone monuments into living conversations about evangelisation, culture, memory, and reconciliation.

Rather than presenting Serra as either hero or villain, the documentary invited viewers into the Church’s commitment to truth spoken in charity. It acknowledged the complexities of history while highlighting the missionary zeal that inspired Serra and the enduring impact of the Gospel in new lands.

The juxtaposition of statues and living communities became a powerful metaphor: saints are not museum pieces. They point beyond themselves to Christ and challenge every generation to discern how to proclaim the Gospel with humility, respect, and courage.

For me, this resonates deeply with the rich experience of Indigenous heritage and the annual Santa Rosa Festival in Arima. The enduring witness of the First Peoples reminds us that authentic evangelisation is never about erasing culture or taking down statutes but purifying, elevating, and entering into rich and respected dialogue with it—the synodal way.

The lesson is clear: healing begins with conversation, deep listening, bond and bridge-building, and a willingness to walk together.

One presenter used the image of a photographer waiting patiently for the decisive moment to capture the “heart” moment. Evangelisation is much the same. We cannot force grace, but we can learn to notice it.

There were plenty of laughs along the way. One participant joked, “If St Paul were alive today, he would probably have a podcast, three social media accounts, a few YouTube channels, and a very active WhatsApp broadcast list.”

Perhaps.

But behind the humour lies a serious truth: digital tools are not the destination; they are the road.

In the end, the challenge is simple: in a noisy world, can our communications help people hear the still, small voice of God?