Dr. Bendangliba Andrew
In every generation, humanity has created its own idols. The Bible tells us how the Israelites despite being freshly delivered from Egypt, crafted a golden calf and bowed before it. Their impatience, mixed with insecurity, birthed an idol that replaced the living God. That story may feel distant but the truth is we have shaped our own golden calf today, it simply comes with a touchscreen and a glowing screen.
Walk into any public space or be at home and you will see heads bent down, fingers scrolling and eyes glued to smartphones. The device was once a tool for learning, connection and efficiency. But somewhere along the way, it became something far greater: an object of devotion, a silent master that demands attention day and night. This is the new idolatry and it is reshaping the way faith is lived and experienced.
The screen as an altar:In ancient times, an altar was unmistakable. It was built of stone or wood, placed in temples or open spaces and stood as a visible reminder of where worship was directed. An altar was never hidden, it declared openly the object of devotion. Today, the altar has changed form. It slips into the pocket and glows at the touch of a finger. For many young people, the smartphone has quietly become that altar. It is the first object they bow to each morning and the last they consult at night. Where attention and time are invested, there worship is revealed. If endless scrolling, streaming and chatting consume more energy than prayer, reflection or Scripture then our devotion is no longer at the ancient altar of God but at the modern altar of the screen.
The discipleship of algorithms: We often imagine discipleship happening in church settings through sermons, Bible studies or mentorship. Yet, quietly, algorithms have taken over the role of spiritual teachers. Social media does not only entertain; it shapes values, desires and beliefs. A quick test reveals the truth that many youths can recall the latest viral song or trending meme more easily than a verse of Scripture. They can narrate the stories of influencers with enthusiasm but struggle to retell the parables of Jesus. What guides their worldview more: the Word of God or the endless feed of Instagram and YouTube? This silent discipleship is subtle but powerful. What the church once did intentionally, algorithms now do invisibly. And unless young people wake up to this reality, they risk being shaped more by screens than by the Spirit.
Isolation in the age of connection: The promise of technology was connection. And in many ways, it has connected us across continents, made communication instant and given opportunities for expression. Yet paradoxically, the more connected we are, the lonelier many feel. Mental health struggles among youth are rising. Depression, anxietyand isolation often coexist with hundreds or even thousands of online friends. Social media offers likes and comments but rarely the depth of genuine friendship or the healing of true community. The digital idol whispers: “You belong here,” yet it often delivers emptiness. This illusion of intimacy is one of the cruelest tricks of digital idolatry.
Hidden bondages: Not every idol is displayed openly. Many are hidden behind the privacy of a locked screen. Among these are pornography, online gambling, endless gaming and even the toxic world of anonymous chats. These silent addictions enslave many young people. Some carry these struggles secretly into church services while their minds are bound by what they viewed last night. In our context, where appearances are guarded carefully, such hidden chains are rarely addressed openly. Yet silence allows the idol to strengthen. The church must find courage to speak into these hidden bondages, offering grace, accountability and pathways to healing. Ignoring them only deepens the wounds.
Faith beyond the screen: Technology itself is not evil. A smartphone can be a Bible in your pocket, a tool for learning or a platform for sharing faith. But like any gift, it can become a curse when it replaces the Giver. The issue is not the phone but the place it occupies in our hearts. The call, then, is to reorder worship. Christ must return to the center. That may mean setting intentional boundaries: digital fasting once a weekor replacing late-night scrolling with moments of prayer. It may mean parents and church leaders modeling healthy use rather than only preaching about it. Above all, it requires honesty: to admit when the phone has become a substitute for God, when the glow of a screen has dimmed the glow of faith.
Reclaiming the youth: If the church does not address digital idolatry, it risks losing a generation to distraction. Faith cannot survive on Sunday sermons alone if the rest of the week is discipled by social media. Pastors, parents and youth leaders must intentionally walk with young people, not just to condemn their struggles but to guide them into healthier rhythms of life. Mentorship, accountability groups and real spaces of fellowship can help youth rediscover authentic community beyond the digital screen. It is not enough to tell them to “switch off”; they must be shown a better way to live and thrive.
The golden calf of the Old Testament was broken and burned because it distracted God’s people from true worship. Our golden calf today is harder to smash because it is convenient, necessary and deeply embedded in our daily lives. Yet if we are honest, we will see how subtly it has claimed a place meant for God alone. Digital idolatry does not look like bowing down to a statue. It looks like spending endless hours staring into a glowing screen while ignoring the voice of God. The challenge for the youth and indeed for all believers is not to throw away technology but to master it, instead of being mastered by it. True freedom comes not when we abandon our phones but when we refuse to let them control our worship. The question every young person must ask is this: Am I holding my phone or is it holding me?