There’s a striking irony in the story of Jim Bakker’s fall from grace. When asked why he did what he did, his answer was unexpected: “I never stopped loving Jesus. I just stopped fearing Jesus.”
That statement lands like a punch to the gut because it reveals something uncomfortable about modern Christianity. We love Jesus—we really do. We show up on Sundays, sing the songs, hear the message, and go home. But somewhere along the way, we’ve lost something essential: the reverence, the awe, the holy fear of God.
The Danger of Predictability
Think about your typical Sunday morning. You know exactly what’s going to happen. The service starts at 10:30. There will be worship songs. The pastor will preach for about twenty-two minutes. An offering will be taken. A prayer will be said. And then you’ll walk out the door, essentially unchanged.
You could almost do it blindfolded.
When church becomes this predictable, something dies. Not love for Jesus—we still love Him. But the fear, the expectation that He might actually show up and do something unexpected, slowly evaporates. He’s no longer Lord; He’s become a pal we visit weekly.
The truth is, when we forget that Jesus is present in every moment—not just Sunday mornings—we lose our spiritual edge. He’s there when we close our bedroom doors. He’s there when we’re texting things we wouldn’t want anyone else to see. He’s there in our private moments, our secret thoughts, our hidden compromises.
The Day Everything Changed
The Day of Pentecost was different. Acts 2 tells the story of a group of believers gathered in an upper room in Jerusalem. They were waiting for something Jesus had promised—though they didn’t know exactly what it would look like.
The key detail? “They were all together in one place” (Acts 2:1). But it’s more than physical proximity. The original language indicates they were unified—in agreement, in purpose, in expectation.
You can cram 299 people into a room, but if they’re not unified, nothing happens. Unity isn’t about voting or majority rule. When you vote, there’s always a loser, and where there’s a loser, division creeps in. True unity means everyone is aligned in purpose, seeking the same thing, expecting God to move.
When Heaven Crashes In
Then it happened. “Suddenly a sound like that of a violent rushing wind came from heaven, and it filled the whole house” (Acts 2:2).
Suddenly.
When was the last time “suddenly” happened in church? When was the last time something occurred that wasn’t on the schedule, wasn’t in the bulletin, wasn’t part of the plan?
We’ve become masters of control. We like order—and God is a God of order. But we’ve used “order” as an excuse to eliminate the supernatural. We’ve created services so predictable that the Holy Spirit would need an appointment to show up.
The early church didn’t know what was coming. They just knew they needed to be together, unified, and expectant. And when the Holy Spirit arrived, everything changed.
Speaking in Languages They Could Understand
The disciples began speaking in different languages—not some mystical, unknowable tongue, but actual languages spoken by the diverse crowd gathered in Jerusalem for the feast. Jews from every nation were there, and each one heard the gospel in their own native language (Acts 2:6-11).
Here’s the profound truth: people need to hear the message in their own language.
Not just Spanish or French or English, but the language of their experience. Young people need to hear the gospel in young people’s language. The broken need to hear it in the language of brokenness and restoration. The addict needs to hear that their past doesn’t define their future. The person who’s walked with Jesus their whole life needs to hear that God’s keeping power is real.
When we speak to people where they are, in language they understand, something remarkable happens: we don’t have to promote it. God promotes it. The crowd gathered not because of advertising or social media campaigns, but because something real was happening.
The Power of Testimony
The crowd heard them “declaring the magnificent acts of God” (Acts 2:11). They were sharing what God had done.
When was the last time you shared what God did for you this week? He woke you up. He kept you safe. He provided. He answered a prayer. He gave you strength when you had none.
We have testimonies—every single one of us. Some have dramatic stories of rescue from the pit. Others have equally powerful stories of God’s protection from ever falling in. Both matter. Both need to be told.
The Scripture says, “They overcome him by the blood of the Lamb and by the word of their testimony” (Revelation 12:11). Your story has power. Your book is being written by God, but it’s no good if you keep it on the shelf where no one can read it.
Moving Past Disunity
If we want to see the Holy Spirit move like He did on Pentecost, we must address disunity. Every dying church has a history of division—pastors fired, members leaving angry, disagreements that festered into bitterness.
Repentance isn’t just for personal sin; it’s for corporate sin too. Where has disunity entered? What needs to be made right? Who needs forgiveness—to give it or receive it?
Forgiveness doesn’t mean forgetting. It means getting off God’s seat and letting Him be the judge while you move forward. It means choosing unity over being right.
The Challenge Before Us
Today can be different. It doesn’t have to be the same old routine. The Holy Spirit is ready to move. He specializes in resurrection and restoration.
But it requires something from us: unity, expectation, and a willingness to let go of control. It means caring more about the one person who needs to hear the gospel than about our preferences and traditions.
Pick one person. Pray for them. Pursue them. Watch what God does.
And remember: we’re not building a castle. We’re building a kingdom. The building could burn down tomorrow, but the church would still exist.
It’s time to encounter Jesus again—not just visit Him on Sundays, but fear Him, reverence Him, and expect Him to show up and change everything.
Because when He does, you won’t need to promote it.
The world will hear.
