Dank Memes, Shallow Minds
Millions of people use memes to consume information every day. We've addressed significant issues, so we laugh, share, and move on. As a visual shorthand that can convey absurdity, reveal hypocrisy, and occasionally even crystallize true insight, memes have emerged as the de facto language of digital culture. At their best, memes simplify complex observations into memorable forms, much like modern proverbs.
The existence of memes is not the issue. The problem is what happens when they become our primary mode of language and thought about the world. In an age where theological debates are settled with images and political inquiry is dealt purely with a political cartoon, we face a crisis not just of information but of formation. We're not simply consuming entertainment; we're being shaped into a particular kind of thinker, one who increasingly struggles with anything that can't be contained in an image with only a few words.
How the Medium Reshapes the Mind
Neil Postman saw this coming. In Amusing Ourselves to Death, he argued that television was transforming public discourse by privileging entertainment over exposition. "Americans no longer talk to each other, they entertain each other," he wrote. "They do not exchange ideas, they exchange images." Writing in 1985, Postman worried about a culture losing its capacity for sustained rational argument. He couldn't have imagined TikTok.
Another insight comes from Marshall McLuhan's phrase that "the medium is the message" proves prophetic here. The format itself, brief, visual, and emotionally charged content, teaches us that complex issues should be quickly comprehensible, that ambiguity or nuance is a weakness, and that the best response to any argument is a clever retort. Our media consumption literally rewires our neural pathways, as Nicholas Carr showed in The Shallows. We impair our ability to read deeply, pay attention for extended periods of time, and reason complexly when we train our brains to react quickly to information.
It's a cruel paradox. We are starving for wisdom while drowning in knowledge. We turn to what we can handle when confronted with this flood of information: the headline, the trending opinion, the tweet, the TikTok, or the meme. However, this coping strategy backfires. We confuse exposure with understanding, mistaking the sensation of knowledge for true understanding.
The attention economy thrives on this kind of shallow engagement. Platforms aren't built to help us think more carefully; their purpose is to keep us scrolling. With their high shareability, low cognitive demand, and powerful emotional impact, memes are ideal for this system. They provide the dopamine rush of knowledge without the self-control of wisdom.
Scripture anticipated this problem long before social media existed. Proverbs consistently contrasts the wise person who listens carefully with the fool who speaks quickly. "A fool takes no pleasure in understanding, but only in expressing his opinion" (Proverbs 18:2). The fool in Proverbs isn't primarily someone who believes wrong things; it's someone who approaches knowledge wrongly, valuing expression over understanding, reaction over reflection. "Even a fool who keeps silent is considered wise; when he closes his lips, he is deemed intelligent" (Proverbs 17:28).
James echoes this wisdom. "Let every person be quick to hear, slow to speak, slow to anger" (James 1:19). But meme culture inverts this sequence entirely, built on the immediate expression of every reaction and judgment, rewarding those who speak first, react fastest, and hit hardest. Extrapolated out, we see podcasts that address the immediate, political pundits dealing with “Breaking News,” because 10 minutes is too late.
When public discourse operates at meme-level, we don't just lose some needed nuance. We lose the capacity for the kind of thoughtful dialogue that sustains both church and society. Ecclesiastes warns that "the words of a wise man's mouth are gracious, but the lips of a fool will swallow him up" (Ecclesiastes 10:12). Thoughtful public discourse depends on citizens who are willing to engage opposing views with reasoned argument. Meme culture replaces that with a public square built on performance and tribal signaling. The goal is no longer persuasion or genuine understanding but applause from those who already agree.
When Memes Become Hermeneutic
Political cartoons have long used satire to challenge power and expose folly. Memes inherit this tradition but operate at a fundamentally different scale and velocity. What changes when the same format that mocks politicians also becomes our primary way of engaging Scripture?
Our understanding of the Bible is shaped by memes that are even less evidently problematic. The therapeutic platitude "Everything happens for a reason" reduces Romans 8:28 to its specific content. Paul is pointing to God's sovereign purpose to change believers into the likeness of Christ, not providing cheap consolation. Bypassing this expensive transformation, the meme version provides a nebulous divine endorsement of whatever transpires. It's comfort without the cross, theodicy without theology.
When meme-level thinking becomes our default approach to the Bible, we lose the capacity to handle texts that require patience, texts that hold tensions, texts that demand we sit with difficulty rather than extract a takeaway. These mentalities are not limited to social media. They permeate our church community, how we read Scripture together, and how we carry out discipleship. When we are primarily exposed to Scripture through decontextualized verses through memes, biblical literacy suffers. We never learn to follow arguments through books, read entire passages, or comprehend how one text fits into the larger biblical story. Instead of a cohesive narrative of God's redemptive work, we wind up with a fragmented faith that is based on individual verses.
This ultimately leads to a number of problems, the first being that we become a superficial disciple. The gradual process of character development, patient instruction, and consistent attention are all necessary for formation into Christlikeness. However, how can we interact with the kinds of texts and connections that genuinely change us if we can't focus on them for more than a meme? We must spend enough time with Scripture to be challenged by it, not just to find the passages we already agree with, if we are to be disciples.
The second problem is that our community shatters. According to Paul, the church should be able to bear one another, speak the truth in love, and remain united in the face of different opinions within the local body of believers (Ephesians 4:1-16). This calls for the patience to comprehend viewpoints that differ from our own. However, meme thinking turns people into positions, and positions into caricatures. We lose the ability to distinguish between disagreeing with someone and dismissing them entirely.
Lastly, it weakens our overall witness. Peter asks us to be ready to respectfully and gently explain the reason behind our hope (1 Peter 3:15). This calls for the capacity to speak clearly about faith and to take inquiries seriously. Too often, I’ve seen defensive memes and shareable comebacks and calling it “apologetics” to defend the faith, when it is nothing more than shallow thinking to simply score points for those who already agree. Non-Christians don't see thoughtful faith. They see tribal performance. This doesn’t mean that we cater our apologetic methodology to suit the non-Christian; rather, it means if you are following the Biblical format, you wouldn’t be doing this to begin with.
The irony is bitter. The very tools we use to "spread the gospel" may be undermining our capacity to embody it. You cannot meme someone into the kingdom of God. Conversion requires encounter with the living Word, not mastery of internet culture.
The Eternal Word Against Fleeting Words
At the heart of Christianity stands a stunning claim. God himself is Word. "In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God" (John 1:1). Jesus says more than just the truth. According to John 14:6, he is Truth. This Word is a person, not a catchphrase; it is the very disclosure of God's nature and intent.
There is no more obvious contrast with meme culture. By their very nature, memes are fleeting; they go viral one day and are forgotten the next. Christ is eternal, "the same yesterday and today and forever" (Hebrews 13:8). Memes trade in surface-level cleverness. We could delve into Christ's depths for the rest of our lives without running out. Christians run the risk of implying that the Eternal Word can be sufficiently embodied in transient slogans when they accept engagement at the meme level. This goes beyond simple poor communication. The theology is insufficient.
So what do we do? We cannot simply abstain from all memes. They're part of our cultural language now. But we can refuse to let them become our primary mode of engagement. So, a few practical steps to guide how we ought to engage using memes: first, slow down. Take a moment before sharing that meme you agree with. Inquire as to whether it advances true comprehension or merely confirms your preconceived notions. Does it fairly portray opposing viewpoints or does it minimize them to mere comic relief?
Look for more in-depth sources. For every hot take you consume, read something substantial on that topic. Match your meme intake with long-form journalism, careful biblical exposition, or books that challenge your assumptions.
Practice face-to-face dialogue. Real conversation builds the muscles atrophied by online engagement. Seek out people who see the world differently. Listen to understand, not to rebut. You'll be surprised how much sharper your own thinking becomes when you have to engage real people rather than positions. This is why Charlie Kirk was so popular; the culture longs for this.
Guard your approach to Scripture. When studying the Bible, resist the urge to extract quotable content. Instead, read whole books. Follow arguments from beginning to end. Ask what the text meant in its original context before asking what is significant for you. Not everything needs to be memeable. Some truths are meant to slowly transform us rather than quickly impress others.
Model thoughtfulness in your own speech. Whether online or in person, resist the pressure to always have a quick response. Sometimes "I need to think about that" is the wisest thing you can say. When you do speak, use brief but impactful sentences that are meant to uplift rather than depress (Ephesians 4:29).
Develop humility. False confidence, the belief that we have mastered a subject because we have seen a clever summary, is fostered by meme culture. However, admitting our ignorance is the first step toward wisdom. It entails having the courage to admit when we're mistaken and treating people with opposing viewpoints with respect, even if we end up rejecting their view.
Our society values quickness over introspection, wit over wisdom, and speed over depth. There is tremendous pressure to take part. It feels like choosing irrelevance when you opt out. But Christians serve a different kingdom, one where the last are first and the foolishness of God is wiser than human wisdom (1 Corinthians 1:25). But Christians serve a different kingdom, one where the last are first and the foolishness of God is wiser than human wisdom (1 Corinthians 1:25). We don't need to “win the internet.” We need to be faithful to the Word who became flesh and dwelt among us.
This is not a call to intellectual elitism or to abandon accessible communication. Jesus himself used parables, memorable stories that lodged in the mind. But his parables didn't replace depth. They invited it. The Logos who was in the beginning invites us to something far greater than clever comebacks and tribal performances. He extends an invitation to words that bring life, wisdom that endures, and truth that transforms. Our souls have always yearned for the depth that we have been avoiding. Since wisdom ultimately > memes.
