sector7-signal-Inkari

Worship isn’t supposed to be a vibe. But that’s what we’ve turned it into.

Fog machines, mood lighting, and lyrics that sound more like a clean Taylor Swift breakup track than adoration before the throne of the Almighty. This isn’t reverence. It’s romance. And not the holy kind.

Once upon a time, worship meant trembling in awe of a holy God. Now it’s about me. My feelings. My vibes. My breakthrough. We’ve swapped reverence for relatability, holiness for hashtags. God is no longer high and lifted up—He’s just the cozy boyfriend who “really gets me.”

And let’s stop pretending this is harmless. This is heresy.

Lauren Daigle’s “You Say” became a crossover darling, but the theology is as hollow as her answers on sin. Back in 2018, when asked if homosexuality was a sin, she said it was “too murky” to make a biblical judgment. It’s 2025. She still hasn’t found her Bible.

Cory Asbury’s “Reckless Love”—you remember that one. Churches sang it like it was the new Psalm 23. Except discernment ministries warned you it was rotten from the start. Asbury isn’t just sloppy with words; he’s tied to Bethel, the chicken-feather-flying, glitter-pouring cult in Redding, California. Call it what it is.

Then there’s Hillsong United. Need I say more? The gay-affirming, charismatic, pedophile-protecting empire from Australia has been pumping out “worship hits” for years—songs as polished as their scandals are dark.

And Elevation Worship’s “Do It Again”? Another anthem from Steven Furtick’s circus of self-help sermons and shallow theology. Let’s not forget: Furtick’s a modalist now. Yes, the same heresy that denies the Trinity—central to Christian faith since the beginning. But sure, sing his songs in your sanctuary. What could go wrong?

Here’s the truth: if your “worship” leaves you applauding the band more than bowing before the Lord, it wasn’t worship. If your setlist could double as a self-love playlist, it’s not holy ground—it’s hollow ground. If your lyrics never mention sin, repentance, holiness, or the cross, then you’re not singing about Jesus. You’re singing about yourself.

Jesus said it plain: “But a time is coming, and even now has arrived, when the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth; for such people the Father seeks to be His worshipers. God is spirit, and those who worship Him must worship in spirit and truth” (John 4:23–24, NASB1995).

Spirit and truth. Not vibes and fog machines.

We don’t need another earworm that could just as easily play in Starbucks as in church. We need worship that cuts us open, convicts us of sin, magnifies His holiness, and calls us to repentance. Songs that tremble with awe. Songs that bleed reverence. Songs that put God back in the center and us in the dust where we belong.

Because worship was never meant to be a vibe. It was meant to be an altar.

If your worship can’t survive without a smoke machine, it isn’t worship. ~ Inkari

Sector Δ7
Data Recovered – John 4:23–24
Transmission Archived