By Rev. Marty Levesque
In the Japanese tradition of Kintsugi, when a piece of pottery breaks, they don't throw it away or hide the cracks. Instead, they repair the fractures with gold. The philosophy, known as Wabi-Sabi, suggests that the object is actually more beautiful for having been broken. Its history, its scars, and its imperfections are exactly what make it valuable.
We are currently living through a period of AI fatigue. Our feeds are flooded with synthetic perfection, AI-generated faces with perfect white teeth, AI-written prayers that never stumble, and AI-designed church graphics that look like they were made in a lab. But people are pushing back. We are developing a visceral hunger for something that AI simply cannot fake: the human factor.
For too long, we’ve treated our digital presence as polished front doors. We only post the best photos, the best choir anthems, and the most together versions of ourselves. But the world doesn't need a museum right now; it needs a hospital.
If we want to reach the seekers of 2026, we need to stop airbrushing our faith. We need to embrace Wabi-Sabi Evangelism. This is the art of finding the holy defect, the beauty in our rough edges, and the repaired brokenness.
What does this look like in practice? It looks like moving from performance to presence. A low-light, slightly shaky video of a parishioner lighting a candle for a loved one is infinitely more evangelistic than a high-def stock photo of a "praying person." Why? Because it’s real. It has the weight of actual human prayer behind it.
Likewise, don’t edit out the sound of the toddler shouting during the sermon or the priest losing their place in the liturgy. These aren't "mistakes" to be hidden; they are proof that the Church is a living, breathing family of fallible people.
And instead of posting Everything is great at All Saints’, try posting: "It’s been a heavy week in our neighbourhood. We don’t have all the answers, but we have a seat at the table for you."
AI can mimic our language, but it cannot mimic our struggle. It can generate a sermon on grief, but it has never sat at a bedside or felt the weight of a hand on a shoulder.
When we lead with our imperfections, we lower the barrier for the seeker who feels "not good enough" for the church. If the priest has a crack in his armour, maybe the seeker can bring their brokenness into the sanctuary, too.
In a world of digital slop and manufactured perfection, the most radical thing we can offer is our authenticity. We aren't here to show the world how perfect we are; we are here to show them how loved we are despite our flaws.
Rev. Marty Levesque is the rector of All Saints’ in Waterloo. He served as diocesan social media officer.
Photo: Lorena Straffi Dillon/Unsplash