Dear Theo,
A few years ago I visited a church that could have sold tickets. The band was tight, the lighting changed with the set list, and the sermon came with a stage design. It was impressive, and I understand why people drive past six other churches to get there.
The next week I preached at a church of about sixty people in a plain brick building. No fog, no stage. They sang hymns, I read a long passage of Scripture, and we took the Lord’s Supper from simple trays. Walking to my car afterward, a visitor described it with a word I have not forgotten: boring.
I have thought about that word a lot since then. It was honest, and it raises a fair question. If church is supposed to be the great work of God in the world, why does it so often look unimpressive? My answer is that the plainness is the point. God has always done His mightiest work through means that look like nothing, and He has attached His promises to those means. We call them the ordinary means of grace.
What “Ordinary Means of Grace” Means
That phrase is a technical term, so let me define it plainly. The ordinary means of grace are the tools God has appointed for communicating His grace to sinners and strengthening His people: the Word of God read and preached, prayer, and the ordinances of baptism and the Lord’s Supper.
The word “ordinary” does not mean low quality. It means normal, appointed, promised. God is free to work however He pleases, but He has told us where He will ordinarily be found, and He has bound Himself by covenant promise to meet His people there. The 1689 London Baptist Confession says that the grace of faith “is ordinarily wrought by the ministry of the Word” (1689 London Baptist Confession 14.1). Ordinarily. That is the normal channel, and the Confession treats the exceptions as exceptions.
This is why the early church’s calendar reads so strangely next to our modern expectations. Luke tells us that the first Christians “devoted themselves to the apostles’ teaching and the fellowship, to the breaking of bread and the prayers” (Acts 2:42 ESV). No program, no production. Teaching, fellowship, the Supper, prayer. And that church turned the world upside down.
Why God Chose Unimpressive Tools
Here is the principle behind it, and Paul states it with force: “God chose what is foolish in the world to shame the wise; God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong” (1 Corinthians 1:27 ESV). God seems to delight in using instruments that take no credit for the result.
Consider preaching. A man stands up, opens a book, and talks for forty minutes. By every standard of modern communication it is a relic. Yet Paul says it pleased God “through the folly of what we preach to save those who believe” (1 Corinthians 1:21 ESV). The power of preaching is not in the preacher’s eloquence but in the Spirit’s promise. “So faith comes from hearing, and hearing through the word of Christ” (Romans 10:17 ESV). This is why Paul charges Timothy simply to “preach the word; be ready in season and out of season” (2 Timothy 4:2 ESV). No adjectives, no modifiers. Preach the Word.
The same holds for the ordinances. Baptism is water and a few words. The Lord’s Supper is bread and wine. To an outsider they are strange rituals. But Christ Himself instituted them, and He did not do so as decoration. In baptism we are buried and raised with Him according to His command to go and make disciples, “baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit” (Matthew 28:19 ESV). At the Table we proclaim His death “until he comes” (1 Corinthians 11:26 ESV). Plain elements, enormous meaning, because God said so.
Even prayer looks unimpressive. A room full of ordinary people asking God for things they cannot get themselves. Yet prayer is one of the parts of religious worship God has appointed (1689 London Baptist Confession 21.5), and Scripture urges it for everyone: “I urge that supplications, prayers, intercessions, and thanksgivings be made for all people” (1 Timothy 2:1 ESV). The weakness of prayer is its strength. It confesses that we cannot save ourselves, which is the truth.
I find the prophet’s old question still hangs in the air: “who despised the day of small things?” (Zechariah 4:10 ESV). It is a warning. The small things are often the true things.
Judging a Church by the Right Standard
So how should we judge a church? Not by production value. Here is a better set of questions.
First, is the Word read and preached in a way you can understand and check? A healthy church opens the Bible and explains it, verse by verse if need be, in plain language. You should be able to follow along and verify. The Thessalonians were commended for examining the Scriptures daily to see whether what Paul said was true (Acts 17:11 ESV). A church that discourages that kind of checking is not humble; it is insecure.
Second, are the ordinances practiced with care? Baptism for believers, the Lord’s Supper for the church, both according to Christ’s institution. A church that treats the ordinances as optional extras has set aside two of the clearest commands its Lord ever gave it.
Third, is prayer a real part of the church’s life, not a transition between the songs? Prayer is where a church admits its dependence on God. A church that prays a lot is usually a church that knows it needs help, and that is a healthy thing to know.
Fourth, what does the church produce over time? I have learned in teaching teenagers that you cannot measure a ministry by the excitement of one evening. You measure it over years. Are people growing in holiness? Are marriages being repaired? Are the young learning the faith? The flashy service produces a moment. The ordinary means produce a lifetime.
Let me add a word of charity here, because disagreement is fine and sneering is not. There are large churches with excellent production that preach the Word faithfully and practice the ordinances carefully, and I rejoice in them. The question is never about size or style. The question is whether the church trusts the means God appointed or has substituted its own. A plain church can be faithless, and a large church can be faithful. Judge by the means, not the budget.
The Pastor’s Side of Boredom
I should confess something from the pulpit side. It is tempting for preachers to dress up the ordinary means because they feel insufficient. Forty minutes of exposition feels so small next to a lifetime of a teenager’s questions. Simple bread and wine feel so small next to a family’s grief. We want to add something, to contribute, to make it work.
But the Confession’s word “ordinarily” is a comfort to pastors too. God has promised to work through the ministry of the Word. My job is to handle the Word faithfully and clearly. His job is the outcome. That division of labor keeps me from despair on the slow weeks and from pride on the good ones. The means are mine to use. The results are His to give.
Plain Churches and Real Hope
So here is my encouragement, especially if your church looks boring next to the one with the light show. You are not missing out. You are attending a church that trusts God’s own instruments: the Word read and preached, prayer offered in dependence, baptism and the Lord’s Supper kept as Christ commanded. These are the channels through which the Spirit has always worked, and He has not run out of power.
The kingdom of God rarely announces itself with spectacle. It grows like seed in a field, quietly and surely, until the harvest. One day the harvest will be visible, and the boring churches will be seen for what they were: the healthiest ones in town.
Sincerely, your friend