Once in a while, I forget I’m a couch potato and take the risk of leaving my house and socializing, only to be reminded of why I like staying indoors. I then like to surround myself with kindred-spirits; be it a worship night, game nights with friends, a picknick or even a conference.
The last conference I attended was very interesting (to put it nicely). I was baffled by some of the things my eyes saw and my ears heard. After venting, I still found it important to write something about it and immortalize my thoughts somewhere because it’s something that has bothered me for a while now. Some will read this and assume I am against churches, against expressive worship, or even against the gifts of the Holy Spirit. Nothing could be further from the truth. I was raised in a Pentecostal home, both of my parents are pastors, and I have spent my entire life actively serving in church. I believe God still heals, speaks, delivers, and fills His people with the Holy Spirit. I believe in prophecy, in praying in tongues, in fervent prayer, and in worship that engages every part of who we are. My concern is not with these things; my concern is that somewhere along the way, we have confused the manifestations of God with the methods of man, and in doing so, we have slowly lost the fear of the Lord.
When I read the Gospels and the book of Acts, I am reminded of how simple Christianity really is. Jesus did not command His disciples to build platforms, become influencers, or create experiences that people would talk about for weeks afterwards. His final instruction was straightforward: “Go therefore and make disciples of all nations” (Matthew 28:19–20). The early Church devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching, to fellowship, to breaking bread, and to prayer (Acts 2:42). Their focus was never on creating the biggest gathering or the loudest atmosphere; their focus was Christ. Yet today, so much of what is called ministry seems to revolve around personalities instead of Jesus, and around performances instead of discipleship.
We have become obsessed with being seen. Nowadays, every conference has to be bigger than the last, every service has to be louder, every sermon has to produce a viral clip, every prayer has to sound powerful and every worship set has to create an emotional high. Yet I cannot help but wonder whether we have mistaken noise for anointing. Paul reminds us that “faith comes from hearing, and hearing through the word of Christ” (Romans 10:17). People need the Word, not noise; they need to leave our churches knowing Christ better than when they arrived, not simply remembering how impressive the atmosphere was. There is nothing wrong with concerts, conferences, or seminars. But once the Word is missing, we need to ask ourselves whether our gathering was truly for God or for ourselves. If, as humans, we cannot survive on junk food and desserts alone, what makes us think our Christian life can survive without proper nourishment? The atmosphere may be impressive, but if the Word is absent, something essential is missing.
Perhaps what grieves me most is seeing believers who sincerely love God place ministers on pedestals where only Christ belongs. It breaks my heart because this is often how spiritual abuse begins. When a minister becomes untouchable, accountability quietly disappears. When everything they say is accepted without question because they are “the man of God” or “the woman of God,” discernment is replaced with blind loyalty. Yet Scripture never calls us to follow people blindly. The Bereans were described as noble because they examined the Scriptures every day to test whether what Paul himself was teaching was true (Acts 17:11). If the Apostle Paul welcomed his teaching being tested against Scripture, why should any minister today place themselves above that same standard?
This is why I become deeply uncomfortable when I hear ministers repeatedly declare, “God told me,” or “The Lord said,” as though those words carry no weight. Of course God speaks, but Scripture also warns us about speaking presumptuously in His name. In Jeremiah 23:21, the Lord says, “I did not send these prophets, yet they ran; I did not speak to them, yet they prophesied.” Those verses should make every preacher tremble. Not every ‘holy’ thought you have, is a direct message from God and claiming that God has spoken when He has not is not a small mistake; it is a terrifying thing. That is why Scripture commands us to test everything and hold fast to what is good (1 Thessalonians 5:20–21). Discernment is not rebellion. It is obedience.
Another trend that not only frustrates me, but also doesn’t align with the Gospel is the celebrity culture that has entered the Church. Some ministers now arrive with entourages, security, assistants, and expectations of VIP treatment, as though they are celebrities rather than servants. Some expect luxury before they are willing to minister. Others stroll into meetings long after they were scheduled to begin, almost as though everyone (including God) is expected to wait for their arrival. I cannot imagine Peter behaving that way, and I definitely cannot imagine Paul refusing to preach because the accommodation was not comfortable enough. I also cannot imagine Jesus, who washed His disciples’ feet, demanding five-star treatment before He would serve people. He taught us that “the greatest among you shall be your servant” (Matthew 23:11), yet in many places the servant has become the star of the show.
The same can be said of prayer and worship. There is absolutely nothing wrong with praying loudly, speaking in tongues, dancing before the Lord as David did, or lifting our voices in passionate praise. The issue is not the expression but the motive and the context. Paul devoted an entire chapter to reminding the Corinthian church that spiritual gifts should edify the body and that “all things should be done decently and in order” (1 Corinthians 14:40). Order does not quench the Holy Spirit; disorder does not prove His presence. Before leading God’s people, perhaps every minister should prayerfully ask: Will this help people hear from God, or will they only hear me? Will this create space for the Holy Spirit to work, or will my voice and the volume drown out the still, small voice through which God so often speaks?
Sometimes I wonder whether we have forgotten that God does not need our productions to reveal His presence. There was a time when believers gathered with little more than a Bible and willing hearts. Many churches worshipped a cappella because that was all they had, yet lives were transformed, sinners repented, and the presence of God was unmistakable. Today, it sometimes feels as though we believe we need an orchestra, a smoke machine, perfectly timed lights, and deafening speakers before we can say God has moved. Elijah did not encounter the Lord in the wind, the earthquake, or the fire. He encountered Him in a gentle whisper (1 Kings 19:11–13). Perhaps we have become so accustomed to noise that we no longer recognize the whisper.
None of this is written from a place of superiority. I am not claiming to have all the answers, nor am I suggesting that every large ministry or every expressive church is wrong. I am simply asking whether we have drifted from the simplicity of the Gospel. Christianity is not our show to produce; it is God’s Kingdom to steward. Ministry was never about building our names, our platforms, or our influence. It has always been about faithfully pointing people to Christ, feeding them with His Word, equipping them to make disciples, and serving with humility. If people leave our gatherings talking more about the preacher than about Jesus, then we have missed the point. The Church does not need more personalities, more performances, or more noise. It needs men and women who fear God more than they desire applause, who love Scripture more than trends, and who remember that one day they will stand before Christ to give an account for how faithfully they represented His name.
Stay Blessed x
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