Modern evangelical churches have spent the last twenty years trying very hard to prove something. Not that the gospel is powerful. Not that the Word of God is sufficient.
No—they are trying to prove that the average Christian cannot possibly sit through a church service without being entertained. Apparently Christians today have the attention span of a middle-schooler with an iPad, which explains why so many church services now feel like theme parks with a mini sermon somewhere in the middle.
I’ve attended those churches, too…if you even want to call them churches. Goat farms, really. This time, I’m not talking about the sappy, low-lighting fog-machine emotional manipulation of the worship music, though much is the same. But the ones where the room now looks like the lobby of a movie theater on opening night.
Giant posters line the walls. Cardboard cutouts of superheroes stand beside the welcome desk. There’s popcorn in the foyer. A sermon series graphic fills the screen behind the stage with the subtlety of a summer blockbuster trailer.
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“At the Movies—Week Three.”
The band finishes their set. The lights dim. A clip from a Hollywood film suddenly fills the sanctuary wall—explosions, orchestral swelling, dramatic dialogue echoing through the speakers.
And then the pastor walks out.
Not with an open Bible.
With a remote control.
We’re about to break down the spiritual lessons of Top Gun: Maverick.
Now look—I’m not confused about where I am. I know I didn’t accidentally wander into a youth group lock-in from 1998. This is supposed to be church. A gathering of Christ-followers to worship the living God and sit under the preaching of His Word.
But somewhere along the way, a quiet assumption crept into modern evangelicalism—a bleak little premise sitting underneath all the lights and sermon graphics and stage props:
Christians cannot handle seriousness.
At least, false converts can’t.
They can’t sit still for very long. They can’t listen to sustained preaching. They can’t wrestle with doctrine or endure weighty truth. Their attention spans are too fragile, their interest too shallow, their patience too thin.
And so the service must entertain them.
Entertain them we do.
Pastors now preach from dumpsters—literally climbing into piles of trash bags to deliver object lessons about spiritual clutter. Entire sermon series are built around Hollywood movies. Secular pop songs blast through sanctuary speakers so the preacher can pivot into a life application moment. Video clips roll, props roll across the stage, jokes land like punchlines in a comedy set, and the whole thing unfolds with the pacing of a daytime talk show.
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Everyone smiles politely as if this is completely normal behavior for grown adults gathered to worship the King of Kings.