I really could spill an ocean of ink on this. But if I have to pick one sign of gospel aberration that rises above the rest right now, it’s our obsession with “leaders.”
Not maturity.
Not shared life.
Not mutual discernment.
Leaders.
And I don’t mean healthy influence or experienced voices. I mean the fixation on singular figures — titles, platforms, headship structures — in ways that feel like open defiance of Jesus’ words in Matthew 23.
“Do not be called Rabbi.”
“You are all brothers.”
“The greatest among you shall be your servant.”
We read that and then immediately build systems that hinge on exactly what He warned about.
What that obsession has produced is a body that no longer functions like a body. Christ’s people have been trained to sit still, listen well, and not interfere. We call that order. Scripture calls it something closer to paralysis.
The result is an inert, passive church culture where spiritual responsibility is outsourced upward instead of shared outward. A handful speak. The rest receive. And then we wonder why sanctification feels thin and why discernment feels fragile.
That, to me, is not a side issue. It’s foundational drift.
As for how I talk to people about it when they can’t see it — I think of Whitaker Chambers in Witness. After he left communism, he described what it felt like to speak to his old friends as being like one of those breathless men who had outrun the lava flow of a volcano. You’re trying to tell people the eruption has already started, and they’re still calmly debating policy.
That image stays with me.
It’s not that I think I’m smarter. It’s that once you see the flow, you can’t unsee it. And trying to explain it to those still standing comfortably in it feels surreal.
So I don’t argue much anymore. I describe what I see. I point to the fruit. I point to Matthew 23. I ask simple questions:
Why does our structure look so different from Jesus’ warnings?
Why are we so comfortable with titles He directly resisted?
Why does everything hinge on one voice?
If someone is ready, that’s enough. If they’re not, pressing harder rarely helps.
Well said Bo, as usual. The “fixation on singular figures” is why I plan to write an article/chapter on the deconstruction of Peter in the Gospel of John. The Johannine Jesus never once calls him Peter after their first meeting. John corrects the misinterpretation of Matthew 16 and Peter as the singular rock on which the church is founded. Shockingly the early church still managed to see John 21:15-17 supporting Peter as the first pope, ie “father.”
Thanks for the question Barbara. Beyond the fact that this was not a comprehensive or prioritized list, this post came from a new attempt at writing aphoristically. I also have some aphorisms I’m working on related to misogyny etc, they are just still works in progress.
I really could spill an ocean of ink on this. But if I have to pick one sign of gospel aberration that rises above the rest right now, it’s our obsession with “leaders.”
Not maturity.
Not shared life.
Not mutual discernment.
Leaders.
And I don’t mean healthy influence or experienced voices. I mean the fixation on singular figures — titles, platforms, headship structures — in ways that feel like open defiance of Jesus’ words in Matthew 23.
“Do not be called Rabbi.”
“You are all brothers.”
“The greatest among you shall be your servant.”
We read that and then immediately build systems that hinge on exactly what He warned about.
What that obsession has produced is a body that no longer functions like a body. Christ’s people have been trained to sit still, listen well, and not interfere. We call that order. Scripture calls it something closer to paralysis.
The result is an inert, passive church culture where spiritual responsibility is outsourced upward instead of shared outward. A handful speak. The rest receive. And then we wonder why sanctification feels thin and why discernment feels fragile.
That, to me, is not a side issue. It’s foundational drift.
As for how I talk to people about it when they can’t see it — I think of Whitaker Chambers in Witness. After he left communism, he described what it felt like to speak to his old friends as being like one of those breathless men who had outrun the lava flow of a volcano. You’re trying to tell people the eruption has already started, and they’re still calmly debating policy.
That image stays with me.
It’s not that I think I’m smarter. It’s that once you see the flow, you can’t unsee it. And trying to explain it to those still standing comfortably in it feels surreal.
So I don’t argue much anymore. I describe what I see. I point to the fruit. I point to Matthew 23. I ask simple questions:
Why does our structure look so different from Jesus’ warnings?
Why are we so comfortable with titles He directly resisted?
Why does everything hinge on one voice?
If someone is ready, that’s enough. If they’re not, pressing harder rarely helps.
Well said Bo, as usual. The “fixation on singular figures” is why I plan to write an article/chapter on the deconstruction of Peter in the Gospel of John. The Johannine Jesus never once calls him Peter after their first meeting. John corrects the misinterpretation of Matthew 16 and Peter as the singular rock on which the church is founded. Shockingly the early church still managed to see John 21:15-17 supporting Peter as the first pope, ie “father.”
Ooh, I like the sound of that
Good post Aaron, but why didn’t you say anything about how gender bias plays into all this?
I’m referring to the prevalence of misogyny and himpathy in church spaces.
Thanks for the question Barbara. Beyond the fact that this was not a comprehensive or prioritized list, this post came from a new attempt at writing aphoristically. I also have some aphorisms I’m working on related to misogyny etc, they are just still works in progress.
Thanks Aaron. Understood. And I applaud your attempt to write aphoristically. 🙂