The Silent Sanctuary

Why Has the Modern Church Gone Quiet on the World’s Wounds?

I know many of you are waiting for part 4 of my AWC series. I promise it is coming. I took a short break over Christmas, and I have not quite finished it yet. Do not worry. I will deliver it soon. In the meantime, something has been burning in my heart, and I needed to write this instead.

This post is for my fellow believers. It is meant to help us look inward. Why are our churches not more engaged with the societal problems that plague us? Jesus is the antidote to every single one of the world’s problems. Every single one. Yet somehow we expect lost and hurting people to walk through our doors, sit in comfortable chairs under bright lights and loud music, watch big screens, and encounter Jesus that way. All without us first meeting their most basic human needs. Fellowship for the lonely elderly. Food for the hungry. Housing for the homeless. Friendship for the fatherless. The list goes on.

Every issue plaguing society has the same answer: Jesus. But people will not care how much we know until they know how much we care.

Some may read this and feel it is a condemnation of the church. Please do not take it that way. I love the church. I have given my life to it. This is not an attack. This is a sincere, puzzling question from someone who has lived inside these walls for decades. Has the church lost its saltiness? If so, can it get that saltiness back? How did we get here? And how do we start making the turn?

Trust me, I have been part of the problem more than most. For years, my career revolved around church technology. I have sold LED walls, lighting rigs, haze machines, video switchers, sound systems. Everything from million-dollar setups for large campuses to modest systems for small congregations. My mission was always the same: this technology will help us reach more people. But looking back honestly, did it? Or did it mostly help us put on a better weekly program? For whom, exactly? The already convinced? The comfortable?

Many churches across the country have slogans like “People over program.” We print it on shirts and put it on websites. Yet do we actually live it? Do our budgets reflect it? Do our schedules reflect it? Do our priorities reflect it?

From Seeker-Sensitive to Societally Passive

Let us rewind a bit. In the early 2000s, the seeker-sensitive movement swept through evangelical circles. The idea was noble: make church accessible, remove unnecessary barriers, focus on relevance to draw in the unchurched. And it worked in many ways. Megachurches grew. Attendance swelled. People came.

But fast-forward to the 2020s, and something else has emerged: a church that is not just sensitive, but passive. Passive on the cultural and moral issues that demand a clear biblical voice. The sanctity of life. The breakdown of the family. The erosion of truth in our society.

I have spent the last twenty years in ministry, from youth groups to pastoral roles, immersed in the rhythms of church life. I have seen the dedication, the passion, the genuine hearts seeking to follow Christ. But something shifted for me when COVID hit. As the world locked down, churches pivoted to online streams and virtual gatherings. Necessary adaptations, yes. Yet in that forced pause, my eyes opened wider.

Why do we pour so much energy into perfecting our Sunday productions? The screens, the sound systems, the lights, the haze. Facilities renovated every few years. Staffs expanded to orchestrate the weekly event. Outside those walls, the silence can feel deafening.

Drive through nearly any city in America, including here in Washington state where I live, and you will see it: beautiful campuses with state-of-the-art technology, comfortable seating, programs designed to attract crowds. It is impressive. But I keep wondering: Is this what Jesus meant when He commanded, “Go into all the world and make disciples” (Matthew 28:19)?

That word “go” is active. Urgent. Outward. Yet too often we have interpreted it as “gather.” We build attractive environments and hope people show up, rather than us going to where they are.

Who Will Meet the Needs If We Will Not?

Who is to feed the sick? Who is to help the elderly? Who is to care for the orphan and the widow in their distress, as James 1:27 defines pure and undefiled religion? Jesus did not wait for people to come to the synagogue. He went to them. He touched lepers. He fed crowds. He welcomed children. He dined with outcasts.

Today governments strain under the weight of societal needs. Budgets are stretched thin at every level: schools, cities, counties, states, federal. We watch programs expand while taxes rise and deficits grow. Why? Governments were never designed to be the primary source of compassion and community care. They are systems of policy and bureaucracy. They can operate at scale, but they often lack the personal, relational touch that truly transforms lives.

History tells a different story. In the 1800s and early 1900s, churches were the backbone of community welfare. Hospitals, orphanages, soup kitchens, schools, elder care. These often began as church initiatives. Believers saw needs and met them with hands-on, faith-driven action. Somewhere along the way we stepped back. We outsourced mercy to the state. Now we expect government to fill every gap, and we act surprised when it struggles to do so.

Why have we accepted this shift? Why do we treat government as the default provider instead of stepping forward ourselves as the body of Christ? Let us not rely on government to be our god. It cannot meet the deepest needs of the human heart.

The Hunger of a New Generation

Consider Generation Z. They are hungry for Jesus. Desperately so. But they want the real deal. They are tired of polished production that feels manufactured. Many are flocking to more historical, liturgical expressions of faith because the message there feels raw and authentic to them. We took seeker-sensitive and stretched it so far that we watered down the gospel until it lost its distinctive flavor.

Church, it is time to become salty again. Jesus said we are the salt of the earth. Salt preserves. Salt flavors. Salt stings when it hits an open wound. If salt loses its saltiness, it is good for nothing except to be thrown out and trampled underfoot (Matthew 5:13).

It is time to start calling evil what it is: evil. No sugar-coating. No fear of offense. Truth spoken in love, yes. But truth nonetheless. The world does not need another echo chamber or entertainment venue. It needs the church to be the church.

Society Cannot Afford Our Silence Anymore

Our society simply cannot afford for the church to sit out on these issues any longer. We cannot tolerate evil or compromise with it. We must stare it straight in the face, command it to move, and get to work. Jesus promised that we would do even greater things than He did (John 14:12). Where is that church in the United States today? We see glimpses of it in third-world countries, where believers face persecution for their faith yet remain boldly active in their communities. They heal the sick, cast out demons, feed the poor, all while risking their lives. Their faith is alive, vibrant, uncompromised.

But here in America, the church has too often become absorbed in crafting a good message and spending the workweek preparing for yet another Sunday service. Why does church have to look this way? I do not know the full answer, but I know this: we cannot forsake the gathering of believers, as Hebrews 10:25 instructs. That command was never meant to water down our action or lull us into spiritual sleep. I do not believe so. Instead, it should fuel us for the mission ahead.

Look at the early church in Acts. They did life together every single day. Not just Sundays. They shared meals, prayed, taught, served the needy, all in daily fellowship (Acts 2:42-47). Miracles happened. People were added to their number daily. How can we return to that kind of vibrant community? How can we start answering the call of our own neighborhoods, cities, and nation, while stopping the abdication of our Christian responsibility to government?

It starts with recognizing that government, for all its roles, cannot replace the church’s unique calling. We have abdicated too much: education, welfare, moral guidance. As a result, society suffers from broken families, rampant addiction, spiritual emptiness. The church must reclaim its role as the primary agent of transformation. Not through politics alone, though we should vote our values, but through presence. Through action. Through demonstrating the kingdom of God in tangible ways.

How Do We Turn?

So how do we begin making the turn?

First, we look inward. We pray. We repent where we have prioritized program over people, comfort over commission, attraction over transformation.

Second, we re-examine our budgets and calendars. What percentage of our resources goes toward the Sunday event versus going out to serve the hurting in our communities week after week? Shift funds to outreach, mercy ministries, community partnerships.

Third, we equip and release our people. Church is not a weekly show we attend. It is a family on mission. Small groups can become service teams. Men can mentor fatherless boys. Women can adopt widows as spiritual mothers. Congregations can partner with crisis pregnancy centers, food banks, homeless shelters. Not just with money, but with time and presence.

Fourth, we embrace daily fellowship like the Acts church. Encourage house-to-house gatherings, midweek service projects, prayer walks in neighborhoods. Make discipleship a lifestyle, not a program.

Fifth, we confront evil boldly. Speak truth to cultural lies about marriage, life, identity. But do it with compassion, meeting needs as we proclaim the gospel. Greater works await if we step out in faith.

Imagine if every church in America adopted one city block, one apartment complex, one school. Imagine if we became known again as the people who show up when life falls apart. Miracles in our streets. Salvations in our communities. Society transformed not by government edict, but by the power of Christ through His people.

Governments could then focus on infrastructure and justice systems while we reclaim the relational, restorative work we are uniquely called and equipped to do.

A Plea from One Who Loves the Church

This may surprise some of my readers. Some of my critics on the left might even call me a Christian nationalist or zealot for writing this. That is fine. Labels do not concern me. What concerns me most is seeing the bride of Christ step boldly into the glorious purpose for which He redeemed her at such great cost.

I want so much more for God’s people. I want us to answer the call placed on us in the communities we serve. I want the world to look at the church and say, “Those people have the answer we have been searching for.”

Jesus is still the antidote to every problem. But the world will not know it unless we go. Not stay. Not sit. Go.

Church, let us talk. Why the silence? Why the inward focus? Is this the fullness of what Jesus called us to? I do not have every answer. I have questions from a heart that aches to see the church shine as light and salt once more.

What do you think? Have you seen glimpses of churches getting this right? What is holding us back? Drop a comment below. Share your stories. Let us encourage one another toward the mission we were always meant for.

And yes, part 4 of the AWC series is still coming. Thank you for your patience.