Computers are transforming the world of religion

I was surfing on the Internet the other day, looking for information about the foot-and-mouth disease that is threatening the economy of the British Isles, when I ran across a bizarre technical story.

I was in the "Obscure Store and Reading Room" (www.obscurestore.com) and read about a church in Ohio that used the old "Andy Griffith Show" as a way to draw people to the congregation's Bible study. The pastor reported that he had more people in Bible study than ever before. And I suppose he was wondering why more churches weren't using those old classic television sitcoms. Think of the Bible study a pastor could have if he showed "I Love Lucy" programs before he began pontificating about biblical texts. I speculate that some of that old slapstick comedy coming out of the '50s and '60s might have one or two gems of wisdom.

But that misses the point. The world has moved beyond Lucy, Desi, Barney, Opie and Aunt Bea. There might be people who are out of touch and blissful like the people in Mayberry, but most of our world is hurtling toward trouble.

When we start thinking about technology and churches, it goes way beyond allowing adults to view old television sitcoms. Today, we have that monster machine called a computer, and it's transforming our world - including religion.

In a recent "Doonesbury" cartoon, characters J.J. and Zeke were planning their wedding. The couple had decided it should be a virtual wedding in a virtual chapel. In other words, they will make their commitment through computers. They will summon friends into an Internet computer network, type their intentions into cyberspace, make some promises about fidelity and then ask a clergyman to bless the union. It's all very simple, the marriage is done and the couple live happily ever after.

Sort of! But the missing element in that cyber scenario is a supportive community that will stick by the couple as they struggle through a committed relationship. I don't believe that computers create much of a community. People often sacrifice much to attend weddings - traveling hundreds of miles in some cases and hauling along expensive gifts. They do it because they want the marriage to work, and they show their support through their sacrifice.

But any day now, clergy will begin receiving requests to do weddings over the Internet, and I hope all such queries are turned down. If clergy are not repulsed by a cyber wedding, they might be facing other questions - such as, is it possible to baptize a baby through computers? Just think how much trouble this would save; nobody would even have to get dressed up. Leave the suit and tie in the closet and pull a chair up around the computer - we're going to baptize the baby! All the family needs is a basin of water and a computer modem to connect with friends, family and their pastor.

If this catches on, clergy will never have to leave their offices. They can send sermons over the Net, say their daily prayers, bless troubled parishioners and even visit the sick in hospitals. In this case, worship might lack the human touch, but people will get used to most anything over time.

Even funerals could be accomplished via computers. All we need is a video of the deceased in real life and in the coffin. Then the pastor could say a few words, offer some prayers, read a eulogy and, presto, another life is blessed. Then the family could head for the cemetery to bury the deceased. And no one has to even leave his or her house or office to witness the event.

I remember a startling story a few years ago about a mortuary that featured drive-by funerals. The mourners could pull into a drive-in window, press a button and see the deceased in the coffin. Then they could pause, say a prayer for humanity and ride off into the sunset. Of course, that's not real grief. It strikes me as "virtual" grief, too.

In all these scenarios, the people - real family and friends - are left at a distance. We never get to know the baby, hold it and hug it. We never talk to the betrothed couple about our own struggles. We aren't able to relate our love for the deceased.

But we do recite the rituals, standing at the screen of our computer, ready to click the mouse and move on without commitment. What a world!