October 31st, 2025
by Valeta Baty
by Valeta Baty
Why the Modern Church Lacks Awe and Power
“The glory of God is present not in the showy performance of religion but in the humble, faithful pursuit of Christ. The Church today is far too concerned with glamor rather than glory.”
Eugene Peterson
“We have to be careful not to fall into the trap of the ‘comfortable church,’ where we measure success by attendance or activity. Power comes when we forget ourselves and focus on God’s glory.”
Francis Chan
“The glory of God is the great end for which we are to live. The church, in order to live and move with power, must center itself on the greatness and the glory of God.”
John Piper
“Give me one hundred preachers who fear nothing but sin, and desire nothing but God, and I care not a straw whether they be clergymen or laymen, they alone will shake the gates of hell and set up the kingdom of heaven on earth.”
John Wesley
“The Church in the modern world has reduced the message of the gospel to something palatable and self-serving. Power in the Church only comes when we recover the awe of God’s holiness and glory.”
J. I. Packer
“The church is in danger of becoming a cultural institution instead of a holy community of believers. When we lose the awe of God’s presence, we cease to live in the power He has for us.”
Billy Graham
Eugene Peterson
“We have to be careful not to fall into the trap of the ‘comfortable church,’ where we measure success by attendance or activity. Power comes when we forget ourselves and focus on God’s glory.”
Francis Chan
“The glory of God is the great end for which we are to live. The church, in order to live and move with power, must center itself on the greatness and the glory of God.”
John Piper
“Give me one hundred preachers who fear nothing but sin, and desire nothing but God, and I care not a straw whether they be clergymen or laymen, they alone will shake the gates of hell and set up the kingdom of heaven on earth.”
John Wesley
“The Church in the modern world has reduced the message of the gospel to something palatable and self-serving. Power in the Church only comes when we recover the awe of God’s holiness and glory.”
J. I. Packer
“The church is in danger of becoming a cultural institution instead of a holy community of believers. When we lose the awe of God’s presence, we cease to live in the power He has for us.”
Billy Graham
There was a time when the presence of God was not merely referenced, it was feared. The early Church moved slowly, carefully, as though aware that something holy might break loose at any moment. Power was not scheduled; it descended. Awe was not manufactured; it fell. Today, the Church builds faster, louder, glossier, but who trembles? Who walks in? Who dies? “Great fear came upon the whole church and upon all who heard of these things” (Acts 5:11, ESV). That was not a fear taught in a series. It was not a reverence stitched into a worship set. It was not the branding of a new movement. It was God. And God had drawn near. We speak of revival. We plan for it. Market it. Schedule it between coffee and the kids’ wing. But when the Church prays for power without holiness, what exactly is it asking for? Influence without crucifixion? Applause without exposure? We cannot have the fire of Pentecost if we will not allow the judgment of Ananias. And perhaps that is the hidden desire: to have the wind without the weight.
The Seduction of the Spectacle
It is difficult to kneel when the stage is high and the spotlight is warm. Difficult to whisper “holy” when the atmosphere is curated to impress. We now call it presence when the room is emotionally thick, when voices rise, when lighting dims just so. But the early Church had no such props, only prayer, trembling, repentance, and the raw presence of a God whose nearness often meant danger. There is a spectacle in our modern churches, there may be smoke machines, but there is no smoke on the altar. No fire consuming the offering. No silence thick with the weight of Him who once filled the temple with glory such that the priests could not stand to minister (2 Chronicles 5:14). Today, we do not even pause. We have become choreographers of feeling. Masters of ambiance. Experts in the psychology of worship. And yet, what we lack is not emotional impact, it is holy fear. And without fear, there is no fire. “The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom” (Proverbs 9:10. ESV). It is not optional. It is not cultural. It is the threshold of everything sacred. If that threshold is removed, what remains is a church that sings to itself, preaches to its preferences, and protects its platforms, all while claiming to represent a God who is nowhere near.
The Disappearance of Cost
Comfort does not produce power; it consumes it. The early Church had no illusions of safety. To follow Christ was to bleed, to lose, to die. There was no cultural leverage, no safety net, no sense of entitlement, but there was purity and there was unity, and there was unmistakable power. “Then Jesus told His disciples, ‘If anyone would come after Me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow Me’” (Matthew 16:24, ESV). The early believers lived this reality daily: “They left the presence of the council, rejoicing that they were counted worthy to suffer dishonor for the name” (Acts 5:41, ESV). But that sentence could not be written today. Our idea of suffering is inconvenience. Our idea of spiritual warfare is criticism. Yet, we wonder why the Church carries no weight. A crossless Christianity will always be hollow. It may grow. It may influence. But it will not convict, and it will not last. The cost has not disappeared; it has simply been shifted. It is no longer paid in blood but in silence, no longer in chains, but in powerlessness. The early Church had no branding, no buildings, no budgets. It had only a crucified Christ and a risen King. And that was enough. But we, having so much, seem to lack the one thing they could not live without: the Spirit Himself.
When the Platform Becomes the Pulpit
A man steps out, his image larger than life on the screen above. The lights meet his face before the Word meets his mouth. His words are warm, curated, approved. His theology grazes the edge of truth but rarely steps fully into it. His shoes cost more than some families tithe in a year. His ride, a Ferrari, a jet, parked behind the building, where the veil of opulence is never torn. I am not mocking, but there is no point pretending anymore, we have invented a new priesthood, not of broken men made holy, but of branded men made wealthy. They are called “influencers.” They are called “leaders.” And they are followed, adored, platformed, even worshipped. But rarely are they feared, and rarely, if we are honest, are they holy. The man now resembles the king Israel begged for: tall, impressive, commanding, and utterly disconnected from the altar. “They have not rejected you,” God told Samuel, “but they have rejected Me from being king over them” (1 Samuel 8:7, ESV). It is no different now. We want a man we can see. A man who will fight our battles, speak our sermons, carry our convictions, look the part, so that we can be comfortable, and God can remain at a distance. But the lampstand cannot be carried by celebrities, it was made to rest upon a priesthood that reveres the Lord.
Worship Without Consecration
It is possible to sing songs that sound biblical and remain completely untouched by God. It is possible to lift hands in a room that feels full, and still be entirely alone. The modern church worships in a way that moves the body but not the soul. A worship that generates sound but is not still before God. Worship that generates emotion but not repentance. In the Bible, people did not schedule intimacy, they lived it daily because their worship was not designed; it erupted. Their tears were not atmospheric; it was blood-born. “They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers... and awe came upon every soul” (Acts 2:42–43, ESV). Where is the awe that came upon EVERY soul? I will tell you where...we sing now for a crowd, we write songs for the market, we perform worship and we call it an encounter. But the God who dwells in the fire does not come for performances. He comes for sacrifice and holiness, because the song He responds to is not in a certain musical key, it is in the key of sacrifice; “a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise” (Psalm 51:17, ESV).
The Spirit Will Not Compete
You see, where the flesh is enthroned, the Spirit departs because He will not clamor for position and will not remain where pride governs the room. We may continue the meeting and our metrics may hold, but God’s glory has departed. There is a frightening line in Ezekiel: “The glory of the LORD went up from the midst of the city and stood on the mountain that is on the east side of the city” (Ezekiel 11:23, ESV). It withdrew and no one noticed. Why? Because once the mechanics are built, once the structure is strong enough, we no longer need the Spirit, and perhaps that is the goal: An efficient church, one that does not require the fire to fall, and does not desire trembling. The early Church did not operate in efficiency, but rather in dependency. They waited, listened, wept, fasted, and fell to their knees, and in doing so, turned cities, and eventually empires, upside down. We cannot microwave what took them years of suffering, of prayer, of repentance, of power. We cannot mimic their outcomes without adopting their altars.
When God Is No Longer Feared
Everything unravels when God is no longer feared because holiness becomes optional and repentance rare. Sin is managed, not mortified, we exalt leaders to places they were never meant to stand, and the rest of us become consumers. The Church, once the dwelling place of the Most High, becomes a conference center with a cross. But here is the thing, reverence cannot be taught by volume and it is not provoked by instrumentation. Reverence is born when the weight of God rests on a people who have surrendered every other allegiance. The fear of the Lord is the soul’s recognition that it stands before One who is holy beyond comprehension. We teach that fear of the Lord is simply “respect,” because trembling makes us uncomfortable. But the early disciples lived a reality that can only exist when God is not treated as manageable, predictable, and non-intrusive. But God cannot be tamed, He is not curated, and He is not a brand. He is the God who speaks in fire, who walks in glory, who dwells in unapproachable light (1 Timothy 6:16).
Dear reader, we are not waiting on revival. Heaven is waiting on repentance. The path back is not through the fog machines. It is not found in better systems and it is not secured through greater reach. It is through the altar. The tearing. The trembling. “Those whom I love, I reprove and discipline, so be zealous and repent” (Revelation 3:19, ESV). The lampstand has not yet been removed, but it is flickering. The fire has not yet gone out, but it is cold in many sanctuaries. There is still time to return. But we must return all the way. Not just to sound doctrine, but to holy fear. Not just to right practices, but to burning hearts. Not just to powerful gatherings, but to consecrated lives. We cannot keep our idols and host His presence. We cannot entertain the crowd and expect the cloud. We cannot adore the famous and still see the fire. But if we cast down every high thing, every idol, every ambition, every counterfeit glory, He will manifest. And when He manifests, the Church will not need to market itself. It will be feared. It will be holy. It will be alive. And the world will know again that God is in the midst of her.
The Seduction of the Spectacle
It is difficult to kneel when the stage is high and the spotlight is warm. Difficult to whisper “holy” when the atmosphere is curated to impress. We now call it presence when the room is emotionally thick, when voices rise, when lighting dims just so. But the early Church had no such props, only prayer, trembling, repentance, and the raw presence of a God whose nearness often meant danger. There is a spectacle in our modern churches, there may be smoke machines, but there is no smoke on the altar. No fire consuming the offering. No silence thick with the weight of Him who once filled the temple with glory such that the priests could not stand to minister (2 Chronicles 5:14). Today, we do not even pause. We have become choreographers of feeling. Masters of ambiance. Experts in the psychology of worship. And yet, what we lack is not emotional impact, it is holy fear. And without fear, there is no fire. “The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom” (Proverbs 9:10. ESV). It is not optional. It is not cultural. It is the threshold of everything sacred. If that threshold is removed, what remains is a church that sings to itself, preaches to its preferences, and protects its platforms, all while claiming to represent a God who is nowhere near.
The Disappearance of Cost
Comfort does not produce power; it consumes it. The early Church had no illusions of safety. To follow Christ was to bleed, to lose, to die. There was no cultural leverage, no safety net, no sense of entitlement, but there was purity and there was unity, and there was unmistakable power. “Then Jesus told His disciples, ‘If anyone would come after Me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow Me’” (Matthew 16:24, ESV). The early believers lived this reality daily: “They left the presence of the council, rejoicing that they were counted worthy to suffer dishonor for the name” (Acts 5:41, ESV). But that sentence could not be written today. Our idea of suffering is inconvenience. Our idea of spiritual warfare is criticism. Yet, we wonder why the Church carries no weight. A crossless Christianity will always be hollow. It may grow. It may influence. But it will not convict, and it will not last. The cost has not disappeared; it has simply been shifted. It is no longer paid in blood but in silence, no longer in chains, but in powerlessness. The early Church had no branding, no buildings, no budgets. It had only a crucified Christ and a risen King. And that was enough. But we, having so much, seem to lack the one thing they could not live without: the Spirit Himself.
When the Platform Becomes the Pulpit
A man steps out, his image larger than life on the screen above. The lights meet his face before the Word meets his mouth. His words are warm, curated, approved. His theology grazes the edge of truth but rarely steps fully into it. His shoes cost more than some families tithe in a year. His ride, a Ferrari, a jet, parked behind the building, where the veil of opulence is never torn. I am not mocking, but there is no point pretending anymore, we have invented a new priesthood, not of broken men made holy, but of branded men made wealthy. They are called “influencers.” They are called “leaders.” And they are followed, adored, platformed, even worshipped. But rarely are they feared, and rarely, if we are honest, are they holy. The man now resembles the king Israel begged for: tall, impressive, commanding, and utterly disconnected from the altar. “They have not rejected you,” God told Samuel, “but they have rejected Me from being king over them” (1 Samuel 8:7, ESV). It is no different now. We want a man we can see. A man who will fight our battles, speak our sermons, carry our convictions, look the part, so that we can be comfortable, and God can remain at a distance. But the lampstand cannot be carried by celebrities, it was made to rest upon a priesthood that reveres the Lord.
Worship Without Consecration
It is possible to sing songs that sound biblical and remain completely untouched by God. It is possible to lift hands in a room that feels full, and still be entirely alone. The modern church worships in a way that moves the body but not the soul. A worship that generates sound but is not still before God. Worship that generates emotion but not repentance. In the Bible, people did not schedule intimacy, they lived it daily because their worship was not designed; it erupted. Their tears were not atmospheric; it was blood-born. “They devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers... and awe came upon every soul” (Acts 2:42–43, ESV). Where is the awe that came upon EVERY soul? I will tell you where...we sing now for a crowd, we write songs for the market, we perform worship and we call it an encounter. But the God who dwells in the fire does not come for performances. He comes for sacrifice and holiness, because the song He responds to is not in a certain musical key, it is in the key of sacrifice; “a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise” (Psalm 51:17, ESV).
The Spirit Will Not Compete
You see, where the flesh is enthroned, the Spirit departs because He will not clamor for position and will not remain where pride governs the room. We may continue the meeting and our metrics may hold, but God’s glory has departed. There is a frightening line in Ezekiel: “The glory of the LORD went up from the midst of the city and stood on the mountain that is on the east side of the city” (Ezekiel 11:23, ESV). It withdrew and no one noticed. Why? Because once the mechanics are built, once the structure is strong enough, we no longer need the Spirit, and perhaps that is the goal: An efficient church, one that does not require the fire to fall, and does not desire trembling. The early Church did not operate in efficiency, but rather in dependency. They waited, listened, wept, fasted, and fell to their knees, and in doing so, turned cities, and eventually empires, upside down. We cannot microwave what took them years of suffering, of prayer, of repentance, of power. We cannot mimic their outcomes without adopting their altars.
When God Is No Longer Feared
Everything unravels when God is no longer feared because holiness becomes optional and repentance rare. Sin is managed, not mortified, we exalt leaders to places they were never meant to stand, and the rest of us become consumers. The Church, once the dwelling place of the Most High, becomes a conference center with a cross. But here is the thing, reverence cannot be taught by volume and it is not provoked by instrumentation. Reverence is born when the weight of God rests on a people who have surrendered every other allegiance. The fear of the Lord is the soul’s recognition that it stands before One who is holy beyond comprehension. We teach that fear of the Lord is simply “respect,” because trembling makes us uncomfortable. But the early disciples lived a reality that can only exist when God is not treated as manageable, predictable, and non-intrusive. But God cannot be tamed, He is not curated, and He is not a brand. He is the God who speaks in fire, who walks in glory, who dwells in unapproachable light (1 Timothy 6:16).
Dear reader, we are not waiting on revival. Heaven is waiting on repentance. The path back is not through the fog machines. It is not found in better systems and it is not secured through greater reach. It is through the altar. The tearing. The trembling. “Those whom I love, I reprove and discipline, so be zealous and repent” (Revelation 3:19, ESV). The lampstand has not yet been removed, but it is flickering. The fire has not yet gone out, but it is cold in many sanctuaries. There is still time to return. But we must return all the way. Not just to sound doctrine, but to holy fear. Not just to right practices, but to burning hearts. Not just to powerful gatherings, but to consecrated lives. We cannot keep our idols and host His presence. We cannot entertain the crowd and expect the cloud. We cannot adore the famous and still see the fire. But if we cast down every high thing, every idol, every ambition, every counterfeit glory, He will manifest. And when He manifests, the Church will not need to market itself. It will be feared. It will be holy. It will be alive. And the world will know again that God is in the midst of her.
Posted in Devotions, Discipleship, Perspectives
Posted in Glory to God, honoring God, True Worship, Fear God
Posted in Glory to God, honoring God, True Worship, Fear God
Recent
Categories
Archive
2025
January
March
May
July
2024
February
March
April
May
October
November
No Comments