Spiritual Sleepiness: Shallowing Theology and the Church Growth Movement
July 13, 2025
Dr. Bradford Reaves
Crossway Christian Fellowship
2 Peter 2:1-3, 1 Timothy 4:1-3, Revelation 3:14-16, 2 Peter 1:5-8
Introduction: Navigating The Fog of Modern Faith
On September 1, 1983, Korean Air Flight 007 drifted silently off course while flying from New York to Seoul. Its pilots, unaware of a tiny navigational error, crossed into Soviet airspace during the height of the Cold War. Soviet radar picked it up, mistook it for a U.S. spy plane, and ordered it shot down. In minutes, 269 innocent people fell from the sky.
The world reeled. How could such a catastrophe happen? Investigators discovered the chilling truth: the aircraft’s autopilot was engaged, but the flight crew had failed to notice a slight deviation early in the journey. Over time, that small drift became a deadly trajectory.
It’s a haunting picture of where much of the Western Church finds itself today. It’s not just about sleepiness; it’s about a course error that felt imperceptible but proved catastrophic.
We live in an age where church platforms shine brighter than operating rooms, worship teams rival pop bands, and the Sunday sermon has been carefully distilled into a 28-minute TED Talk with a side of Scripture. But beneath the gloss of production and the metrics of success—attendance spikes, social media impressions, giving campaigns—lurks a growing hollowness.
The Church, in many corners of the West, is asleep. And worse—it’s dreaming that it’s awake.
We have traded the prophetic voice of the pulpit for polished programming. We have exchanged discipleship for brand loyalty. What we’re seeing is not just a drift; it’s a delusion.
This isn’t about bashing the Bride of Christ. God forbid. This is about loving her enough to say, ‘Wake up before it’s too late!’ Jesus warned the Laodicean church: “You say, I am rich, I have prospered, and I need nothing, not realizing that you are wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked” (Revelation 3:17).
Could it be that in our generation we’ve mistaken activity for anointing? Are we building disciples or collecting consumers? Are we shaping souls or sculpting influencers? But make no mistake, this is spiritual warfare and intentional deception of the enemy.
Like KAL 007, the Church didn’t veer off course in one big, obvious turn. It was a slow drift—just a few degrees at a time. A compromise here, a neglected truth there, and suddenly we find ourselves in enemy airspace, not even realizing the danger. This is how the Enemy works. He doesn’t need to convince us to abandon Christ outright—he only needs to nudge us toward comfort, entertainment, and compromise until we’re flying blind.
Theology matters. So let’s ask the hard question: Where did the drift begin? How did theology, once the lifeblood of the Church, become shallow enough to drown in a puddle?
I. The Apostolic Alarm (2 Peter 2:1–3)
1 But false prophets also arose among the people, just as there will be false teachers among you, who will secretly bring in destructive heresies, even denying the Master who bought them, bringing upon themselves swift destruction. 2 And many will follow their sensuality, and because of them the way of truth will be blasphemed. 3 And in their greed they will exploit you with false words. Their condemnation from long ago is not idle, and their destruction is not asleep. (2 Peter 2:1–3)
Peter wastes no time with ambiguity. He warns of a subtle invasion—"false teachers... who will secretly bring in destructive heresies." This isn't an all-out frontal assault on orthodoxy; it is subterfuge. Truth gets diluted. Heresy wears a smile. "Many will follow their sensuality," Peter says—not just physical indulgence, but emotionalism that replaces repentance. Feelings over faith. Hype over holiness.
Like Flight KAL 007, the Church didn’t wake up one day and decide to abandon truth. It was a slow drift—one small compromise at a time.
Once, the pulpit was a sacred desk where God’s Word thundered. Now, in many places, it has become a stage for motivational talks sprinkled with Scripture, carefully designed not to offend. In the name of “church growth,” theology has been dumbed down, rebranded as divisive, and replaced with marketing strategies.
Notice Peter’s warning: “There will be false teachers among you, who will secretly bring in destructive heresies.”
These heresies don’t come in shouting; they creep in.
They sound spiritual, even biblical, but they are designed to empty the truth of its power.
Instead of the full counsel of God, people are fed half-truths that tickle ears and keep them coming back for more.
My people are destroyed for lack of knowledge; because you have rejected knowledge, (Hosea 4:6)
Theology matters. What you believe about God determines how you live for Him. Shallow theology produces shallow Christians. Flimsy doctrine produces fragile disciples—people who cave under cultural pressure because they’ve never been rooted in truth.
The goal of the church isn’t to fill seats; it’s to fill hearts with Christ. Have you ever eaten cotton candy? It looks massive, colorful, and fun. But the moment you put it in your mouth, it dissolves into nothing. There’s no substance—just sugar and air. Much of modern preaching is like that. It looks impressive, it feels good for a moment, but there’s no nourishment for the soul. When the storms come—and they will come—cotton candy Christians won’t stand.
Theology matters because souls are at stake. Paul warned Timothy:
For the time is coming when people will not endure sound teaching, but having itching ears they will accumulate for themselves teachers to suit their own passions, 4 and will turn away from listening to the truth and wander off into myths. (2 Timothy 4:3–4)
This is not the time for shallow sermons. It’s the time to dig deep, to contend for the faith, and to stand firm in the truth that alone can save. Church, we are called to be Bereans (Acts 17:11), testing every word against the Word of God. Shallow theology leads to shallow living—and shallow living won’t survive the storms ahead. But when we dig deep into God’s truth, we are building on the Rock that cannot be shaken.
II. The Spirit’s Warning (1 Timothy 4:1–3)
Now the Spirit expressly says that in later times some will depart from the faith by devoting themselves to deceitful spirits and teachings of demons, 2 through the insincerity of liars whose consciences are seared, 3 who forbid marriage and require abstinence from foods that God created to be received with thanksgiving by those who believe and know the truth. (1 Timothy 4:1-3)
Paul echoes the same urgency. "The Spirit expressly says that in later times some will depart from the faith." Paul says these teachings come from “deceitful spirits and doctrines of demons.” That’s strong language—but it’s Spirit-inspired. When churches trade conviction for convenience, it’s not progress—it’s apostasy dressed up in skinny jeans and a fog machine.
We’re not called to be managers of religious goods and services. We’re called to be watchmen, warning the flock and feeding them the whole counsel of God.
Remember the Titanic? It was marketed as unsinkable, the pinnacle of human innovation. The problem wasn’t in their marketing—it was in their arrogance. The crew ignored warnings of icebergs because they were too busy managing appearances and pampering first-class passengers. Today, many churches are running the same way. They’re focused on keeping the lights pretty and the passengers entertained… but they’ve forgotten we’re supposed to be in the business of rescue, not recreation.
We don’t need more strategies. We need more shepherds.
We don’t need bigger buildings. We need bolder pulpits.
We don’t need better programs. We need deeper prayer.
Church, Jesus isn’t coming back for an entrepreneurial empire. He’s not impressed with how many Instagram followers a church has or how sleek its branding looks. He’s coming back for a Bride—not a business. A Bride who is pure, awake, and ready for her Groom.
Husbands, love your wives, as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her, 26 that he might sanctify her, having cleansed her by the washing of water with the word, 27 so that he might present the church to himself in splendor, without spot or wrinkle or any such thing, that she might be holy and without blemish. (Ephesians 5:25–27)
We’re not called to grow organizations; we’re called to prepare the Bride for the wedding feast of the Lamb.
Let us rejoice and exult and give him the glory, for the marriage of the Lamb has come, and his Bride has made herself ready; (Revelation 19:7)
And they devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers. 43 And awe came upon every soul, and many wonders and signs were being done through the apostles. 44 And all who believed were together and had all things in common. 45 And they were selling their possessions and belongings and distributing the proceeds to all, as any had need. 46 And day by day, attending the temple together and breaking bread in their homes, they received their food with glad and generous hearts, 47 praising God and having favor with all the people. And the Lord added to their number day by day those who were being saved. (Acts 2:42–47)
But too many are settling for a church that looks alive but is hollow inside. Like Samson shaking himself, unaware that the Spirit had departed (Judges 16:20), we’re at risk of mistaking busyness for the blessing of God. That means we not only have the theology correctly, but we are living out the theology in real ways: In our Word, in our Worship, in our Outreach and Evangelism, and in our Fellowship.
III. The Church Growth Mirage
“And to the angel of the church in Laodicea write: ‘The words of the Amen, the faithful and true witness, the beginning of God’s creation. 15 “I know your works: you are neither cold nor hot. Would that you were either cold or hot! 16 So, because you are lukewarm, and neither hot nor cold, I will spit you out of my mouth. (Revelation 3:14–16)
Enter the Church Growth Movement. Let’s be fair: not everything in it is evil. Excellence is good. Innovation has its place. But somewhere along the way, the metrics became the mission. What we did is we began to measure success by scale, not sanctification.
Programs replaced pastoral care.
Branding replaced Bible teaching.
Growth became god, and pastors became CEOs of spiritual corporations.
But here’s the danger that all churches should realize: You can build a crowd without building a Church.
Jesus fed five thousand, and there was a great crowd of people, but when the crowd didn’t like His message, they walked away.
It is the Spirit who gives life; the flesh is no help at all. The words that I have spoken to you are spirit and life. 64 But there are some of you who do not believe.” (For Jesus knew from the beginning who those were who did not believe, and who it was who would betray him.) 65 And he said, “This is why I told you that no one can come to me unless it is granted him by the Father.” 66 After this many of his disciples turned back and no longer walked with him. (John 6:63–66)
Too many churches today are designed to keep the crowd—even if that means watering down the call to die to self.
We’ve got churches full of people who love the idea of Jesus but have never surrendered to His Lordship.
People who cry during worship but choke when called to holiness.
People comfortable in spiritual mediocrity, believing lukewarm is enough.
People who desire to feed the flesh, but quench the spirit so that they do not have to change.
For you say, I am rich, I have prospered, and I need nothing, not realizing that you are wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked. (Revelation 3:17)
We are entertaining goats instead of feeding sheep. This is Laodicea. Wealthy. Impressive. Respected. But in Jesus’ eyes? Blind. Naked. Wretched.
They had crowds but no cross.
They had relevance but no repentance.
They had influence but no intimacy with Christ.
The sobering reality is this: you can pack auditoriums and still hear Jesus say, “I never knew you” (Matthew 7:23). But Jesus doesn’t slam the door on Laodicea—He knocks on it. “Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me.” (Revelation 3:20) He’s still calling His Bride back to Himself. The question is: will we trade the mirage for the Master?
IV. Returning to the Depth of the Word (2 Peter 1:5–8)
For this very reason, make every effort to supplement your faith with virtue, and virtue with knowledge, 6 and knowledge with self-control, and self-control with steadfastness, and steadfastness with godliness, 7 and godliness with brotherly affection, and brotherly affection with love. 8 For if these qualities are yours and are increasing, they keep you from being ineffective or unfruitful in the knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ. (2 Peter 1:5–8)
Here’s the problem: shallow theology cannot sustain deep faith. It will not survive pressure, persecution, or prophetic fulfillment. The enemy is not threatened by a busy church. He’s threatened by a biblical one.
Jesus warned about the seed that fell on shallow soil (Matt. 13). It sprang up quickly, but withered under trial. That’s the shallow Church: lots of enthusiasm, no endurance.
Our times demand believers with roots—disciples grounded in doctrine, shaped by truth, and guided by the Spirit. Because the deception coming isn’t just cultural; it will be spiritual, supernatural, and seductive (2 Thess. 2:9–12).
Peter gives us the antidote: supplement your faith with virtue, knowledge, self-control, steadfastness, godliness, brotherly affection, and love.
These qualities don’t grow through Sunday pep talks. They grow through:
Preaching that cuts For the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and of spirit, of joints and of marrow, and discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart. (Hebrews 4:12)
Discipleship that costs. And he said to all, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. (Luke 9:23)
Community that convicts. Iron sharpens iron, and one man sharpens another. (Proverbs 27:17)
Surrender that transforms Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewal of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect. (Romans 12:2)
Let me offer some clear pastoral direction:
Examine your own walk. Are you consuming spiritual sugar or meat?
Anchor yourself in a Bible-teaching church. Not a place that entertains, but one that equips.
Discern the message behind the method. Slick production isn’t bad—but what’s being preached?
Reject celebrity Christianity. Follow shepherds, not influencers.
Prioritize obedience over inspiration. God blesses faithfulness, not flashiness.
Spiritual sleepiness is not the absence of activity; it’s the absence of depth. A sleeping church can still sing, serve, and smile—but it cannot stand in the days ahead. Only the rooted will remain. Only the watchful will discern. Only the deep will endure.
