We live in a consumer-saturated age.
Never before has our culture operated at such a high speed.
Everything is on demand.
We expect immediate results.
Can’t get it today? It will be on your doorstep by tomorrow at 8AM.
We rarely have to wait on anything anymore, and there’s a merry-go-round of seemingly never-ending options. There is always something to watch, to consume, to buy, to long for.
And yet, life with God operates differently than our fast-paced expectations.
The more we follow Jesus, the more we learn that much of this faith life is waiting. Jesus offered a slower, more rest-filled pace to our daily lives. He didn’t offer upgrades or on-demand deals. There was rarely immediacy or even efficiency woven into the fabric of his days. Instead, he walked. He waited. He healed. He lived peacefully among others. And he set these same standards for us.
So why does it feel like the church and consumerism have become tangled together like a web of Christmas lights stowed away in the attic?
Instead of being a part of a church to serve, to love, to experience the vibrant Word of God, we often look at churches and ask, “How can this church fit my needs? What’s in it for me?”
CHURCH HOPPING IN THE FAST LANE
This isn’t all that surprising, especially since much of modern life is catered to us. Through algorithms and curated social media feeds, we’ve adjusted to a culture that accommodates our preferences, comfort, and convenience.
Christian Writer Alan Hirsch explains, “We have become spiritual consumers... shopping for a church the way we shop for jeans.
Writer Travis Nicholson points out that church hopping and church shopping are two different things. Church shopping is prayerfully visiting different churches in the hopes of finding a church to call home for the long haul. But church hopping is a way of avoiding commitment, leaving when something offends or hurts you, or only staying when something fits your standards.
In my early 20s, as a new believer, I learned “church hopping” was a very real thing, especially in areas where there was a variety of churches to choose from. I would find myself in circles of people who gossiped about churches the way they talked about past relationships. When they spotted a flaw, they left. When something rubbed them the wrong way, they ghosted. We never talked about roots or what it would look like to stay in our discomfort. Looking back on those conversations, a lot of the people who were once church hopping have left the church entirely.
While there is real church hurt, I think it is easy to fall into the trap of leaving the moment something doesn’t serve us. When we leave so quickly, we miss the marrow — the full experience of Christ in the body of believers. We miss out on life with one another and on what Eugene Peterson identified as the “long obedience in the same direction.”
SPECTATOR SPIRITUALITY
Maybe even more dangerous than hopping from church to church is how we can settle into a church but keep our complaints locked and loaded.
If we aren’t careful, a critical mindset can take hold of us quite quickly. We start to pin down what’s wrong rather than illuminating what’s right or what would benefit from more care, curiosity, and compassion. We stop being active participants, and we take our seats on the sidelines, speculating on what should change before the church gets our full approval.
Years ago, I was part of a young adult group at the church I attended, and I remember feeling concerned that there wasn’t enough depth. I worried: How would these students stay rooted when life got hard? Who would teach them how to really read the Bible?
For a while, I let my cynicism take over.
I distinctly remember, in one of my “lament” sessions with God, he nudged me with a question: Why not you? If you’re so concerned with depth, be part of the solution rather than the problem.
That question snapped me out of my spiral pretty quickly. From that day forward, I planted myself at the same table in the team space, every Sunday, where the students would hang out. I would read my Bible and various books about faith. And one by one, students would come up and strike up a conversation. They’d borrow a book. They’d read beside me. And I began to realize that choosing to see and participate in the solution, rather than outlining the problem again and again, led to more growth— for myself and for those around me.
I learned an essential lesson during that season: God is not surprised by our frustrations. And if we are willing, he will use our frustrations to form us. He will shift our perspectives as we haul our complaints out into the light and dare to say: God, change my heart. Show me what I am missing.
If there is something frustrating you about the church you’re in, dig deeper. Look closer. Don’t just complain from the sidelines. Bring that frustration to God. Dare to circle it in prayer. There might be something waiting for you beneath the surface.
We’re often too quick to vent or decide that the frustration is meant to distance us from the church body, but what if it is an invitation to go a level deeper in our faith, in our involvement, in our tethering with God?
BRANDS & THE BODY
In 2025, when curation is at an all-time high and “vibes” are everything, I think we must do the hard work of recognizing that the church isn’t a brand, it’s a body.
A body of imperfect people.
A body of sometimes flawed systems.
A body of those of us just trying our best.
I have to remind myself often that the language of Paul’s letters wasn’t written to the individual — it was catered to the body. We may have reframed it in our minds to fit our own journeys of self-discovery, but the Bible is full of communal language — a chorus of“Us,” “We,” and “One another.” A page-by-page reminder that we were meant for one another. We were made for one another.
People — the love and service of one another — will always be at the heart of God’s plans for our lives. If we miss one another, I fear we miss the whole point.
From the moment Jesus walked the earth, the mission of the church has never changed. It’s the Great Commission:
To go and make disciples of all nations.
To live and illuminate the world with love.
To love God with all our hearts and minds.
To have greater love for our neighbors than we ever thought we were capable of.
To live a life guided and transformed by the Holy Spirit.
How is that commission lived out? Through deeper roots. Through imperfect people. Through staying in times of frustration or discomfort. Through loving harder. Through choosing one another —the people sitting beside us in the seats —over a curated playlist or a perfectly executed sermon series.
The choice to stay, grow, and belong is a daily decision. And that choice often only comes when we’re ready to live at a slower, more committed pace than the world is used to.
