Jesus isn’t safe. And the longer we keep trying to make Him safe, the further we get from who He really is.
We’ve created a sanitized version of Jesus—a gentle motivational speaker who sprinkles feel-good wisdom into our week, stays politically neutral, avoids conflict, and mostly wants us to be nice people. That’s Tinker Bell. It’s NOT Jesus!
That Jesus doesn’t exist. And frankly, if he did He’s not worth following.
The real Jesus flips tables (Matthew 21:12–13). He calls religious leaders snakes and hypocrites (Matthew 23:33). He casts demons into pigs (Mark 5:1–13). He tells rich, successful people to give it all up (Mark 10:21). He demands total allegiance—even over your own family (Luke 14:26).
The real Jesus is dangerous. Not because He harms, but because He disrupts. He shakes kingdoms, flips power structures, and demands your entire life. He doesn’t ask for your Sunday morning. He wants you.
“If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me.” — Luke 9:23 (ESV)
That’s not a self-help plan. That’s a call to die. To your pride. To your control. To your idols.
The Jesus of Scripture walks into storms, not away from them. He embraces outcasts, welcomes prostitutes, eats with corrupt tax collectors, and calls cowards to become courageous.
When people saw Him coming, they either ran toward Him or plotted to kill Him. No one stayed neutral. That’s how you know you’re meeting the real Jesus—not the sanitized one.
The Safe Jesus Keeps You Comfortable.
The Real Jesus Sets You Free.
The sanitized Jesus is a reflection of us. He never offends. Never challenges. Never transforms. He fits neatly into our political parties, lifestyle choices, and Instagram aesthetic.
But the real Jesus? He doesn’t fit anywhere but the throne.
He’s not your homeboy. He’s not your mascot. He’s not even the man upstairs. He’s the King of Kings who walked out of a tomb and claimed authority over your story.
“All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me.” — Matthew 28:18 (ESV)
We keep asking Jesus to bless our plans. He keeps asking us to drop everything and follow Him.
So What Do We Do With a Jesus Like This?
You’ve only got two options.
Keep following the sanitized version. He’ll let you stay the same. He’ll even keep you safe for a while. But ultimately, he’ll fail you—because he’s just a mirror of your comfort zone.
Or follow the real Jesus. He’ll stretch you. Challenge you. Lead you into places you never thought you’d go. But you’ll never be alone. And you’ll never be the same.
“I came that they may have life and have it abundantly.” — John 10:10 (ESV)
Ready for the Bold Life?
If you’re tired of safe religion… If you want more than churchy routines and feel-good platitudes… If you’re ready to go all-in on the dangerous, beautiful, real Jesus—then now’s the time.
Here’s your move: Get a Bible. Read the Gospels (I start with John—it’s fast and raw and shows exactly who Jesus is). Ask Jesus, “What are you calling me to leave behind?” Then leave it…right there…right then.
Don’t settle for a safe Jesus. Follow the One who walks on water, calms storms, and calls dead men out of graves. That Jesus is worth everything.
Want more of this bold journey with Jesus? Shoot me a message or come visit us this Sunday. We don’t do sanitized religion—we follow a Savior who changes lives.
Time for some hard truth and real self assessment. The Church has gotten comfortable. For too long, we’ve relied on cultural Christianity to do the heavy lifting for us. We built impressive buildings, filled pews with people who knew how to play the church game, and assumed that because our communities had churches on every corner, Jesus was winning the culture war.
But that era is gone. And maybe—even probably—that’s a good thing.
We live in a post-Christian world. Christianity no longer holds the cultural dominance it once did. People aren’t coming to church out of obligation or habit anymore. And let’s be real—many of them don’t see the Church as a beacon of hope but as an outdated institution, riddled with hypocrisy and filled with irrelevance.
So, what now? Do we keep tweaking our programs, hoping that if we make church just a little more attractive, people will magically show up? Do we throw in some coffee bars, trendier worship music, and another round of shallow small groups to keep people entertained? Or do we actually do what Jesus called us to do—make disciples?
Moving Beyond Consumer Christianity
For decades, churches have operated like spiritual vending machines: show up, get your inspirational message, grab a cup of coffee, and get on with your life. We’ve trained people to be religious consumers rather than transformed disciples of Jesus. And now, as culture shifts, those consumers are checking out.
But the mission of the Church was never about drawing crowds; it was about making disciples. It was about sending capacity not seating capacity. Discipleship isn’t about attracting people to a weekly service—it’s about equipping people to live out their faith in a world that no longer assumes Christianity as the default. That means:
Getting back to relational evangelism. Jesus didn’t build a marketing strategy—He built relationships. We can’t just preach at people; we have to walk with them. And “we” isn’t the pastors – it’s the men and women and children who make up the church.
Shifting from programs to presence. We don’t need more events; we need more people willing to invest in the messy, real lives of their neighbors. It’s not about calling people out of daily life but embedding ourselves into their everyday routines.
Making faith an all-week thing. Sunday morning Christianity is dead. The future Church will thrive when believers see themselves as missionaries in their workplaces, schools, and communities every single day. This is what we call the places where they live, work and play.
The Church as a Movement, Not an Institution
When Jesus launched His ministry, He didn’t build a brand. He didn’t craft a strategic plan. He invited people to follow Him, to surrender their lives, and to join a movement that would change the world. The early Church spread like wildfire not because they had great programming but because they had people on fire for Jesus. None of these things are wrong, but if they replace our fire for Christ, then they have to go.
Somewhere along the way, we traded that movement for maintenance. We became more obsessed with keeping people in the seats than sending them out into the world. But the post-Christian era is forcing us to reckon with a truth we should have never forgotten: the Church isn’t a building or a brand—it’s a people, empowered by the Holy Spirit, sent into the world to love, serve, and proclaim the Gospel.
The Future is Missional
The good news? Christianity thrives when it’s in the margins. Historically, the Church has always been at its strongest when it wasn’t the dominant power but the disruptive force of love, truth, and grace in a broken world.
So, let’s stop wringing our hands over declining attendance numbers. Let’s stop measuring success by how many people sit in our pews and start measuring it by how many people are sent into the world, living as bold witnesses for Jesus. Let’s be the kind of Church that doesn’t just ask, “How can we get people in the doors?” but instead asks, “How can we send them out as disciples?”
The world doesn’t need another comfortable, consumer-driven church. It needs a movement of Jesus-followers who refuse to settle, who live out radical love, and who bring the light of Christ into a dark world.
If you’re ready for this kind of life transformation, then welcome to the church. If you want soft, then maybe you should find a day spa.
Somewhere along the way, the message of the Church has changed. Not the message of the gospel – the message of the church. The image the church portrays to her members and the community. At some point we exchanged the rugged faith of warriors, prophets, and apostles and it became something tame—soft, sentimental, and, frankly, uninspiring to many men. And the result? A mass exodus of men from leadership in the church.
Jesus Wasn’t a Nice Guy—He Was a King and a Warrior
In case you’re unaware, Jesus wasn’t some passive, mild-mannered guru preaching niceties. He was bold, confrontational, and fearless. He flipped tables (John 2:15, ESV). He rebuked hypocrites with fire in His words (Matthew 23:33, ESV). He faced torture and even death without flinching (Luke 22:42, ESV). The biblical picture of Jesus is of a leader who called men to die to themselves and take up their cross (Luke 9:23, ESV)—not to sit quietly and be passive.
Yet, in many churches today, the message has been neutered. Sermons focus on being “safe,” “kind,” and “inclusive,” while avoiding the reality of spiritual warfare, sacrifice, and the fight for holiness. Church has become more about feelings than faithfulness, about comfort rather than conviction. Men, wired for challenge and purpose, are checking out.
The Church Has Softened the Call to Masculine Leadership
The Bible is unapologetic in calling men to lead. Not to dominate, but to lead with courage, strength, and responsibility. “Be watchful, stand firm in the faith, act like men, be strong” (1 Corinthians 16:13, ESV). That’s not a call to passivity. That’s a call to battle. And this isn’t some anti-feminist message. It’s a message of men stepping up and leading – it’s not about women at all!
But modern church culture often paints leadership as something to be avoided—almost as if strong, decisive, biblically grounded men are a threat. The result? Men either become spiritually passive, letting their families drift, or they leave the Church entirely, looking for purpose elsewhere. Meanwhile, women are left carrying the spiritual burden in the home, a weight they were never meant to bear alone.
It’s Time for the Church to Call Men Back
Men don’t need a watered-down, sentimental version of Christianity. They need the full gospel—the one that calls them to fight the good fight (1 Timothy 6:12, ESV), to become the protectors and providers God designed them to be(Ephesians 5:25, ESV), and to build a legacy of faith (Joshua 24:15, ESV).
The Church has to stop apologizing for biblical masculinity. It has to stop catering exclusively to emotional appeals while ignoring the deep, primal call in a man’s soul to stand, fight, and lead. Men need challenge, mission, and a brotherhood that sharpens them like iron (Proverbs 27:17, ESV). Even the wording we use needs to change. Men’s retreat? The biblical picture of a man is one that does not retreat! Not sure I have a good answer for an alternative but men’s retreats should not be a thing!
It’s time to reclaim a dangerous Christianity—one that calls men to risk, sacrifice, and live for something bigger than themselves. Because that’s the gospel. And if we get this right, we won’t just keep men in the Church—we’ll raise up a generation of warriors for Christ. And a side benefit, we’ll have a surplus of leaders willing to storm the gates of hell with the only message that can change the world.
We live in an age where busyness is worn like a badge of honor. If you’re not busy, you’re lazy. If you’re not hustling, you’re falling behind. But somewhere between the endless notifications, the back-to-back meetings, and the scroll-induced insomnia, many followers of Jesus have lost something far more important than productivity—we’ve lost depth.
The Tyranny of the Urgent
Jesus warned about this exact problem. In the parable of the sower, He describes a group of people who hear the Word, but then “the cares of the world and the deceitfulness of riches and the desires for other things enter in and choke the word, and it proves unfruitful” (Mark 4:19, ESV). Sound familiar? We claim to want intimacy with God, yet we schedule everything else first and then toss Him our leftovers.
We blame our schedules, our kids’ activities, or our jobs, but let’s be honest: we make time for what we value. If we can binge-watch Netflix or check social media for hours each week, we have time for prayer. If we can wake up early for a flight or a workout, we can wake up early to be in the Word.
The Cost of Shallow Christianity
The result of all this distraction? A generation of believers who know church but don’t know Christ deeply. We attend services, maybe even serve, but when the storms come, our roots are shallow. Jesus rebuked the Pharisees for their outward religiosity but lack of true relationship with God, quoting Isaiah: “This people honors me with their lips, but their heart is far from me” (Matthew 15:8, ESV). Ouch.
If we don’t fight for spiritual depth, the world will gladly keep us busy with everything else. The enemy doesn’t need to destroy you; he just needs to distract you.
Reclaiming Spiritual Depth in a Fast-Paced World
So how do we push back against the busyness that suffocates our faith? Here are three non-negotiables:
1. Prioritize the Secret Place
Jesus Himself—God in the flesh—regularly withdrew to be alone with the Father (Luke 5:16). If He needed that, how much more do we? The early church was devoted to “the apostles’ teaching and the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers” (Acts 2:42, ESV). Spiritual depth doesn’t happen by accident; it happens by devotion.
Set an appointment with God and keep it. If your boss called a meeting, you’d show up. If your phone dings, you check it. Give God more priority than your notifications.
2. Sabbath Like You Mean It
Sabbath isn’t a suggestion—it’s a command. God Himself rested on the seventh day (Genesis 2:2). Jesus said, “The Sabbath was made for man, not man for the Sabbath” (Mark 2:27, ESV). Yet many of us treat rest like a luxury instead of a biblical necessity.
Turn off the noise. Stop idolizing productivity. Make space for worship, reflection, and simply being with God.
3. Say No to Lesser Things
Not everything that demands your attention deserves it. Paul warns, “Look carefully then how you walk, not as unwise but as wise, making the best use of the time, because the days are evil” (Ephesians 5:15-16, ESV). That means learning to say no.
No to unnecessary meetings. No to mindless scrolling. No to overcommitment. Every “yes” you give to distractions is a “no” to your spiritual growth.
The Call to Depth
Jesus never said, “Come, be busy for Me.” He said, “Abide in Me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in Me” (John 15:4, ESV).
Spiritual depth isn’t about adding more to your schedule. It’s about removing what doesn’t matter so you can abide in what does. The question isn’t, “Do you have time for God?” The question is, “Is He truly your priority?”
Let’s be honest—being a biblically faithful Christian today feels like trying to stand still on a surfboard in the ocean. Culture is shifting rapidly, and with every new wave of societal expectation, believers face a decision: adapt or fight. But the question is, how do we engage a world that’s constantly redefining truth while remaining unwavering in our faith?
The Tension
To be accepted by culture the demand is that Christians “evolve.” If you don’t, you’re labeled intolerant, irrelevant, or worse. The pressure is real. The temptation to compromise can be strong. Some churches have adjusted their theology to stay palatable, watering down biblical truth to fit societal norms. Others have doubled down, becoming so combative that they drive people away rather than invite them to Jesus.
Neither extreme is the answer. Jesus never compromised truth, but He also never used truth as a weapon to bludgeon people. He engaged culture with love, but He never let culture redefine righteousness. That’s the tension we must navigate.
The Call
Paul’s words to the Romans couldn’t be more relevant:
“Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.” (Romans 12:2, ESV)
We are called to be transformed—not to conform. That means we don’t bend biblical truth to fit cultural trends. But it also means we don’t isolate ourselves in a Christian bubble, screaming judgment at the world with our fists flailing about from behind the safety of our church walls. Jesus sent His disciples into the world, not away from it (John 17:18). Our mission isn’t to withdraw—it’s to engage with wisdom and courage and humility.
The Challenge
So how do we actually do this? How do we live as faithful Christians in a culture that increasingly rejects biblical truth? Here are three essential principles:
Know the Word Better Than the World Too many Christians crumble under cultural pressure because they don’t actually know what the Bible teaches. They follow feelings rather than Scripture. But Jesus said, “If you abide in my word, you are truly my disciples” (John 8:31, ESV). If you don’t know God’s truth, how can you stand firm in it? A biblically illiterate Christian is a culture-driven Christian. Know the Word. Live the Word.
Love People Without Affirming Sin Culture tells us that to love someone, we must affirm every choice they make. But that’s a lie. Jesus loved sinners deeply, but He never left them in their sin. He called them to repentance (Mark 1:15). Real love tells the truth. Real love cares about someone’s eternity more than their temporary approval. Can we have hard conversations yet maintain grace? Can we show compassion without compromising truth? That’s the challenge with which we must wrestle.
Expect Rejection—and Rejoice in the Midst of It Let’s not be surprised when standing for biblical truth makes us unpopular. Jesus promised it would: “If the world hates you, know that it has hated me before it hated you” (John 15:18, ESV). The early church didn’t win the world by being liked—they won the world by being faithful. Christianity was countercultural then, and it still is today. If you’re standing firm and facing pushback, take heart—you’re in good company.
The Mission
The world is going to keep shifting. Morality will keep evolving. But God’s truth does not change. Our job isn’t to keep up with culture—it’s to stand firm in Christ while loving people fiercely. That means embracing the tension, speaking truth boldly, and showing the world that real freedom isn’t found in following every new cultural wave—it’s found in following Jesus.
So, friend, are you ready? The culture is moving. Will you move with it, or will you stand firm on unchanging truth?
Every pastor hears it. The joke. The jab. The wild assumption that preaching a 25-minute sermon on Sunday is the entire workload.
Eh, we usually smile. Maybe laugh. But if we’re being honest? That question stings a little—not because it’s mean-spirited, but because it’s so far from reality.
The truth is, most pastors juggle more roles than people realize. One article claimed pastors carry the weight of 16 different jobs. That’s cute, but I stopped counting after 25.
Yes, we preach. We teach. But that’s only the tip of the iceberg. Beneath the Sunday morning platform is a whole world of behind-the-scenes work—most of it unseen, and a good chunk of it unexpected.
We’re spiritual counselors and crisis responders. We walk with people through death, divorce, depression, and diagnosis. We field phone calls at midnight. We hold babies and bury parents. We lead when things go well… and we absorb the blame when they don’t.
But that’s just the obvious stuff.
Here are a few less glamorous roles that end up on the pastoral plate:
Graphic Designer. Someone’s got to make the sermon slides, flyers, Instagram posts, and event graphics. And no, we didn’t go to art school—we just Googled how to use Canva and hoped for the best.
Tech Support. Why isn’t the livestream working? Why is the mic cutting out? Why did the ProPresenter file disappear? Ask the pastor. Apparently, preaching and IT now go hand-in-hand.
Janitor. Overflowing toilet in the kids’ room? Trash left after the potluck? Glitter explosion from Sunday school? Guess who’s got the keys—and the gloves. I recently was seen taking out the trash and one of our members said wow you’re the garbage man too?
Crisis Communications. Someone offended, a staff conflict brewing, or a sensitive issue threatening to divide the room? Welcome to the world of emotional landmines and leadership triage.
Mediator. When tensions rise between team members, families, or committees, pastors often become the calm in the chaos. It’s less about choosing sides and more about shepherding hearts—without losing our own in the process.
Social Worker. We help people navigate food insecurity, job loss, eviction, addiction, and broken relationships—not with all the answers, but with presence, prayer, and a Rolodex of local contacts. For you younger folks that’s a paper version of the contact list in your iPhone.
So yeah—pastoring is beautifully sacred work. But it’s also messy, heavy, and relentless. It doesn’t clock out at 5 p.m. It rarely fits in a tidy job description. And no, it’s not just “Sunday morning stuff.”
It’s real-life soul work. It’s administrative chaos and sacred silence. It’s wearing 10 hats before lunch and still needing to write a sermon.
But What If You Didn’t Have to Carry It Alone?
If you’re a pastor, you’ve probably asked the question—either quietly or in exhaustion: “Does it really have to be this heavy?”
The answer? Not if you’re willing to build the right team.
But let’s be real. Most churches can’t afford to hire a full staff. Budget constraints are real, and for many pastors, the idea of bringing on communications, operations, or donor development professionals feels like a distant dream.
But what if you actually had access to this kind of support—and so much more—through the right partnerships?
That’s what we found in the FiveTwo Network.
As pastors, we know the Gospel. We know how to do Sunday morning. But what I found in FiveTwo was the ability to better organize and manage the rest of the workload—the part that often gets overwhelming.
Through this partnership, we gained:
Laser-focused ministry strategy that helped us work smarter, not just harder.
Organizational gurus who cleared the clutter and streamlined some of how we operate.
A communications team that didn’t just tell us what to do—they gave us practical, field-tested best practices.
A donor development team that helped us see what we were missing—opportunities for growth, generosity, and long-term sustainability.
Bringing on staff is great if you can do it. But if you can’t, you don’t have to grind yourself into the ground doing it all alone. There are people and networks designed to come alongside pastorsand churches and bring clarity to the chaos.
Because here’s the truth: Ministry done alone is exhausting. Ministry done together? Now that’s unstoppable.
If you’re a pastor or leader feeling the weight of it all—maybe it’s time to ask: Who could stand beside me in this?
I found that answer in FiveTwo. If you’re looking for the same kind of support, I’d love to share more about how this partnership changed the way I lead.
“Prayer flows naturally from a heart of humility and faith—it’s the honest recognition that we can’t do it on our own and the confident trust that God is ready and willing to help.”
Let’s talk about something we don’t often admit out loud in church: A lot of us struggle to pray.
We say things like, “I know I should pray more,” or “Life’s been so busy I just haven’t had time even to pray.” But underneath the excuses is a deeper issue. A spiritual one. One we don’t always see or name:
Prayerlessness isn’t just a discipline problem—it’s a gospel problem.
In Luke 11, Jesus’ disciples came to Him with a request: “Lord, teach us to pray.” That request tells us something about prayer – it isn’t automatic. Even for people who followed Jesus every day, they had to learn how to do it.
And so do we.
Let’s be real with ourselves for a moment. Most of us don’t stop praying because we don’t care. We stop praying because we forget who God really is. And we forget who we really are.
The Real Reason We Don’t Pray
Let’s be honest: If we truly believed we were helpless without God—and if we really trusted that God was eager to help—we wouldn’t hesitate to pray.
We’d run to Him. All the time. But we don’t.
We try to carry it all ourselves. We worry. We stress. We plot and plan and problem-solve… and somewhere along the way, we forget to pray.
Here’s the truth:
Prayerlessness is not about God being distant. It’s about us misunderstanding the gospel.
The gospel tells us two things:
We are desperately in need. (John 15:5 – “Apart from Me, you can do nothing.”)
God is more willing to help than we are willing to ask. (Romans 8:32)
If you’ve drifted from prayer, it’s not because God has changed—it’s because something in your heart has. But the good news? Jesus gives us a way back.
Let’s walk through the prayer He taught His disciples—not as a script to recite, but as a framework for a deep, honest, vibrant prayer life.
“Father, hallowed be your name.”
In Luke 11, Jesus starts where we should start: with relationship.
We don’t pray to a distant force or man behind a curtain. We’re not sending words into the void. We’re coming to our Father—a perfect, holy, personal God who wants to be known.
You are not a stranger in the throne room. You’re a child coming home.
Romans 8:15 says we’ve received the Spirit of adoption, and we cry out, “Abba, Father.” That’s intimate. That’s the language of love.
But He’s not just Father. He’s holy. Set apart. Worthy of worship. And before we ask for anything, Jesus teaches us to remember who God is and why His name matters.
Try this: Before you bring your needs to God, stop and worship Him. Speak His names: Provider. Shepherd. Healer. Savior. King. Worship shifts the focus from your problems to His power.
“Your kingdom come.”
This is a dangerous prayer. It means surrender.
It means laying down our agendas and picking up His.
“Your kingdom come” is not asking God to bless what we’re already doing. It’s asking Him to interrupt our plans with His greater purpose.
This is about living under God’s reign, not just believing in His existence.
Matthew 6:33 says, “Seek first the kingdom of God…” Not second. Not when it’s convenient. First.
Try this: Ask God where His kingdom needs to come more fully in your life—in your family, in your decisions, in your heart. And then… be ready to obey.
“Give us each day our daily bread.”
This might sound like the least spiritual part of the prayer, but it’s deeply holy. Because it’s about dependence.
We live in a culture that idolizes self-sufficiency. We’re told to hustle, grind, plan, and build a life where we don’t need anyone.
And then Jesus teaches us to pray:
“Father, I need You today.”
This echoes back to the wilderness, when God gave Israel manna—just enough for each day. If they tried to hoard it, it went bad. Why? Because God was teaching them to trust. And this prayer is all about us trusting God with even the smallest piece of our day, something like a cracker!
Try this: Each morning, ask God:
“What do I need today?”
“Where am I weak?”
“What am I trying to carry alone?”
And then release it to Him. Trust Him to provide enough grace for today.
“Forgive us our sins, for we also forgive everyone who sins against us.”
Prayer isn’t just about changing our circumstances—it’s about healing our relationships.
This part of the prayer reminds us that we’re still in need of grace. And that God’s grace isn’t meant to stop with us—it’s meant to flow through us.
Did you see what Jesus said there? For we also forgive everyone who sins against us. But do we? Do we really forgive everyone? That’s what this part of the prayer is saying. Forgive us just like we have forgiven others.
The more we understand how deeply we’ve been forgiven, the more we become willing to forgive others.
1 John 1:9 promises that when we confess, God is faithful to forgive. But Jesus ties that forgiveness to our willingness to let go of bitterness toward others. That’s bold. That’s hard. But it’s necessary.
Try this: Ask God to search your heart.
Where do you need to confess?
Who are you holding a grudge against? Forgiveness isn’t forgetting. But it is releasing. And it will set your soul free.
“And lead us not into temptation.”
We all have weak spots. We all have patterns we fall into. And left on our own, we’ll keep walking straight into the same mess again and again.
This final petition is a cry for guidance and strength.
“God, I know I’m prone to wander. I know where I’m vulnerable. Please lead me away from the edge of my own struggles.”
1 Corinthians 10:13 promises that God always provides a way out of temptation. But we have to want it. We have to ask for it. He doesn’t prevent the temptation from happening. He doesn’t just zap us out of those moments. He provides a way out and then we have to use it to escape. If we find ourselves trapped in a temptation, it’s likely because we refused to follow God’s escape plan.
Try this: Be honest with God about your temptations. Name them. Ask for help before you fall. Invite the Holy Spirit to lead you toward holiness, not just rescue you from regret.
The Real Reward of Prayer
After teaching this prayer, Jesus tells a story about persistence. He says to ask, seek, knock—because your Father is listening.
And then He ends with this promise:
“If you then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give the Holy Spirit to those who ask Him?” (Luke 11:13)
Did you catch that?
The greatest gift God gives in prayer… is Himself. Not just provision. Not just protection. His presence.
So What Now?
If prayerlessness has crept into your life, don’t just promise to try harder. Let the gospel reshape your view of God.
You are more in need than you realize.
God is more ready to help than you imagine.
Prayer is not a burden. It’s a lifeline.
So start small. Start where Jesus started. Let the Lord’s Prayer be more than words—let it be the heartbeat of your spiritual life.
Want to take this deeper?
Try one of these:
Pray the Lord’s Prayer slowly every morning this week. Pause after each line. Let it guide your conversation with God.
Write the Lord’s Prayer in your words. What would it sound like if you said it from your life?
Pair up with someone to pray together once a week. Prayer doesn’t grow well in isolation. It flourishes in community.
Let’s not settle for a life where we say we believe in God but live like we don’t need Him. Let’s become people of prayer—not out of guilt, but because we’ve rediscovered how good our Father really is.
He was kind. He was compassionate. He was full of grace and truth. But “nice”? Not in the way we’ve defined it.
“Nice” smiles when it should speak. “Nice” avoids conflict instead of calling out injustice. “Nice” would rather preserve appearances than pursue holiness.
And if we’re being honest, the modern American church is drowning in nice—while it’s starving for truth.
The Gospel Isn’t Polite
Jesus flipped tables in the temple (Matthew 21:12–13), called out religious leaders as “whitewashed tombs” (Matthew 23:27), and publicly rebuked his own disciples when they got it wrong (Matthew 16:23).
If Jesus walked into most churches today, we’d probably form a committee to ask Him to tone it down.
We’ve confused the tone of love with the truth of love. And in the name of being “nice,” we’ve created churches that are conflict-avoidant, spiritual kiddy-pools, and allergic to accountability.
The Fruit of the Spirit Isn’t Niceness
Let’s look at Galatians 5:22–23:
“But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.”
Notice something missing? Niceness. It’s not there. You know what else isn’t there? People-pleasing. Passive aggression. Smile-and-nod Christianity.
Kindness is there—but kindness is strength under control, not cowardice wrapped in fake smiles.
Jesus was kind to the broken, but He was brutally honest with the prideful. That’s love. That’s what the Church needs more of.
Nice Churches Don’t Make Disciples
A “nice” church says:
“Everyone’s welcome—just don’t expect us to talk about your sin.”
“We love you—just not enough to tell you the truth.”
“Let’s all get along—even if it means watering down the gospel.”
But look at Jesus’ final command before the ascension:
“Go and make disciples… teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you.” – Matthew 28:19–20
Making disciples requires teaching, correcting, challenging, and stretching. None of that feels “nice”—but all of it is loving.
A nice church might be full, but it’s often spiritually empty. A bold church might lose people—but the ones who stay will be set on fire for Jesus.
How the Church Can Kill Niceness (And Grow Bold Love Instead)
1. Stop Confusing Conflict with Division Healthy churches should have tension. Jesus created it constantly. Conflict isn’t a sign of failure—it’s often the birthplace of growth. Let your leaders challenge. Let your sermons convict. Let your groups go deep.
2. Preach the Whole Gospel The gospel includes grace and repentance, love and truth, mercy and obedience. If your messages never offend anyone, you’re probably not preaching the same gospel Jesus did. Caution: you don’t have to preach the whole counsel of God at once though!
3. Practice Biblical Confrontation Matthew 18 gives a model for calling out sin—in love, privately first, and then more directly if needed. Most churches avoid this altogether, opting for passive silence or church gossip. Let’s bring back real accountability. Heck let’s bring back the real church not this postmodern game of pretend we play on Sunday.
4. Raise the Bar, Don’t Lower It Jesus never lowered the standard for anyone—but He always offered the strength to meet it. Don’t coddle Christians. Call them up. People crave challenge more than comfort—they just don’t always know it yet.
Kindness Changes Lives. Niceness Just Numbs Them.
You can be polite all the way to someone’s spiritual deathbed.
Nice Christians won’t change the world. They’ll just blend into it.
But bold, truth-filled, Spirit-led disciples? They’ll shake foundations, flip tables, love radically, and speak life with power.
Jesus wasn’t crucified for being nice. He was crucified because He told the truth in love—and the world couldn’t handle it.
Let’s stop being nice churches. Let’s be dangerous churches—the kind hell fears and heaven empowers.
Imagine walking into your favorite worship service: the lights dim, the audio swells as the band begins a movingly beautiful version of “Gratitude.” To use a phrase from my teenage daughter the vibe is on point. You raise your hands. You feel it. You really feel close to God.
But here’s the haunting question: Were you worshiping God—or just enjoying the atmosphere?
Don’t get me wrong—worship is meant to be beautiful. Emotional. Immersive. But too often in the modern church, we’ve slipped into something dangerous: worshiping the feeling of worship rather than the One we’re supposed to be worshiping.
It’s spiritual consumerism with a Jesus sticker on it.
The Golden Calf Got an Upgrade
Let’s not kid ourselves—we’re not the first to get this wrong. In Exodus 32, the Israelites got impatient and created a golden calf. But catch this: they still called it worship.
“Tomorrow shall be a feast to the Lord.” – Exodus 32:5
They used God’s name but shaped worship in a way that pleased them.
Fast forward to today—how different is that from the church that obsesses over the perfect setlist, fog machine, or the emotional arc of a worship service?
When our attention shifts from God’s presence to our preferences, we’ve made an idol—even if it’s dressed in beautifully moving harmonies.
But before you start shaking your fist at all those modern worship folks with your derogatory comments about “co-wo” (short for contemporary worship). The traditional camp can fall into the same trap when it comes to worship.
When Tradition Becomes the Golden Calf
Worship can become just as hollow when we cling to rituals and styles more than the Savior they’re supposed to point us to.
Jesus warned the Pharisees about this very thing:
“These people honor me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me. They worship me in vain; their teachings are merely human rules.” – Matthew 15:8–9
It’s possible to sing hymns with perfect four-part harmony, recite the liturgy by memory, and still completely miss the heart of God.
When our posture becomes, “We’ve always done it this way,” we need to ask: Are we preserving reverence—or just protecting our preferences?
Reverence is beautiful. But repetition without heart is just noise.
What the Bible Actually Says About Worship
Worship in Scripture has little to do with music and everything to do with surrender.
“Therefore, I urge you… to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—this is your true and proper worship.” – Romans 12:1
Real worship costs something. It requires sacrifice. It often feels more like obedience in the mundane than a spiritual high on a Sunday.
David got this too:
“I will not offer burnt offerings to the Lord my God that cost me nothing.” – 2 Samuel 24:24
Modern translation? “I won’t just show up and sing if my heart isn’t submitted.”
3 Ways the Church Can Reclaim Authentic Worship
1. Teach Worship as Lifestyle, Not Just Music We must preach and model that worship isn’t a genre. It’s a posture. It’s how you treat your spouse. How you handle your money. How you speak to the barista. Sunday morning is just the overflow.
2. De-Platform the Stage It’s time to stop building celebrity culture around worship leaders. They aren’t rockstars; they’re humans. This goes for the ones in skinny jeans and the ones in robes. Their role is to point people to Jesus, not themselves. Let’s start emphasizing participation over performance.
3. Get Uncomfortable on Purpose If worship always feels good, it’s probably not deep enough. Introduce silence. Challenge people to sing unfamiliar songs with lyrics that have some depth. Create moments that stretch people beyond emotional highs into true reverence.
So… What If the Music Stopped?
Would we still worship if the lights stayed on and the guitar was out of tune? If the lyrics were scribbled on a chalkboard and there was no click track in our ears? Would we worship if there was no organ, no robe, and the doxology didn’t make the cut?
Because God hasn’t changed. He is still holy, still near, and still worthy.
The truth is: Jesus doesn’t need a vibe – or a vintage – to be adored.
Let’s not confuse the atmosphere for the Almighty.
Let’s not mistake tradition for truth.
Let’s be a church that loves the Giver more than the gift.
Let’s worship in spirit and in truth (John 4:24)—not just in sound and stagecraft or stained glass and stoles.
We’ve got our doctrinal ducks in a row. We know the creeds. We defend the truth. We believe in Jesus, we believe in the Bible, we believe in grace.
But if belief is all we’ve got—if it never grows legs, never rolls up its sleeves, never does anything—then our faith is on life support.
James doesn’t mince words, so let’s not either:
“Faith by itself, if it does not have works, is dead.” (James 2:17, ESV)
Dead. Not dormant. Not developing. Dead.
That should rattle us. Because we’ve built a version of Christianity in the modern world that’s all about belief—but stripped of action. We’ve traded cross-bearing for pew-sitting. We’ve made Christianity a mental exercise, not a lifestyle. A Sunday ritual, not a daily surrender.
James takes aim at this hollow version of faith:
“You believe that God is one; you do well. Even the demons believe—and shudder!” (James 2:19, ESV)
Think about that. Demons have great theology. They believe in God. They know who Jesus is. But they’re not saved. Why? Because belief without obedience is worthless. It’s lip service without life change.
This is where we need a serious wake-up call.
If your faith never moves beyond your brain—if it doesn’t spill into how you love your neighbor, serve your church, speak truth, forgive enemies, and sacrifice for the sake of the Gospel—then it’s not faith. It’s theory.
And theory doesn’t change the world.
Let’s get something straight: We are not saved by works. Paul couldn’t be more clear:
“For by grace you have been saved through faith… not a result of works.” (Ephesians 2:8–9, ESV)
But too many people stop reading there. Verse 10 isn’t a suggestion—it’s a call to action:
“For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.” (Ephesians 2:10, ESV)
You weren’t saved to sit. You were saved to move. To serve. To do good works.
Real faith shows up. It gets uncomfortable. It forgives when it’s hard. It gives when it hurts. It risks boldly. It takes up a cross. If your faith costs you nothing, it’s probably not faith—it’s just belief with a Jesus bumper sticker.
Jesus never said, “Believe in me and live your best life.” He said, “Deny yourself. Take up your cross. Follow me.” (Luke 9:23)
There’s no world where that’s comfortable.
But we’ve made faith safe. Predictable. Tame. And that kind of faith doesn’t scare the devil one bit.
Here’s the bottom line: Faith that doesn’t do anything is faith that isn’t anything. James doesn’t care about your belief unless it leads to bold, visible, tangible action.
So don’t let belief kill your faith. Don’t hide behind good theology while your heart stays untouched. Don’t nod through sermons while your hands stay clean. Don’t settle for head knowledge when Jesus is calling you to whole-life surrender.
We don’t need more people who believe the right things—we need people whose belief burns so hot it sets their lives on fire.
