What Media Can Teach The Church

Bricks in a circle.

This last week, my office manager Jill and I took a day trip to Oregon State University to attend a presentation by Oregon Public Broadcasting (OPB). The event was about how OPB is building community in—yes, you guessed it—“these unprecedented times.”

Can I just say it?

I’m tired of that phrase.

What time in history hasn’t been full of challenge, change, and uncertainty? Still, despite the overuse of that tagline, the conversation with OPB was deeply inspiring. And it got me thinking—not just about the future of public media, but about the future of the Church.

Public media is under pressure—financially, culturally, and politically. In a world driven by algorithms and outrage, OPB is still doing the sacred work of listening, curating, and connecting.

That sounds a lot like what the Church is called to do.

One of OPB’s core messages that day was this: “You have to think digital first.” They recognize that people are no longer tethered to the 6 p.m. news. People arent teathered to Sunday morning worship alone. They stream. They scroll. They listen to podcasts during commutes and check notifications during dinner.

So OPB is adapting. They're building platforms to meet people where they are—with push alerts, newsletters like First Look, engaging audio stories, and shared content across partnerships with KLCC and Jefferson Public Radio. It’s not just about information; it’s about presence.

And isn’t that exactly what the Church should be about?

One thing I noticed as I looked around the room: Jill and I were some of the youngest people there. We are not spring chickens. And I couldn’t help but wonder—will public broadcasting go the way of so many local Protestant churches? Aging, underfunded, uncertain.

But what gave me hope was this: everything OPB is doing is rooted in a multifaceted, audience-centered approach. They are constantly asking:

• How do people engage?

• What do they need?

• How do we reflect the diversity of those we serve?

Churches need to be asking the same questions.

When OPB talked about shared services and shared content, I found myself wondering: What would it look like for churches to offer shared services to community partners—not just buildings, but vision, ministry, and mutual support?

OPB isn’t trying to be a big umbrella that covers everything. Instead, they describe their network as a patchwork quilt—big and small pieces stitched together. Yes, OPB and NPR and PBS are large institutions, but partnerships with smaller stations like KLCC and Jefferson Public Radio are what allow real, local connection—especially in rural areas.

That’s a model the Church can embrace too: not one congregation trying to do everything, but many churches and organizations working together to create beauty, warmth, and belonging.

So what if we started thinking about Church the way OPB thinks about public media?

Not just a Sunday stop, but a trusted, daily presence.

Not just a building on the edge of town, but a resource people carry with them—in their pockets, playlists, and prayer lives.

Not just a legacy system, but a living, breathing patchwork of joy, wonder, and awe.

Our congregations can feel like legacy systems at times—built for a world that no longer exists. But they can also become something new. Something digital and tangible. Something sacred and responsive. Something deeply rooted and wide open.

Toward the end of the OPB presentation, someone asked a question about the sheer number of creators in Oregon—artists, scientists, musicians, storytellers, and everyday purveyors of awe. The conversation reminded me: sometimes the best way to move through uncertainty isn't more data or control.

It’s more awe.

And that, too, is a lesson for the Church. We can offer space for wonder. We can be curators of joy. We can point not just to answers—but to the deep, holy mystery of being human and beloved.

We’re all trying to figure out how to be relevant, meaningful, and connected in a rapidly changing world. Whether you’re in public media or ministry, the call is the same:

• Be present.

• Be trustworthy.

• Be collaborative.

• Be rooted in joy.

So maybe I’ll retire my irritation with the phrase “unprecedented times.” Or at least reframe it. Because what if these are not just uncertain times—but opportune ones?

Times that invite us to reimagine what it means to:

• Serve

• Create

• Belong

And tell the stories that hold us together.

Do you want to help build joy-filled, inclusive spaces—spaces where community is cultivated and awe is not an afterthought? Let’s talk. Or better yet, tune into your local public radio station and ask yourself:

Where do I get my content—and how do I help others find meaning in theirs?

It’s a good question. For OPB.

For the Church.

And for all of us.