A Boring Church Is Not Holy—It’s Just Boring

Last week, we looked at the Quiet Revival and asked why this unexpected church resurgence is being led mostly by Gen Z men. But that’s not the only trend worth noting.

Here’s the second one: the revival isn’t happening in Adventist churches.

It’s happening in Catholic and Pentecostal spaces.

Let that sit.

While we host yet another committee meeting about whether drums are a slippery slope to Babylon, young people are walking into incense-filled sanctuaries and Spirit-filled worship nights and actually feeling something. Feeling awe. Feeling movement. Feeling like maybe—just maybe—God is real and He’s here.

Now don’t get me wrong—experience isn’t everything. One of my biggest critiques of the modern church, which is undoubtedly reflected in this emerging revival, is the critique that we have turned faith into a consumer product that revolves around programs that we attend, consume, and exit until the next one. But while this critique of modern Christianity is valid, let’s not kid ourselves into thinking that faith experience is something we can ignore. It’s not. And sadly, most of our churches do offer an experience for people who show up - but its not an experience of awe, beauty, or presence.

It’s the opposite.

Allow me to make my case at the risk of hurting some feelings here. But as a young creative with a passion for art and aesthetics, I just can’t anymore. You walk into a typical Adventist church and what do you see? A sea of beige walls and green carpet from 1973. A pulpit that looks like it was designed by a medieval accountant. Fluorescent lights that make your soul feel gray. Music that sounds like an off-key funeral march. And language that hasn’t evolved since the 1800s.

We’ve spent decades criticizing the “mysticism” of Catholic liturgy and the “emotionalism” of Pentecostal worship. And yet, what have we offered in return?

Nothing.
No mystery. No beauty. No transcendence.
Just a Eurocentric formalism that feels more like a funeral than a divine encounter.

It’s monotone. It’s bland. It’s confusingly bad.

So don’t act surprised when they wander toward the sacred hush of ancient cathedrals, or get swept up in the fire and passion of a Spirit-filled Hillsong chorus. Don’t roll your eyes when they light candles or raise their hands. Don’t sneer at the incense, the movement, the tears, the kneeling, the icons, the art, the color, the sound.

Because our alternative? It’s not an alternative.
It’s a half-hearted, hyper-rational, out-of-touch gathering that feels like it’s led by poorly programmed NPC’s rather than filled by the Spirit of the same God who makes the earth tremble.

And no, this isn’t about throwing out our theology or copying other traditions. It’s about asking: Why have we gutted the soul of worship in the name of correctness? Why do we act like the God who split seas, raised the dead, and crafted the stars in blazing fire only deserves an organ, a handshake, and a sermon that feels like a lecture on health insurance?

God is not boring. Why are we?

Don’t get me wrong. I’m not saying we need louder churches. But we do need beautiful ones.
Churches full of wonder.
Full of imagination, art, expression, and creativity.
No, we don’t need to go purchase a set of smoke machines. But maybe—just maybe—some mystery and joy wouldn’t kill us.

We need worship that is embodied. That engages the senses. That makes room for lament, for joy, for awe, for story, for silence. We need churches that commission artists, not just deacons. That value color, sound, texture, design. We need dynamic traditions (not static ones) that speak to the soul. We need language that feels progressive, not prehistoric. We need to stop treating beauty like a distraction and start seeing it as revelation.

Because here’s the truth: beauty is evangelistic. Creativity is compelling. And mystery moves people.

And if we keep offering bland, lifeless, soulless worship while demanding people stay because we “have the truth,” don’t be surprised when the pews stay empty. Because no one is coming back to a church that feels like a DMV with Bible verses.

We need more art.
More diversity.
More presence.
More awe.
More beauty.

Not to manipulate emotions. Not to manufacture hype. But to offer the world a glimpse of heaven.

Because heaven isn’t ugly. And holy doesn’t mean boring.

Have questions about worship and creativity in the SDA church?

Listen to our free podcast series, “Deconstructing the Adventist Worship Wars” HERE.