The Pulpit Has Been Hijacked

What Happens When Churches Stop Preaching Jesus

The greatest tragedy in the modern church is not merely corruption, scandal, or false teaching.

It is the slow disappearance of Jesus Christ from the center.

Christ is still mentioned. His name still appears in sermons, conferences, podcasts, branding, and social media captions. But in many churches, He is no longer the blazing center around which everything revolves.

The pulpit has become crowded with lesser obsessions:

politics,

celebrity personalities,

self-help psychology,

conspiratorial fear,

ministry branding,

prophetic sensationalism,

platform-building,

and endless fascination with worldly power.

Meanwhile, the simple apostolic proclamation —

“Jesus Christ and Him crucified” —

has been quietly pushed to the margins.

And whenever Christ ceases to remain central, something else inevitably takes His place.

Scripture is clear: bad roots eventually produce bad fruit. A church does not drift into manipulation, celebrity worship, division, scandal, spiritual abuse, and confusion by accident. These things grow from what is continually emphasized from the pulpit.

Whatever a church continually emphasizes becomes its practical gospel.

And much of what is preached today — especially throughout American Christianity — is no longer centered on the beauty, supremacy, and sufficiency of Jesus Christ.

Some pulpits have been hijacked by self-help Christianity: endless sermons about success, leadership, influence, personal destiny, and self-improvement, while reconciliation with God through the cross is barely proclaimed at all.

Others have been consumed by politics and culture wars. Many Christians today seem more emotionally energized by elections, ideological battles, national decline, and partisan outrage than by the risen Christ Himself. The church increasingly speaks as though the hope of the world rests in political victory rather than in the gospel, even though Paul plainly declared that the power of God is found not in political systems, but in the gospel of Jesus Christ.

Other pulpits have been overtaken by celebrity culture. Ministries are built around personalities, platforms, branding, and influence. Pastors are treated like spiritual celebrities rather than servants pointing people to Christ. But Paul directly confronted this spirit in Corinth when believers began dividing themselves around famous leaders:

“Was Paul crucified for you?”

— 1 Corinthians 1:13

The apostles never built the church around themselves. They preached Christ.

Still others have become consumed with prophetic sensationalism, conspiracy theories, fear-driven eschatology, and an unhealthy fascination with darkness. Entire ministries now sustain themselves by keeping believers in a constant state of alarm, endlessly fixated on hidden corruption, end-time speculation, and unfolding catastrophe.

Many Christians today seem more captivated by the drama of darkness than by the glory of the Lamb of God.

The tragedy is not merely that Jesus is denied.

The tragedy is that He is no longer central.

Paul’s language in 1 Corinthians is far more radical than many modern readers realize. When Paul speaks about “foolishness,” he is not speaking casually. He is launching a direct assault against an entire system of human pride, status, performance, and self-exaltation.

The Greek words Paul repeatedly uses are:

* *mōros* — fool, absurd, dull

* *mōria* — foolishness, folly, absurdity

This is where we get the English word *moron*.

Paul intentionally weaponizes these terms throughout 1 Corinthians 1–4 because Corinth was obsessed with the very things much of modern Christianity is obsessed with now:

eloquence,

rhetorical performance,

intellectual prestige,

public influence,

status,

and celebrity-like teachers.

In Greek culture, wisdom (*sophia*) was social currency.

A powerful speaker was admired almost like a cultural icon.

Influence was power.

Prestige mattered.

And into that world Paul preached something utterly offensive:

a crucified Messiah.

To the Roman world, crucifixion was humiliation. It was degradation. It was intentionally shameful. Crucifixion was reserved for slaves, rebels, and the lowest classes of society. Respectable people did not even discuss it openly.

And yet Paul stood in the middle of this prestige-obsessed culture proclaiming:

“We preach Christ crucified, a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles.”

— 1 Corinthians 1:23

This is the great reversal at the center of Christianity.

Human systems admire:

strength,

image,

influence,

charisma,

status,

spectacle,

control,

and superiority.

But God revealed His wisdom through weakness, humility, suffering, surrender, and apparent defeat.

The cross humiliates human pride.

It destroys boasting.

It dismantles ego.

And this is precisely why the modern church keeps drifting away from it.

Because the flesh will always prefer spectacle over surrender.

Many churches today still mention Jesus, but they increasingly build themselves around the very systems Paul was confronting in Corinth:

celebrity personalities,

branding,

platform-building,

emotional performance,

political tribalism,

ministry empires,

prophetic sensationalism,

and influence culture.

The church has rebuilt worldly systems of status using Christian language.

And this is why scandals so often emerge from ministries built around charisma rather than Christ.

A ministry rooted in personality will eventually protect the personality at all costs.

A ministry rooted in image will eventually manipulate perception.

A ministry rooted in influence will eventually compromise truth to preserve power.

A ministry rooted in platform-building will eventually treat people as consumers rather than sheep.

Sexual scandal, spiritual abuse, authoritarian leadership, manipulation, and narcissism do not emerge in a vacuum. They are often the fruit of ministries that spent decades building around personalities instead of the crucified Christ.

Paul intentionally rejected this entire framework:

“For I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ and Him crucified.”

— 1 Corinthians 2:2

This was not anti-intellectualism. Paul himself was extraordinarily educated. He was not attacking wisdom itself. He was attacking wisdom detached from surrender to God:

ego-centered spirituality,

performative religion,

pride masquerading as enlightenment,

and systems of power incapable of recognizing God unless He arrives clothed in prestige.

And the tragedy is that the Corinthian spirit did not remain outside the church. It entered the church itself.

Believers began dividing themselves around famous leaders:

“I follow Paul.”

“I follow Apollos.”

“I follow Cephas.”

The church was turning Christianity into another status system.

Paul dismantled it immediately:

“Was Paul crucified for you?”

— 1 Corinthians 1:13

That question still confronts the modern church.

Was your favorite celebrity pastor crucified for you?

Was your political movement crucified for you?

Was your denomination crucified for you?

Was your ministry brand crucified for you?

Was your favorite online personality crucified for you?

No.

Only Christ.

The apostles did not conquer the world through spectacle, branding, political dominance, or celebrity influence.

They preached Christ.

They preached a crucified Messiah to a world obsessed with power, status, rhetoric, image, and human glory.

And though the message appeared foolish, it carried the very power of God.

The modern church desperately wants power, influence, relevance, and cultural victory. But many have forgotten that the power was never in human charisma to begin with.

It was always in the gospel.

It was always in the Lamb.

This is why the church does not ultimately need better marketing, trendier strategies, stronger personalities, or more emotionally stimulating religious experiences.

It needs to behold Christ again.

To return to the scandalous simplicity of the cross.

To once again become captivated by the unsearchable riches of Jesus Christ instead of the endless distractions competing for the pulpit.

Because whatever continually captures the fascination of the church will eventually become its gospel.

And only one gospel has the power to save, transform, humble, heal, and reconcile fallen humanity:

Jesus Christ and Him crucified.