A recent Pew study reveals a stark truth: the decline of Christianity in America has ceased, yet that should not be interpreted as a reason for celebration. Make no mistake; the damage has been done. Entire generations are growing up devoid of meaningful spiritual formation, lacking a fundamental understanding of what it means to recognize the sacred.
The misconception that churches are losing followers because they haven’t kept pace with modernity is dangerously misleading. The reality is far more troubling: they have modernized — and in doing so, they have betrayed their core tenets.
If the apostles were to step into many of today’s churches, they wouldn’t offer praise or encouragement. They would flip tables in righteous anger.
For years, Western Christianity’s foundational institutions have traded clarity for relevance, and truth for mere tone. Sermons have shifted from unyielding truths to tepid platitudes aimed at keeping the collection plates filled. The notion of “sin” has been quietly erased, replaced by softer terms like “journeys” and “growth.” The church that once stood strong against tyranny has diluted its message, masquerading as a trendy wellness center.
This is not outreach; it is capitulation.
### Internal Sabotage
In Germany, Bishop Gregor Maria Hanke recently resigned, not in shame but out of sheer exhaustion, overwhelmed by a church preoccupied with synodal committees and gender equity audits rather than saving souls. Across the English Channel, Rowan Williams, the former Archbishop of Canterbury, has devolved into a figure who seems to apologize for faith itself. His vision of God has become a nebulous abstraction rather than the fierce Lion of Judah; he now claims camaraderie with figures from the New Atheist movement in the pages of the New York Times. Under such leadership, Anglicanism has traded its convictions for comfort, transforming majestic cathedrals into mere relics, watching belief crumble as theological reticence permeates the institution.
One is Catholic; the other, Protestant. Different branches, but the same rot: a church more inclined to appease than to confront the culture.
Let’s be clear: this is internal sabotage — and it is rampant.
The crisis facing Christianity is not secularism; it is cowardice. It’s absurd to think that culture has defeated the church. What has happened is much worse — the church has surrendered. A church fearful of offending cannot save souls, inspire loyalty, or proclaim truth.
It fades quietly, one compromise at a time. First, it sidesteps marriage, then ignores sin, and ultimately capitulates on the uniqueness of Christ. When the resurrection is inevitably brushed aside, the faithful are left with a message that even the preacher struggles to believe.
### Exhibit A
We witness this collapse most glaringly in the rise of “cafeteria Catholicism”: a faith without commitment, where adherents conveniently pick and choose what to embrace and what to reject. They revel in rituals — the incense, the music, the ashes — but reject the church’s authority, molding morals to fit the latest TikTok trend. They may bow their heads in church, yet cheer for abortion at the polls. They genuflect at the altar only to kneel again at the altar of inclusion.
To them, Jesus is just a nice person, no different than Buddha. And who are we to pass judgment?
This is not faith; this is branding. It burdens the soul with no demands and yields an empty promise. These individuals seek the comfort of religion while evading the call to obedience. They desire a God who concurs with their choices, not one who transforms them. They want a deity who whispers encouragement rather than declaring absolute truths.
A gospel that never challenges is a gospel that fails to change hearts. A church that never asserts moral boundaries is a church rendered irrelevant.
For years, church leaders have suggested that hell is empty, celibacy is optional, and the Eucharist is merely symbolic if that makes it digestible.
So it is no wonder millions now approach Christianity like a buffet: a dash of resurrection, hold the repentance.
### No Power in Conformity
The early Christians faced torture and death not for fitting in, but because they steadfastly refused to conform to a fallen culture. They stood for absolutes, proclaiming Christ as King while the world begged for silence, and they paid for that conviction with their lives.
That courage gave them power — the very power that intimidated Rome.
They had no desire to seek approval; they sought faithfulness. They intensified their message instead of softening it to court followers. The church proliferated across the globe not in spite of offense, but because of it. The gospel was scandalous then, and it must be scandalous now.
Today’s church tiptoes through culture as though navigating a minefield. It engages in interfaith discussions with those hostile to its mission and lobbies for climate policies while souls are crying out for salvation. We witness Catholic bishops participating in Pride parades while being absent from pro-life vigils. Meanwhile, Protestant pastors host drag events in sanctuaries while their congregations dwindle. These leaders prioritize the feelings of activists over defending God’s Word. They address climate change, systemic privilege, and even plastic straws.
What they avoid is the discourse on sin, judgment, and repentance. Both Catholics and Protestants must confront the harsh reality: this is not merely a doctrinal debate. It is a culture that desires obliteration of the church, while too many insiders have colluded with the enemy.
### A Purified Church
If the apostles walked into today’s churches, they wouldn’t offer affirmations; they would flip tables.
God does not require marketers. He demands martyrs. He requires disciples, not spiritual consultants. The future of Christianity will not be sculpted by leaders groveling to the New York Times or pastors tweeting about sustainable goals. It will thrive through those who kneel in silent reverence and proclaim their faith boldly, irrespective of worldly scorn.
Perhaps that is the true message: the church is not dying; it is being refined.
Let the saboteurs resign. Let the cowards step aside. Let the cafeteria close. What remains may be fewer in number, but it will be infinitely stronger. Not performative. Not progressive. But holy. At long last, holy.
