1. Introduction
Online engagement has been positioned as the solution to offline problems of equality, building on pervasive narratives about the disruptive impact of technology (
Cheong 2022,
2024). It has been argued that the use of the internet leads to “creolization” of religious discourse (
Anderson 1999, p. 56), and that anyone on the internet can take a leadership role (
Turner 2007, p. 120).
Tsuria (
2024b) argues that digital affordances of anonymity, access, and affordability allow for otherwise isolated and marginalized individuals to gather, access information, and activate to change social norms. However, narratives of equalization regarding digital media and religion have been countered by arguments that inequalities remain largely the same, or are even intensified in online contexts (
Cheong 2024;
Tsuria 2024a,
2024b).
This article critically examines the narratives of equalization in the context of social media use in Hong Kong Evangelical Protestant Christian communities, which we will subsequently refer to as “Hong Kong Christian communities.” These communities were formed online, especially through using #deltaðmovement, a social media hashtag used since social movements in 2013. Prior to this, star pastors usually communicated through sermons, church bulletins, and newspaper interviews. Through #deltaðmovement, some lay Christians without institutional roles were elevated to almost the level of star pastors. Some of these lay Christians, dubbed “Key Opinion Leaders” (KOLs), which afforded them opportunities to publish full-length monographs with local book publishers, engage with star pastors in interviews and public talks, and oversee offline events and meetings. Academic studies and popular articles on social media in Hong Kong Christian communities emphasize how lay leaders use digital technologies to bypass traditional routes to authority, such as sermons given by ordained pastors, and the academic publishing system, with its prerequisites of theological training and institutional status. Ordination and academic credentials were commonly used to determine who taught and made decisions, but through social media, KOLs gain a following despite being in training and without ordained positions (
Chu 2023a). It has also been argued that social media allows for information to be disseminated in ways that were previously not possible (
Lo 2017).
However, online leaders in the Hong Kong Christian community are from largely homogenous demographics. KOLs tend to be able-bodied, straight, ethnically Chinese, cisgender men from Gen Y, and sometimes Gen Z, who are theologically educated, often in Western, Anglophone regions (
Chu 2023a).
Yih (
2022,
2023,
2025b) and Angela Wong (in
Li 2015) have argued that women in offline church contexts lack support and resources. Sexual harassment usually goes unaddressed, even when reported, and gender bias is expressed through unrealistic, gendered expectations and opaque hiring practices. Even when women take leadership roles, they are likely to be in pastoral care and children’s ministry, rather than positions perceived as being higher up or more ‘agentic’ (
Yih 2022). On sexual orientation, Yih has also argued that interactions between Christianity and Confucianism heighten LGBTQ+ Christians’ fear of rejection from the church, as Christians were “pressure to conform to the ‘assigned gendered social script’… aligns with Confucianism’s values of social order and hierarchy” (
Yih 2025a, p. 90). Regarding disability,
Kung (
2023, p. 42) expresses “concern” about whether the blind and visually impaired “have equal opportunity to develop their version of life and share it”. He notes a lack of theological work and opportunities to articulate experiences from this community, and explores barriers such as Chinese dis/ableism, including opinions that a life of blindness and visual impairment is an immutable “curse”.
Shea’s (
2019) study of an evangelical church in Hong Kong, China (Hong Kong) suggests that Christians conceive of individuals with severe intellectual disabilities as inferior in matters of faith, resulting in exclusion from church community. Regarding class, many Christians, owing to church-funded education, medicine, and social welfare, moved from the grassroots to the middle class within one to two generations (
Kwok 2020;
Chu 2023b). Theological education has been made accessible for working-class students through church or other institutional funding, and many of those who went to study in Western countries are proud of ‘pulling themselves up by the bootstraps’ (
Chu 2024). As such, we do not see class as a major factor in equalization narratives.
We suggest that narratives of equalization need to be set alongside the continuing predominance of a certain identity in leadership despite a central role for social media in the Hong Kong Christian community. To frame our research question and hypotheses, we draw on the works of digital theologians
Cheong (
2022,
2024) and
Campbell (
2007), which distinguish between continuities, displacements, and dialectics at different levels of hierarchies.
Cheong (
2022,
2024) suggests that the introduction and use of digital technologies in a religious community can be understood in terms of three kinds of “logics” about power, each of which corresponds with a wave of scholarship on digital religion.
Disjuncture and displacement see technology as eroding traditional authority, allowing for the rise of new positions and resources, lay leaders, and expressions of doubt. The first wave of scholarship emphasizes this kind of logic, as we noted above.
Continuity and complementarity are about technology upholding offline religious authority–official leaders retain power to gatekeep participation and information, and may use technology to further augment their authority. The aforementioned counterwave of scholarship engages with this logic.
Dialectic between continuities and displacements involves navigating tensions introduced by technologies. A third wave of scholarship suggests that offline tensions are replicated online, such that authority can be both weakened and strengthened.
Tsuria (
2024b) argues that anonymity allows the internet to be a place of exploration and meeting with others of a marginalized identity, but also allows for more extreme bullying. Another example from Tsuria is that access to religious texts, combined with social media interactions, allow lay members of the community to challenge traditional authorities, but authorities use the affordances of social media, such as deleting comments, to gatekeep knowledge and inclusion in the community.
Cheong (
2016, p. 104) notes how leaders on social media need to balance a presentation of authority with a relatable online identity, and an easier way to do this is by co-opting a privileged identity. This is why those without a privileged identity face additional challenges from online functions eroding their authority, such as critical comments (
Lövheim and Hjarvard 2019, p. 216;
Klassen and Lofton 2013).
We also propose using
Campbell’s (
2007) framework of four “layers” of hierarchy to investigate which forms of authority continue, are disrupted, or work in dialectic. Hierarchy of
roles is about how authority can change according to the emergence of new leaders and positions, and relationships of accountability or other linkages between online and offline authorities. Hierarchy of
structures of community practice relates to how online spaces can be seen as freeing people from offline structures (e.g., ministry teams) and allowing more social connectivity, although offline religious groups may also impose new structures by monitoring online activities and issuing online policies. Development and sharing of
ideology and identity is reflected in a shift towards understanding the local church as needing to be connected to the online world as a fuller, global realization of the Christian community—although questions remain about whether those encountered in online contexts are seen by offline members as “equal parts or representative” of a faith community, and how far online discourse can work to redefine dominant ideologies (
Campbell 2007, p. 1058; compare
Giorgi 2019). Finally, Campbell raises questions about how
religious texts may be perceived and used online, such as whether texts are cited, criticized, or validated more or less frequently than in offline communities and practices.
Our framework also draws on theological discussions of dispossession, which means “relinquishing one’s own desires that conflict with the desires God intends for them to have, and that conflict with the desires of those one is oppressing—instead placing one’s attention upon God and others” (
Johnson and Robertson 2023, p. 761). Dispossession is a consistent theme through the Old and New Testaments, from dedicated “Jubilee years” prescribing the liberation of slaves, forgiveness of debts, and returning of property, to the ultimate pattern set by Jesus, “who for the sake of the joy that was set before him endured the cross, disregarding its shame, and has taken his seat at the right hand of the throne of God” (Heb. 12:2, NRSV). We acknowledge that dispossession is a concept with deep biblical and theological roots, and to connect with our context of Hong Kong Christian communities, we select two points that emerge from Hong Kong theologians responding to
Gutiérrez’s (
1973) classic articulation of liberation theology. These points help us to formulate our hypotheses regarding whether dispossession is worked out in the use of social media.
First, there is the dispossession of epistemic authority in theology from the elite to the marginalized.
Gutiérrez (
1973, pp. 1–12;
Gutiérrez and Müller 2015) argues for a ‘bottom-up’ theology based on the conviction that the marginalized have unique insight into God’s will in social situations, especially through solidarity with Jesus Christ, who became poor for humanity to proclaim the kingdom of God. Responses within Hong Kong to liberation theology suggest that the problem of epistemic authority remaining with elites is internal to liberation theology itself. Drawing on a study of Hong Kong (and other) theologians’ research on the marginalized,
Checketts (
2025) warns that theologians tend to translate concerns and narratives into the language of academia, which risks distorting and obscuring marginalized voices. Checketts draws on liberation theologian Marcella Althaus-Reid to argue for the importance of multiple, “messy” theologies of the marginalized. Indeed,
Althaus-Reid (
2005, p. 104) uses the example of a website hosting recordings of underprivileged workers as a way to profile the theological knowledge of the marginalized, pointing towards the potential of the online world for creating ‘bottom-up’ theology. Second, there is the dispossession of online attention to offline solidarity. For
Gutiérrez (
1973, pp. 13–25), Christians must enter the world of the poor, sharing decision-making power and wealth. Hong Kong theologian
A. Yeung (
2012) objects to liberation theology on precisely this point, arguing that academic discussion rather than action is prioritized in Hong Kong. Responding to Yeung, Hong Kong theologian
Chiu (
2005) points out that praxis is an end in liberation theology, as it is through involvement in action that theological critiques are established. Applying this discussion to the use of social media, online expressions of theology can be judged by whether they bring about deeper relationships with, and material change for, the marginalized. Giving up power must be matched with moving into relationships with others (
Johnson and Robertson 2023, p. 765).
Combining Campbell and Cheong’s descriptions of the dynamics of power with the orientation towards praxis in liberation theology, as captured by its demand for dispossession, we examine how leaders in religious communities may give up power for the marginalized in the online context. We formulate our Research Question as follows: How can the social media practices of Hong Kong Christian communities interact with “layers” of religious authority—roles, structures of community practice, ideology and identity, and uses of religious texts—according to a logic of displacement of power which leads towards deeper relationships and material change for the marginalized?
Based on our research question, we derived four hypotheses in relation to narratives of equalization about each of the four “layers” of power, based on Cheong’s descriptions. We find Cheong’s categorization to be helpful, as it provides an apt framework for reflecting on the power dynamics of Hong Kong Christian communities, both online and offline.
Hypothesis 1 (H1)—Continuity of Roles. Prominence on social media aligns with privileged identity, reinforcing offline hierarchies of roles.
Hypothesis 2 (H2)—Continuity of Structures of Community Practice. Structures of community practice on social media are co-opted by individuals with privileged identities, limiting participation of marginalized groups.
Hypothesis 3 (H3)—Continuity of Ideology and Identity. Outputs supported by social media presence complement typical understandings of group identity and boundaries of inclusion in the community.
Hypothesis 4 (H4)—Continuity of Religious Texts. Online posts make similar applications and hermeneutic moves to offline interpretations on issues related to the marginalized, entrenching their exclusion from community discourse.
In the following sections, we identify three Hong Kong Christian KOLs: Michael Chee-man Tang (@lifeseeksunderstanding) and his interpretation of queer theology, Tin Tsz-fung (@ideasfung) and his discussion of migration; and Steven W. S. Ng (@galut_hk and @the.alternative.c) and his engagement with homelessness. We find evidence confirming H1 and H2 regarding continuity of roles and community practice. There is more of a mixed picture for H3 and H4, as we find new understandings of group identity and religious texts in relation to marginalized groups, albeit articulated by privileged individuals. We end by suggesting that dispossession of social media visibility requires redirecting attention away from carefully curated content and debates, in favor of “messy” online presentations by diverse members of the community and sustained offline relationships.
2. Materials and Methods
Our positionality is important in our writing of this article, as we are both cisgender, heterosexual, able-bodied women who hold full-time academic positions. Through our embodied experiences, we find that our biological gender dictates the types of interactions we can have online/offline. As such, our personal and research interests are both reflected in this investigation.
We found that using case studies is the most suitable way to test our hypotheses. To select our case studies, we started with immersion in the community, engaging in online conversations. We define KOLs as those who are (1) not already in leadership positions prior to engagement with social media, which excludes existing seminary and divinity school professors (John Chan, Sam Tsang, Kung Lap-yan) and pastors (David Chi-wai Wu, Douglas Reng-fu Wang); (2) users of social media with dedicated accounts for Christianity-related posts, excluding private accounts which would not be suitable for obtaining consent, and group or institutional accounts which are not dedicated to KOL’s sole content; and (3) posting regularly and having influence in the community, with at least weekly updates, meetings with followers (including offline), and mainstream media coverage, such as Christian news outlets.
First, we searched for candidates who are marginalized, but we did not find any account meeting these conditions run by a person known to be from a marginalized group. This aligns with findings of previous studies which show homogeneity along the lines of (dis)ability, race, and gender (
Chu 2023a). We still selected two candidates who are women for comparison, which we discuss in
Section 3.1. Second, returning to the full population of KOLs, through thematic analysis, we identified three accounts with regular mentions of marginalized groups. We chose these to see if they still reproduce privilege. There are limitations in studying three KOLs because others cover different topics and kinds of marginalization. Nonetheless, we find these three are representative and provide a good saturation of the identified themes and materials for analysis. We analyzed posts from the beginning of the accounts to 26 November 2025, identifying instances where they mentioned minority voices. We chose one of the topics related to marginalized groups mentioned the most, that is, homosexuality for Tang, migration for Tin, and homelessness for Ng, and extracted posts they wrote on these topics. Tang’s posts, on occasions, link to his Spotify account, and Tin embedded text passages in his images, so we analyzed their audio recordings and images respectively. Tang, Tin, and Ng are all published authors, and Tang also publishes in academic journals. However, we find their engagements on social media to be most important for this analysis, so we focused on Instagram posts. Each has Facebook, and some have YouTube, Threads, and Spotify, but we found that most content was reposted between accounts. Where Instagram posts linked to other content (e.g., videos, voice recordings), we included this in our analysis.
We used thematic analysis as this is suitable for organizing unstructured qualitative data to identify recurring patterns. After identifying our research question, we focused on collecting data related to posts by marginalized community members, comments responding to them, and references to marginalized communities and their issues (
Braun and Clarke 2021, p. 109). While there were posts on other topics, we did not include them in our analysis. During this process, we took notes and developed ideas for analysis (
Braun and Clarke 2021, pp. 110–16). We then coded the social media posts we collected in NVivo, a Computer-Assisted Qualitative Data Analysis Software (CAQDAS) (
Braun and Clarke 2021, pp. 125–47). This coding process focuses on the marginalized groups relevant to the accounts we covered (i.e., women, LGBTQ+, homeless, and migrants), and the emotions they mentioned in each post (e.g., happy, sad, scared, etc.). Additionally, we also coded how they referred to God, faith, and spirituality. This process helps us with fully engaging with the data in addressing the research questions. This process is important for (1) insights, because our analysis becomes deeper through a repeated process of close engagement; and (2) rigor, because it “ensures a systematic engagement with meaning and pattern across the entire dataset, so the theme development is based on a robust and detailed analytic interrogation” (
Braun and Clarke 2021, p. 127). Through our codes, we develop themes presented below, as themes capture “the patterning of meanings across the dataset”, gathered around a shared topic, and not necessarily a shared meaning or understanding of ideas (
Braun and Clarke 2021, pp. 161–63). We operationalized “layers” and “logics” of power to test our hypothesis. For example, we critically analyze the demographic of the KOLs analyzed, as well as the “fans” who engage with their posts. We then code the narrative in the texts and images they use in their social media post, and compare that against the social context during the time the posts were made.
Our work is in the field of religious studies, employing frameworks about power from digital theology to formulate our hypotheses and anthropological methodology to develop case studies. We also use the concept of dispossession from liberation theology to move between empirical social scientific and normative approaches.
3. Results
3.1. KOLs with Marginalized Identities
We found two examples of women who produce online content, but no other identifiable cases from other marginalized groups. First, Li Si-si was in the midst of a controversial discussion between John Wai-on Chan and Sam Tsang (
Chu 2026). However, she mainly comments on others’ posts rather than establishing her own KOL presence in dedicated theologizing social media accounts. We found a representative example of responses to her contents in an anonymous blog post about debates between Hong Kong theologians. The writer (who reveals himself to be a man) engages with the ideas of the men he mentions, but shifts focus when it comes to the only woman he discusses, Li Si-si:
“Actually, our spirituality is quite strong, we are Facebook friends with Li Si-si. Although we are not like those horny hounds who stalk her page, seeing what she says and like her every post, but we can also witness, she was less crazy in prior years. But in the recent year or two, there is obviously a large group of people who started following her. Whatever she says, there is always likes and dislikes, scraping for likes, even more influential than Mother Teresa, almost like Madonna. That eggs her up and she is more mean, criticizing everybody. We don’t deny that Li Si-si is a beautiful girl. She occasionally posts one or two sexy photos as a bait. As for whether it is because she is pretty enough, that attracts a large group of (male) pastors and lay Christians to stay and like everything, we’re all men, so we understand.”
This example features typical responses to women on social media, such as use of the labels “mean” and “crazy,” sexualization and attribution of popularity based on physical appearance (and the suggestion that this is a deliberate strategy to gain attention), as well as comparison with both ends of a spectrum of stereotypes about women (Mother Theresa vs. Madonna the pop star).
Second, Holly Woo is a non-ordained pastor who worked at the CC&MA SS Church in Sheung Shui in July 2016, and she left Hong Kong permanently in early 2021. She posts on @reorderchurch, a group account, and held an institutional position before her online presence, so she does not fit our definition of KOL. People from institutional churches, including leaders, have responded negatively to her posts. For example, a Facebook “Fan Page” (
Wu 2026) named “Concern Group for Mental Health of Holly Woo and Reorder Church” mentions, among other things, that Woo is “fat.”
As we did not find any person known to be from a marginalized group who fulfils the definition of KOL, we include these two examples to provide some basis for comparison with our case studies of KOLs. We reflect on how our case studies compare with these two examples as we present our findings.
3.2. Michael Chee-Man Tang (@lifeseeksunderstanding)
Tang received his PhD from the Department of Theology and Religion at the University of Birmingham. Alongside theological studies, he works as a music producer and coffee barista. Currently residing in Britain, he describes his social media writings as “alternative theological education,” and often relates to contemporary or newsworthy issues in Hong Kong Christian communities. Tang’s posts and podcasts attract followers from Hong Kong and the diaspora, especially in Britain, with 633 followers on Facebook (since 22 May 2024), 434 followers on Instagram (since 19 May 2024), 181 subscribers on YouTube (since 16 October 2024), 170 followers on Threads (since 5 January 2025), and 418 members on Patreon (since 2 October 2024) as of 1 November 2025. (Tang) The relatively low following is due to a recent change in social media accounts, where he stopped updating a joint channel with a much higher following. As an independent scholar, Tang also writes book-length publications. While he does also write longer prose on social media, he adapts content to suit the needs of his audiences, for example, through using videos and audio recordings.
Between 2022–2024, Tang, together with Eddie Au, ran an online channel @theologylikemcome (1200 followers on Facebook as of 7 April 2026, much lower than when the channel was regularly updated), where they would invite guest speakers, such as Christian KOLs, academics, and pastors, to engage in conversations about theological topics considered to be on the fringe or controversial. “M come” is Hong Kong’s euphemism for the menstrual cycle. This analogy is meant to demonstrate how theology does not have to be serious. Yet, using this euphemism to name a channel hosted by two cisgender men does not provide the sort of inclusivity they hope for. After @theologylikemcome discontinued, Tang started @lifeseeksunderstanding. We find him taking similar approaches when talking about women, for example, commenting on how he “liked women” and has the talent for “picking up girls” when mentioning his interest in women’s studies (
Tang 2024).
Aside from using (what he considers to be) humor in relation to gender, Tang attempts to represent, or at least consider, LGBTQ+ voices through a theological lens. In one post, Tang states that LGBTQ+ issues are often regarded as not needing space for dialogue in Chinese church communities and theological communities. He hopes to broaden believers’ perspectives so that they can understand more about different theological approaches to LGBTQ+ issues before deciding (
Tang 2025c). Tang argues for conversations between those who are for and against LGBTQ+ theologies.
In a podcast,
Tang (
2025b) begins with the caveat that he is a “music theologian”, a term used to refer to those who study and work in theology of music, rather than an expert in LGBTQ+ theology. Nonetheless, he explores how most discussions of LGBTQ+ issues draw on a set number of passages from the Bible: Genesis 19 (Sodom and Gomorrah), Leviticus 18 and 20, Romans 1, and 1 Corinthians 6. He suggests these passages tend to be considered as being universal, across cultures and times. Tang offers his own analysis, drawing on what biblical scholars have said. He argues these passages do not straightforwardly reject or apply to LGBTQ+ issues: Genesis 19 is against violence and being inhospitable, Leviticus 18 and 20 is set within a historical context of Israelite purity laws, and Romans 1 concerns imbalances in power dynamics. Tang suggests using the Bible to condemn LGBTQ+ relationships between equal partners creates secondary victimization. He concludes that balancing love and truth is not a zero-sum game for Christians, and that there needs to be space for genuine discussions.
Tang also recounts an experience interviewing for a position in the Anglican church in England. He was frustrated and surprised to be asked about his stance on same-sex marriage, as he expected to be asked about theological and academic questions. Tang explains that given the amount of suffering in the world, the focus should not be on romantic relationships between two people, but on building communities. Tang claims the same frustration arises in his experience with Hong Kong churches, and argues that Christian ethics is about disagreeing with fellow church members while witnessing Christ together. He suggests discussing LGBTQ+ theology aligns with his role as a music theologian, as music bridges across languages, stances, and pain (
Tang 2025a).
In Tang’s case, we see evidence of a displacement of a hierarchy of lay/formal roles through new community practices offered by social media, as demonstrated by local news reporting that treats him as an influential scholar (
Mai 2020;
Gospel Herald 2025). Tang uses his platform to discuss LGBTQ+ issues, offering his own reading of relevant Bible passages. This demonstrates the potential for social media to allow for displacements in standard ideologies and interpretations, as discussions of LGBTQ+ issues in the offline Hong Kong Christian context tend to advocate against gay marriage (
Ho 2025). Tang also raises the issue that hiring practices are inimical to the inclusion of LGBTQ+ individuals and their voices, as the assumption was that interviewees for church positions are not themselves LGBTQ+.
Tang also aligns himself as part of another marginalized community—the unemployed (
Tang 2026). He suggests his identity as someone without full-time academic employment allows him to connect with his audience. However, the displacement of hierarchy of roles afforded by Tang’s social media presence, together with his academic credentials, means he has become a gatekeeper of his own accounts and pages, and in those spaces, he has power over online community practices and approaches to ideology, identity, and religious texts. This aligns with
Tsuria’s (
2024a) finding that religious leaders retain authority in social media spaces by curating posts and censoring comments. Tang also has the power to set the direction of his community through the language used in his posts. His language about women suggests his intended audience is composed of men. This is similar to the assumption underlying the anonymous blogpost about Li Si-si: “we’re all men, so we understand” (
San 2017). This way of working serves to reinforce barriers to accepting women as having legitimate voices, encouraging further denigrating comments and responses, and signaling that members of other marginalized groups must align with a privileged identity to join in. To open an online space which is truly empowering for marginalized groups, Tang’s choices of language, interlocutors, and intended audience must be informed by his positive vision of an inclusive community of discourse (
Hauerwas 2010, Loc. 1721).
3.3. Tin Tsz-Fung (@ideasfung)
Tin is currently pursuing his Doctor of Philosophy at the Department of Religion at Emory University. Prior to his theological studies, he worked as an occupational therapist. His writings are often related to applying systematic theology to the Hong Kong context. Tin has a more local, Hong Kong audience, with over 7000 followers on Facebook (since 4 May 2019), over 100,000 followers on Instagram (since 7 July 2020), and 3484 followers on Threads (since 3 May 2024) as of 11 November 2025. As a published author and academic, Tin produces book-length content. On his social media, he tends to use captivating images accompanied by text with a limited number of characters, and often includes academic citations in his captions (
Chu 2023a; see, e.g.,
Tin 2021c).
Tin talks about migration and theology in the context of Hong Kong. In one post, Tin considers what Hong Kong Christians can learn from the apostle Paul. Although some Hong Kong Christians use Paul’s life to argue that Christians should stay and face tyrannical powers, Tin argues that Paul did choose to migrate to heaven (Revelation 21:4, Philippians 1:21). Tin reminds Hong Kong Christians that living in relative comfort allowed them to forget their status as resident aliens, leading to a focus on living well in this life. Current difficulties remind Christians of their citizenship in heaven instead (
Tin 2020a). In another post, Tin questions whether migration is a spiritual issue. Citing American workplace theologian R. Paul Stevens, whose work is widely read in Hong Kong, Tin suggests that God gave Christians a blueprint in life, but still gives choices and open possibilities for filling in the details. Tin finds that the issue is not about migrating or not, but about how to respond to God’s calling (
Tin 2020b).
Tin also considers the discussion of pastors who have migrated abroad. Some have claimed that pastors should not see themselves as mere employees, and that by migrating, they have abandoned their congregations. Tin suggests that this is a time of lay pastors, where the congregation pastor each other, instead of relying on professional pastoring (
Tin 2021b). Elsewhere, Tin continues his reflections on this being a time of change, noting that the migration wave has opened many pastoral roles, and new difficulties in handling church-state relationships. Tin compares this situation to dramatic changes due to industrialization and the Enlightenment in 18th-century England. Tin sees that change requires Christians to reflect on how to renew their practices and reflections (
Tin 2022). Tin has claimed that instead of a “Key Opinion Leader,” he is a “Kingdom Oriented Leader,” and he encourages others to see life as a social media channel to spread views on faith (
Tin 2021a).
Tin’s handling of religious texts to emphasize citizenship in heaven works towards the development of local church identity in the online world, as he encourages members of his community to look beyond their geographical and political boundaries and include those who migrated and those who chose to stay. Through a series of discussions on migration, Tin provides a space for Christians to rethink migration choices (or to remain) and to apply religious texts in new ways to their current situation, giving a voice to those who might otherwise feel unable to verbalize or think through their difficulties. He opens a dialectic to be navigated: displacement of identity must work in tandem with displacement of hierarchies of roles and structures of community practice. This is reflected in Tin’s suggestion that the congregation should pastor each other in this new era of practices.
3.4. Steven W. S. Ng (@galut_hk and @the.alternative.c)
Ng received his Master of Divinity from the China Graduate School of Theology in Hong Kong. He is currently a freelance (“slasher”) pastor in Hong Kong. His writings are often related to his ministry, such as reaching out to the homeless around the Mongkok area. He claims he is not attempting to build another church, but instead provides a space for Christians, who may have other church communities or are dechurched, to rethink theology and to serve the neighborhood. His work is very contextualized in Hong Kong, and he often bridges online/offline interactions, so his following tends to be situated in Hong Kong. His @galut_hk account has over 18,000 followers on Facebook (since 28 June 2019), over 12,900 followers on Instagram (since 29 June 2019), and 5179 followers on Threads (since 6 July 2023) as of 11 November 2025. (Ng) Ng’s accounts focus on pastoral and missional work, often including images of his neighborhood with long captions encouraging others to join his work. As his focus is a call to action, instead of entering theological debates like Tang and Tin, Ng’s posts usually tell stories of people he meets, especially during his team’s regular visits with the homeless.
Across a series of posts, he reflects on the nature of relationships with the homeless. Telling a story about building a relationship with the initially shy Brother Qi through visiting twice a week, to the point where Brother Qi allowed Ng to pray for his leg injury, Ng finds their interactions are not just about give-and-take, but being neighbors (
Ng 2025c). He also suggests his role is to walk with the homeless in times when they are hurt (
Ng 2025f). As he is not a social worker, his position is to know people’s names, remember their birthdays, and try to help when people are in need, as this is his calling as a Christian (
Ng 2025e). Ng contrasts his approach with usual Christian understandings of relationships with the homeless (
Ng 2025b). He finds that when Christians volunteer, the focus is to evangelize and get people to go to church, or praying for others rather than making a real impact. He also argues that if there is an underlying agenda (evangelism) then relationships lose their caring element. In his visits, he gets encouragement from the homeless, and he sees these as mutually transforming relationships.
Ng details how those with privilege compound the challenges faced by the homeless in their daily lives. This includes cardboard collectors telling of how they were turned away from attending church, due to their clothes being dirty and smelly from work. Ng responds to this with a call to action, asking readers to join him in visiting these marginalized people (
Ng 2024). Elsewhere, he contrasts the outdoor living situation of the homeless with a nearby block of luxury flats, and promotes a meal gathering for the homeless to treat them as humans with dignity (
Ng 2025a). Ng offers a theological reading of these barriers faced by the homeless–for example, in talking about the Leisure and Cultural Services Department of the Government of the Hong Kong Special Administrative Region clearing the street and throwing out belongings of the homeless, Ng cites Hong Kong theologian Raymond Fung’s “being sinned against” concept to explain the situation in terms of structural sin (as opposed to personal, moral sin) derived from society and forced on individuals (
Ng 2025d).
Ng’s platform encourages displacement of local church identity in the online world beyond usual boundaries such as social class, as evidenced by reaching the dechurched. Church members turn homeless people away from accessing offline church spaces, but through Ng’s sharing, online church members encounter their stories. For Ng, this encounter should not remain online only. He also issues a challenge to usual approaches encouraging people to stay online. For him, online sharing serves to direct people back to their offline contexts, where homeless people (who are not themselves part of Ng’s online community) can be found, and relationships can be established. Offline relationships are a key part of Ng’s understanding of mission in terms of neighborly reciprocity, rather than condescension or coercion. Ng sees himself as someone who can gather dechurched Christians, building relationships outside of traditional pastoral settings inside the church (
The Voice 2023; more about Hong Kong dechurched Christians can be found in
Chu 2025).
Ng offers his own approach to religious texts, as we can see in his reflections on structural sin. Although a structural understanding of sin is not unique to Ng, it is a disruptive approach in the context of evangelical Christianity in Hong Kong. It is possible to consider that some Hong Kong Christians take a more individualistic approach to sin in terms of personal responsibility and the need to repent for immoral acts. Ng uses his accounts of barriers encountered by homeless people to highlight the role of those with privilege in upholding structures preventing participation in society, including church communities, where privileged are contributors to the structure, which perpetuates sin.
Power imbalances may never be fully redressed in social media engagements purporting to represent people without digital access and other basic forms of access, such as housing. Still, Ng’s storytelling approach to theological reflection emphasizes reciprocity and holding those with privilege to account, and this navigation between online/offline communities points towards a resolution.
5. Conclusions
Our personal and research interests motivated this investigation, which we hope will be of interest to academic communities, and inspire further research in this area. Regarding H1 and H2 predicting continuities in structures of leadership roles and community practice, we find evidence in support of these hypotheses. Social media reinforces offline hierarchies of religious roles and structures of community practice. Despite the rise of lay KOLs, online leadership remains concentrated among individuals already aligned with privileged identities, who are comfortable with debate-oriented engagement, top-down gatekeeping, and platform-driven visibility. This limits the full participation of marginalized groups. However, we find a more complicated picture than expected for H3 and H4 predicting continuities of ideology, identity, and religious texts, as there are displacements of ideological authority and interpretation of religious texts, but only through privileged intermediaries who articulate concerns on behalf of marginalized communities. Therefore, ideological and identity-related interventions on social media exhibit a dialectic between displacement and continuity.
Regarding dispossession of epistemic authority in theology from the elite to the marginalized, our findings caution against seeing the internet as automatically well-suited for this kind of task. The KOLs we examined try to decenter the privileged, even though their individual, curated profiles still speak on behalf of the marginalized, rather than allowing for the messiness that comes from platforming alternative voices. Tang is not himself LGBTQ+; Tin is a trained theologian with academic publications; Ng is not experiencing homelessness. In
Wondrously Wounded,
Brock (
2019) discusses his representation of his cognitively disabled son, Adam Brock. Brock asserts that, by letting Adam’s vulnerability be visible to Brock’s readers, it challenges them as Adam, while being represented by his father in writing, is also a citizen of a developed democratic society, the United Kingdom, and a church member. It is this nuance that we find important—those who are represented are complex, and while those who are doing the representation are often well-meaning, it needs to be made clear that no representation is complete. As
Brock (
2019) asserts, in representation, no stories are neutral or value free when told. We have not seen Tang, Tin, Ng, or any other KOLs, reflecting on their privileged position, even though the three KOLs often work towards treating platform visibility as a resource to be given away, such as through repeated in-person visits and calls for offline change. While the dispossession of online attention to offline solidarity is admirable, we find that there is a need to constantly reflect on the position of privilege, and what that means in relation to telling the stories of others. As academic researchers, we also bear our privileged positions in mind as we conduct and present our empirical research.
The application of dispossession may depend on the challenges facing each kind of marginalized community. For those who are already part of the online community but not accorded epistemic authority, such as people who are LGBTQ+ and women, the approach of platforming alternative voices can be helpful, as with the example of the online theological collective co-developed by Holly Woo. For those who are excluded from the online community altogether, such as people experiencing homelessness, offline solidarity is required. Nevertheless, we suggest that the two areas of dispossession are closely related. Deep relationships with the marginalized challenge a reliance on mediated representation. Encountering the full, “messy” range of epistemologies from the margins exposes the inadequacy of remaining at the level of social media content. Dispossession engages with more of a logic of dialectic, requiring acknowledgement that privilege gains both online and offline attention, and commitment to using this to work against this tendency.
This study was based on three KOLs, and we are not saying that they are representative of all Hong Kong Christians. Instead, we hope that what we presented can resonate with those from both Hong Kong and other contexts, and see its relevance in contributing to academic conversations. Additionally, we find that our current account can interact with other accounts of marginalization from various contexts, such as those from feminist theology, womanist theology, liberation theology, indecent theology, and more. We hope that, by presenting our account, we can contribute, in part, to the development of a Hong Kong theology, much like minjung theology from South Korea, homeland theology from Taiwan, China, or liberation theology from Latin America. This preliminary exploration of a Hong Kong theology is derived from the idea of multiplexity of voices. In post-colonial Hong Kong, congregants may have different ways of understanding their theologies, motivated by their life and faith experiences, and their lived theologies need to be valued and further interrogated in academic works (
Chu 2026).