Let’s stop pretending.
This isn’t evangelism.
This is idolatry in disguise.
You’ve baptized compromise and called it creativity.
You’ve clothed rebellion in relevance,
And made God’s altar a stage for your ego.
How much more of the world must you wear
Before you realize the Gospel is naked truth
Not a costume for cultural approval?
How many times must you flirt with sin
Before you admit—you love it?
You don't hate evil.
You hate being called out.
You don’t want repentance.
You want applause.
You want to keep your sin,
But add “Jesus” to the bio
So you feel better when you sleep around with pride.
You don’t want the Man Christ Jesus
Who flipped tables and called men whitewashed tombs.
You want a soft-spoken, PR-approved,
Instagram-verified, people-pleasing mascot.
But God will not be mocked.
You chase His hand for the gift,
But spit on His face when He asks for your life.
You want provision, but not presence.
You want miracles, but not submission.
You want platforms, but not purity.
Tell me
Is Jesus not enough of a brand?
You walk like the world,
Talk like the world,
Flirt with the world,
Then cry “persecution” when it doesn’t clap for your hollow, fog-filled concert.
You made Him an accessory.
You put Him on a T-shirt,
Slapped Him in your bio,
And buried Him under ambition.
He is not your mascot.
He is King.
And He will be treated as such.
If the message doesn’t have lights,
If the preacher doesn’t rhyme,
If the singer isn’t “branded” enough,
You say it’s not Spirit-filled.
Since when did the Holy Ghost depend on your playlist?
I cry for you.
I cry for the singer drowning in the noise of their gift.
For the preacher who can draw a crowd but can’t discern demons.
For the Christian who dances to the rhythm of hell and calls it freedom.
God help us.
God strip us.
God expose every idol we’ve built with Christian labels.
You’ve rebranded Christ
As if His blood wasn’t enough.
As if His Word needs help.
As if holiness is optional.
As if the cross is too offensive to carry anymore.
But I’ll tell you this
When He returns,
He’s not coming for influencers.
He’s not coming for worship celebrities.
He’s not coming for lukewarm ministries.
He’s coming for a BRIDE.
Holy.
Set apart.
Uncompromised.
And if your heart is still married to the world,
You will be left behind with it.
Don’t be fooled.
He is not passive.
He is not silent.
He is not mocked.
This is your warning.
Not your invitation.
REPENT.
Now.
Not when it’s trending.
Not when it’s safe.
Not when it’s popular again.
Now
Before your voice is silenced,
Before your lamp is snuffed out,
Before He comes like a thief in the night
And finds you full of you.
Strip the brand.
Kill the pride.
Burn the platform.
And return to the God
Whose holiness will either save you… or crush you.
