When Worship Became a Show: A Biblical Reckoning

Before I ever started typing words for this, God had already been preaching it to me in my own living room. Over the last five-ish months, our household shifted when we combined homes with my mother-in-law so we could help care for her as her body ages. Has it always been easy? No. Has it always been worth it? Absolutely, yes. Because tucked inside the inconvenience was an unexpected blessing: discipleship.

She is old-school Pentecostal. The kind of prayer warrior who doesn’t pencil worship into her schedule, she lives it. Even in a frail, aching body, she worships daily. If she isn’t piddling around the house, she’s praying. If she’s not praying, she’s reading her Bible. No stage. No microphone. No emotional build. Just reverence. Just consistency. Just a heart that knows exactly where its help comes from. Watching her live this out reminded me of what Scripture actually says worship looks like: “Pray without ceasing” (1 Thessalonians 5:17). Not when the band starts. Not when the lights dim. Without ceasing. And that kind of worship is humbling.

Because it has a way of exposing how much noise we’ve added in the name of “excellence.” No fog machines. No, fifteen people in coordinated, expensive outfits. No multi-guitars, dual pianos, and microphones competing for dominance like it’s a worship-team Hunger Games.

Just quiet faithfulness. Just presence. Just a heart posture that doesn’t need an audience.

Living with her has stripped worship down to its bones for me. Worship can be quiet. It can be ordinary. It can happen in a living room, a kitchen, or beside a recliner. It doesn’t require a platform; it requires surrender. And realizing how far the modern church has drifted from that kind of worship, how much it has reshaped it to attract spectators instead of forming worshipers, is both eye-opening and honestly heartbreaking. But it’s also what led me here. Because once you see it, you can’t unsee it!

Which brings me to this:

There was no announcement when it happened. No formal declaration. No emergency elders’ meeting titled “Attention: We’re About to Turn Worship into a Concert.” No vote taken. No warning issued.

One Sunday, the lights were just a little dimmer. The stage a little brighter. The music is a little louder. And suddenly, worship needed a vibe.

The language shifted, from reverence to atmosphere, from holiness to energy, from obedience to experience. And slowly, almost imperceptibly, the church traded worship for production. Not because anyone woke up rebellious, but because excellence quietly became entertainment, and entertainment doesn’t like to be questioned.

What was once sacred became stylized. What was once offered became observed. What was once an altar is becoming a stage with better branding.

Jesus said, “The hour cometh, and now is, when the true worshippers shall worship the Father in spirit and in truth: for the Father seeketh such to worship him” (John 4:23).

Notice what He didn’t say. He didn’t say God is seeking crowds. He didn’t say God is seeking concerts. He didn’t say God is seeking people who can hit high notes or curate a playlist that “sets the tone.” He said God is seeking worshipers.

Yet modern worship culture has trained the church to sit, watch, feel something, and clap politely at the end, as if worship were a performance and not participation. We’ve created consumers of a religious experience instead of people who actually bring themselves as a sacrifice.

And then we stand around scratching our heads, wondering where the downfall began.

Hint: it didn’t start in Washington. It didn’t start in Hollywood. It started when we stopped checking the altar.

Biblical worship was never casual. Not once. From Genesis forward, worship cost something. It was intentional, weighty, and governed by God’s holiness, not human preference.

Cain and Abel both brought offerings. Both showed up. Both did “something.” But God accepted one and rejected the other. Why? Because worship has never been about effort alone. It’s about obedience. God didn’t accept what was convenient. He accepted what was right.

Fast forward to the tabernacle. When God established worship, He didn’t say, “Just do whatever feels authentic to you.” He gave instructions, precise ones. Measurements. Materials. Movements. Garments. Timing. Posture.

“See that you make them according to the pattern shown you on the mountain” (Exodus 25:40). Why This Still Matters Today.

Exodus 25:40 exposes a modern error:

• Worship based on feelings

• Worship based on trends

• Worship based on convenience

• Worship based on culture

God never asked for original worship. He asked for obedient worship.

Worship wasn’t invented by man. God revealed it. That wasn’t legalism. That was reverence.

Now contrast that with today, where worship is endlessly rebranded, reimagined, and reinvented every six months like a church iPhone upgrade. The modern church prioritizes innovation while sidelining instruction, emotion while avoiding repentance, authenticity while dismissing holiness.

Scripture never presents worship as self-expression. It presents it as self-surrender.

We’ve also grown allergic to the phrase “fear of the Lord.” It doesn’t test well with focus groups. But Scripture never treats it as optional. Ask Nadab and Abihu.

They were priests. Leaders. Worship ministers. Not rookies. They offered “unauthorized fire” before the Lord, fire He did not command, and were consumed. God’s response was blunt: “I will be sanctified in those who come near Me” (Leviticus 10:3).

God does not lower His holiness because we’re uncomfortable.

He does not adjust His standards because culture shifted. And He does not excuse casual worship just because it sounds pretty.

The New Testament doesn’t soften this either. “Let us worship God acceptably with reverence and godly fear, for our God is a consuming fire” (Hebrews 12:28–29).

Grace does not cancel reverence. Access does not eliminate awe. Calling God “Abba” does not mean we treat Him like a buddy.

Yet modern worship culture often treats God like background music while the experience takes center stage.

Here’s the uncomfortable truth: nowhere in Scripture is worship equated with atmosphere.

No verse says dim lights usher in the presence of God. No passage that teaches repetition produces anointing. No command that says emotion equals intimacy.

God’s presence filled the tabernacle because He was obeyed, not because the band hit the bridge at the right moment. Isaiah said it plainly: “These people honor me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me” (Isaiah 29:13). Loud praise does not equal surrendered hearts. When worship becomes performance, hearts check out while bodies stay seated.

And perhaps the biggest lie modern worship has sold the church is this: that worship happens during a set. Scripture says worship is a lifestyle.

“Present your bodies as a living sacrifice” (Romans 12:1).

No music mentioned. No stage required. No fog machine needed. Just obedience.

When churches invest more time crafting a worship experience than discipling worshipful lives, they create congregations fluent in lyrics but foreign to surrender.

We sing about holiness while resisting correction. We sing about obedience while rejecting authority.

We sing about surrender while clutching control like it’s a life raft.

God is not moved by the sound of worship that contradicts the fruit of our lives.

Jesus dismantled performance-based worship when He told the Samaritan woman that worship would no longer be about location or method, but about spirit and truth. Spirit without truth becomes chaos. Truth without spirit becomes dead religion. Yet modern worship loves to shout “Spirit-led” while quietly abandoning truth, downplaying sin, avoiding repentance, and calling conviction “toxic.”

God is not seeking talented worshipers. He is seeking true ones. So how did worship drift this far? It didn’t happen accidentally. It happened strategically.

As churches adopted growth models borrowed straight from the entertainment industry, worship became a product. Jesus got branded. Experiences got marketed. Emotional responses got engineered. The platform grew. The altar shrank. Worship leaders became performers. Congregations became audiences. And success was measured by attendance instead of transformation.

Jesus already warned us about this when He flipped tables in the temple: “You have made it a den of thieves” (Matthew 21:13). Any time worship becomes transactional, I show up, you move me; God is dishonored.

Ezekiel called it thousands of years ago: “They hear your words but do not put them into practice… to them you are nothing more than one who sings love songs with a beautiful voice” (Ezekiel 33:31–32). Translation: great vocals, zero obedience.

When worship leaders are elevated for talent rather than tested for character, the church inherits shallow spirituality. James warned leaders would be judged more strictly, but modern worship culture often rewards visibility over virtue and platforms over prayer closets.

The result?

• Spectators in the pews.

• Passive Christianity.

• Faith reduced to feelings.

• Believers are easily offended, biblically malnourished, and spiritually unprepared for suffering.

God wasn’t impressed in Amos’ day either: “Take away from me the noise of your songs” (Amos 5:23). Emotion has replaced obedience. Tears have replaced transformation. Feeling close to God has replaced walking with Him.

And Samuel still stands in the corner of Scripture, reminding us: “To obey is better than sacrifice” (1 Samuel 15:22).

What did the church lose in the exchange?

• Reverence.

• Discernment.

• Sound doctrine.

• Backbone.

Paul warned Timothy that people would gather teachers who told them what they wanted to hear (2 Timothy 4:3–4). That era isn’t coming. It’s here, and it sells out every Sunday. But hope remains.

True worship didn’t disappear. It got drowned out. It still looks like humility. It still looks like repentance. It still looks like obedience when no one’s watching. God has never rejected sincere worship, no matter how simple. “A broken and contrite heart… You will not despise” (Psalm 51:17). The church doesn’t need better production. It needs deeper consecration. It doesn’t need brighter lights. It needs restored altars.

Jesus’ warning still echoes: “You have left your first love… repent and do the works you did at first” (Revelation 2:4–5).

The downfall of the church never starts with persecution from the outside. It always starts with compromise on the inside. And when worship becomes about us, our preferences, our comfort, our experience, God is no longer the center. And anything that replaces Him, no matter how beautiful, is an idol.

So maybe the question isn’t whether the church can still draw a crowd.

Maybe the real question is whether the church can still draw near.

Maybe the problem isn’t that worship doesn’t “hit” like it used to; maybe it’s that God isn’t obligated to show up for performances He never asked for.

We keep asking why heaven feels quiet while we crank up the volume, and God keeps asking when we plan to rebuild the altar instead of polishing the stage. Worship was never meant to impress people; it was meant to humble them. And until the church decides it would rather offend culture than grieve the Spirit, trade applause for obedience, and choose holiness over hype, we will keep mistaking noise for power and emotion for intimacy. Because at the end of the day, God is not moved by our production, He is moved by our surrender.