Megachurch

I spend a lot of time looking through my windshield. To pass the time, I listen to a lot of podcasts (and I mean a lot!). I came across one recently entitled “The Roys Report” that peeked my interest, so I gave it a listen.

I came across The Roys Report months ago when I was following news of the fall of several prominent megachurch pastors. I won’t say I’ve been a regular listener of the podcast, but if one pops up that sounds interesting, I give it a listen.

This particular podcast was an interview with the author of a new book entitled “Gods of the Smoke Machine: Power, Pain and the Rise of Christian Nationalism in the Megachurch” by Scott Latta. I found the conversation compelling so I ordered the book. What follows are my reflections after having finished reading it (I suppose that makes it a book review).

Okay, so the book was a page-turner for me. It is well-written. Latta’s writing style is quite engaging and easy to read, and I would recommend this book to pastors and church leaders who are on the front-lines of ministry in contemporary culture.

Hard Conversations

There are few topics more difficult for Christians to talk about than the failures of the church. I love the church. I’ve been formed by it, baptized in it, comforted and corrected by it. Yet, my own history and experience have taught me that love does not require blindness. Sometimes love requires truth-telling.

Latta attempts to shine light on a truth that many folks find difficult to talk about. Nevertheless, it is a conversation worth having. Reading the book caused me to ask the question: Are we worshiping God, or have we learned to worship the machinery built in His name?

Let me confess that Latta and I are not of the same “tribe.” He is one who is in the process of “deconstructing” his faith (or has completed the process–I’m not really sure after reading the book).

This is not a review of the somewhat new and novel idea of “deconstruction” of one’s faith, but if you’re unfamiliar with the term, you can Goggle it to learn more. Simply put, it is exactly what comes to your mind when you hear the phrase “deconstructing one’s faith.”

Though not of the same tribe, I found some value in reading the work. It does us good to get out of our echo chambers to hear other voices. They cause us to think and possibly find some common ground upon which we might build a relationship.

When Growth Becomes the Measure of Faithfulness

Latta reflects on the rise of the modern megachurch and the ways large congregations have learned to thrive even as church participation in America declines. He points out in the introduction that overall church attendance has fallen by about half over the past 25 years. Yet, while overall attendance has fallen, attendance in the megachurch (weekly attendance greater than 2,000 people) has increased by 10% between 2015 and 2020.

Yes, as Latta points out, the pie is getting smaller, but the megachurch’s piece has gotten larger.

Growth itself, of course, is not the problem. Scripture celebrates growth when it flows from faithfulness. But Latta raises a necessary concern: when numerical success, branding, and influence become the primary measures of God’s blessing, something essential is at risk of being lost.

From a pastoral perspective, this is not simply a critique of church size or style. It is a call to remember that the church is not a product to be managed but a body to be shepherded. Efficiency and excellence can serve the gospel—but they can never replace presence, humility, or accountability.

Listening to the Wounded

Perhaps the most sobering parts of the book are the voices of those who were hurt within church systems that should have protected them. Latta shares stories of people who experienced spiritual manipulation, silencing, and abuse, and who found that institutional loyalty often outweighed compassion, truth and accountability.

These stories deserve our prayerful attention. My pastor’s heart reminds me that the credibility of the church is not measured by attendance numbers or production quality, but by how we treat “the least of these”—especially when listening is inconvenient or costly. Repentance, not reputation management, is the way of Christ.

Of course, my more pragmatic (or cynical) self wants to say, “There are two sides to every story.” We only hear one side of the story in Latta’s book. In fairness, according to Latta, churches and pastors were given opportunity to comment, but most did not respond.

Faith, Power, and Allegiance

Latta also explores the uneasy relationship between some megachurches and political power, particularly the blending of Christian language with nationalist ideology. Viewed through my pastoral lens, my concern is not about political disagreement, but about ultimate allegiance. When loyalty to leaders, movements, or ideologies begins to eclipse allegiance to Christ, the church’s witness becomes distorted.

The church has always lived in tension with worldly power. The danger comes when that tension disappears—when the cross is replaced by the quest for influence, and when winning matters more than loving.

A Call to Self-Examination, Not Cynicism

While Gods of the Smoke Machine is clearly critical of the state of the American megachurch, I think Latta painted with a very broad brush. The focus of the book really is upon a very few megachurches and their pastors. He says very little about the majority of churches (there are approximately 1,800 megachurches in the U.S.) and pastors who are faithful to the Gospel and do their best to love one another.

Not to despair, though. The book became for me an invitation to self-examination. Not every church is a megachurch, and not every leader is compromised—but every Christian community must regularly ask hard questions about power, transparency, faithfulness and yes, accountability (there’s that word again).

This book challenges pastors, elders, and congregants alike to consider whether our structures reflect the character of Christ or simply the efficiencies of modern institutions. It urges us to remember that the Spirit of God is not manufactured by lighting cues, smoke machines or emotional crescendos, but is present where there is truth, repentance, and love (oh, and accountability).

Reading with Hope

Ultimately, Gods of the Smoke Machine is a book best read slowly, prayerfully, and with humility. It may stir grief, anger, or recognition. But it can also stir hope—hope that the church can still choose a better way, and that reform is possible when the people of God are willing to listen, repent, and return to the simplicity of the gospel.

For pastors, church leaders, and thoughtful Christians, this book offers an opportunity not to abandon the church, but to love it more faithfully—by seeking the health of Christ’s body rather than the success of its machinery.

There is a bit of the prophetic in the work. Unfortunately (or fortunately?), that prophetic word is coming from one outside the church (well, one who left the church). I don’t know if that makes him an outside insider or an inside outsider. Either way, it will do we leaders well to listen to that prophetic word and take it seriously.

Until next time, keep looking up…

Bad news breaks hard, and unfortunately, bad news has been breaking hard for the Church for a few weeks now.

A Run of Bad News

First, return to late April. News broke of the suicide of a pastor’s wife in South Carolina (click here for a deeper dive into the story). Pastor John Paul Miller’s wife, Mica, allegedly took her own life after filing for divorce from her husband. The story reveals a tumultuous and allegedly abusive relationship between the pastor and his former wife. Newsnation has a series of reports on the entire ordeal (it can be found here). No matter the issues involved, it is a sad, sad story.

Second, on June 13th, it was announced that Dallas area megachurch pastor Tony Evans was stepping down from the church he helped found nearly 50 years ago over an “unnamed” sin. Dr. Evans had also built a flourishing media ministry through his Urban Alternative ministries. Dr. Evans was/is quite the celebrity among evangelical Christians, and the loss of his pulpit and ministry influence is a sad, sad story.

Third, news broke on June 18th, that Rev. Robert Morris, founding/senior pastor of Gateway Church in Southlake, TX, had resigned his position as a result of accusations of sexual abuse and assault reaching back over 30 years ago. Rev. Morris had, in his own right, established a growing media ministry and exercised a strong influence among evangelicals just as Dr. Evans. Again, for his congregation and for the Church, his is a sad, sad story.

Finally, on a note not related to the Church/church, but closer to me personally (and reflective of the destructive nature of sin), I saw reports that a former co-worker had been arrested for crimes of a sexual nature. The accused and I worked together at the Jackson Parish Sheriff’s Office in another lifetime. I haven’t seen or talked to him in years, but the breaking news brought an overwhelming sadness to my heart because it, too, is a sad, sad story.

Disclaimer: All persons are presumed innocent until proven guilty! Although, both Evans and Morris resigned as a result of the allegations, so there is that. Rev. Miller (who I think has been relieved of his duties as pastor) hasn’t yet been charged with any crime, and my friend is yet to be tried for his alleged crime.

King David’s Lament

In each of these instances, I am reminded of David’s song in 2 Samuel 1:

¹⁹“A gazelle lies slain on your heights, Israel.
How the mighty have fallen! (2 Samuel 1: 19 NIV)

David, ever the song writer, expressed his deep emotion regarding the death of his adversary (King Saul) and his friend (Jonathon). Though many have since uttered the phrase in celebration over the fall of the famous or influential, David sang it as a deep lament.

I won’t rehash David’s relationship with King Saul or Saul’s son, Jonathon, here. You can read 1 Samuel and 2 Samuel:1 for the full story. Let’s just say David’s relationship with King Saul was challenging. King Saul sought numerous times to have David killed and David had numerous occasions to kill Saul and assume the throne he knew to be rightly his. Yet, David chose to wait for God’s timing and he never failed to view Saul as the Lord’s anointed.

Upon hearing the news of both Saul and Jonathon’s demise, David’s heart broke because to him, it was not a time to celebrate, but it was, in fact, a sad, sad story.

Unfortunately, there are many outside the church who are celebrating the fall of the mighty. It gives them an opportunity to point to Christians and say, “Look, just a bunch of hypocrites!” Unfortunately again, they would be correct. We are, for the most part, a bunch of hypocrites. That’s why we need grace. That’s why we need Jesus. That’s central to the message of our faith. Too many outside the faith don’t understand that fact, and that, too, is a sad, sad story.

There are also some within the church who celebrate fall of the mighty. The celebration comes from those mostly outside the evangelical community who have an opportunity to say, “See, I told you so! Just a bunch of hypocrites.” And, they would be correct. It affords them a chance to say, “At least I’m not like that publican, over there” (Luke 18:9-14). Nothing like attacking our own. Why do we do that?

Lessons to Learn

I’m going to choose to learn some lessons from David in these particular situations.

Reserve Judgment

First, I’m going to reserve judgment. I’m not going to judge either the person or circumstance. David consistently withheld his own personal judgment in regard to his relationship with King Saul. He knew that God would judge Saul and his circumstances in His own time. David trusted God enough to wait. If David can do that, so can I.

I wait to offer any judgment because I remember what Jesus said in the Sermon on the Mount:

7 “Do not judge, or you too will be judged. ²For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the measure you use, it will be measured to you.

³“Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? ⁴How can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when all the time there is a plank in your own eye? ⁵You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye. (Matthew 7: 1-5 NIV)

There’s just something about that whole log and speck thing that slows me down when it comes to rendering judgment in any way. I’ve come to believe that we all have logs in our eyes…everyone of us have LOGS in our eyes. The log in your eye only looks like a speck to me because of the log in my eye, and the speck you see in my eye only looks like a speck because you can’t see around the log in your own eye.

The truth is I don’t want to be too hard on others because it means others will be too hard on me. We Christians believe in this little thing called forgiveness, and we work toward reconciliation and restoration, or at least we’re supposed to. Forgiveness is hard (especially in some of the circumstances above), but it is nonetheless demanded by those of us who follow Jesus.

Yes, accountability is necessary, and accountability will work itself out through the legal process (as it should). There are always consequences to sin. I suspect that each person whose name is in the news recently is experiencing that accountability first-hand. I’m willing to let that process play out without rendering judgment against the persons. I trust God enough to do that.

Respect the Person

Second, I’m going to respect the person. Honestly, I don’t know Pastor Miller. Never heard of him before the news of his wife’s suicide made national headlines. I feel reasonably certain there are folks who are standing with him during this tragic time, and that he has had a positive impact on lives under his care as a pastor (maybe not…I really don’t know). As far as I know, he hasn’t been implicated in any way in his wife’s death, but the “gossip” is rampant that it was his abuse that drove her to it.

I’ll choose to believe that no matter what, he has had a positive impact on someone, and I’ll celebrate that in the midst of my own sadness over the circumstance.

The same is true with Evans and Morris. Both have had a profound impact of the evangelical church over the past 20 years. They have positively impacted many lives through the ministry the Lord entrusted to them. I will choose to look at that impact and celebrate the goodness of God in those circumstances, even as I lament the sadness of their current circumstances.

And, I don’t know what my former co-worker’s life has been like over these past 35 years. But, I remember him as dedicated public servant who was funny and hard-working, and didn’t have an evil bone in his body. I’m going to celebrate those memories even as I lament the sad, sad nature of the tragic circumstances surrounding his arrest.

Our Work to be Done

The sad news of the past few weeks also serves to remind me that the Church/church has work to do.

Accountability

First, we in the church must practice accountability better, and we must submit ourselves to be accountable to one another. I’ll confess this has been a challenge for me in recent years (since I left vocational ministry). Previously, there were built in relationships that helped shape accountability in my life. As vocational ministry has grown smaller in my rearview, those relationships have likewise faded.

We must be intentional in accountability. That’s one reason I’m a Wesleyan. Wesley’s model of accountability (bands, classes, societies) is an effective model of discipleship when executed properly (and when submitted to properly). The practice of accountability is part and parcel to our pursuit of holiness, and we Wesleyans, if we’re not pursuing holiness, should be doing nothing else.

Prayer

Second, we must pray for those in circumstances like these. I think it was Oswald Chambers who said praying for others is the surest way to discover one’s own salvation. Not only to discover it, but also to live out the holy life to which one is called.

We must pray for every person involved in the situations…for the accused, for the victim/accuser, for their families, for the church. Praying for them helps us not lose sight of the hurt that affects everyone, and it reminds us that both victim and accused are people of sacred worth who are made in God’s image.

Naming Sin

Finally, we must name sin for what it is. Excuse me for saying it this way, but we can’t “poo-poo” sin. We can’t make light of it. We can’t sweep it under the rug. We can’t call it by any other name. Sin is destructive. It destroys lives and there are four very recent examples that leave very little doubt.

Sexual sin appears to be the Devil’s chosen means of destroying Jesus’s Church (and people in general). Folks, we’ve got to put guardrails in place to protect ourselves and the Church from sexual sin (well, all sin, but particularly sexual sin). The Devil has control of the culture and he is using that control to bring down the Church. We have to open our eyes to that reality.

For the Church to call out sin is not to render judgment. The Bible is relatively clear on the matter of sin and for the Church to call it out as such is to be faithful to Scripture. Judgment is the Lord’s, but the Lord has given His Church His Word. It is His Word that renders the judgment, not us as individuals.

I know this post may elicit some negative feedback. That’ll be okay. I won’t judge those who do. I’ll take it all in stride and include it as part of my continuing lament for the current climate of culture and news.

I’ll also remember that someone could someday be saying about me, “Oh! How the mighty have fallen.” Except I’m afraid they’ll be celebrating when they say it.