A Letter to Modern Church Pastors: Let’s Build the Church the Way Jesus Did

Hey there, beloved pastors and leaders,

Grace and peace to you from our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

You know, whenever I read Paul’s letters to the early churches, I can feel the weight behind his words. It wasn’t just religious talk – it was raw, urgent, heart-on-the-line stuff. He wrote to leaders about leading with humility, to believers about standing firm in truth, and warned everyone about what to watch out for. His letters weren’t instruction manuals, they were lifelines and deep spiritual guidance meant to keep us anchored.

And yet, here we are. Somewhere along the way, we’ve drifted.

We’re working hard, really hard. Especially on Sundays. Sermons, events, teachings… all with the right intentions. But here’s the tough truth – intentions alone aren’t enough. They don’t fix the drift. Maybe it’s not that we’re doing it wrong, it’s that we’ve drifted too far from what was once clear, raw, and simple.

Life pulls us like that sometimes, doesn’t it? One minute you’re focused, and the next, you’re caught in the swirl of routines and expectations. And church feels this way too. What started as a bold, Spirit-filled movement has turned polished, programmed, even professionalized. But good news, drifting isn’t permanent. We can pause, recalibrate and rediscover our way back.

Let’s take a walk back together, not to be sentimental, but to remember who we really are, and who we’re still meant to be.

The Heartbeat of Outreach

Picture the early church – a bunch of fishermen, tax collectors, and outcasts who simply couldn’t keep quiet about Jesus. No strategy meetings. No slick marketing. Just a conviction that overflowed into every conversation, every meal, every moment.

Look at Peter, Paul, and the others. They’re preaching in the streets, synagogues, markets, often at huge personal cost. They let the Holy Spirit lead, and He showed up with signs and wonders to back them up.

Remember Philip and the Ethiopian eunuch (Acts 8:26-40)? Totally unplanned. The Spirit said “Go,” and Philip just… went. No agenda except to share the truth. Today, outreach often looks like polished campaigns, cool presentations and attendance metrics. There’s nothing wrong with structure, but have we traded the heartbeat for the machine?

Have we lost the heart of personal evangelism? Are we still seeing the people God puts in front of us every day? Or are we so caught up in our plans that we’re missing divine appointments? Maybe it’s time to get back to real, Spirit-led conversations.

Who Are We Inviting to the Table?

The early church was crazy inclusive. They didn’t just welcome the well-dressed and respectable. Jesus went straight for the margins – the poor, the enslaved, the unclean. Paul even pointed out to the Corinthians that most of them weren’t exactly society’s elite (1 Corinthians 1:26-29).

Honestly, there are more stories in the Bible about Jesus and His followers reaching the outcasts than there are about reaching the “in-crowd.”

But fast-forward to now, and churches can feel pretty siloed. Tailored for young professionals, suburban families, specific cultures. Sure, it helps people feel seen, but it can also leave others, addicts, widows, refugees, the homeless, feeling like outsiders looking in.

Jesus’ love didn’t draw lines, and ours shouldn’t either. What if our churches looked less like curated clubs and more like messy, beautiful families? Where the “uncomfortable” people felt just as at home as anyone else?

When the Spirit Moves

Imagine the day of Pentecost. Tongues of fire, chaos, languages spilling out everywhere. People understanding each other in ways that made no earthly sense (Acts 2:1-12). It was wild, but it was clearly God.

Throughout Acts, the Holy Spirit keeps showing up – healings, boldness, deliverance, miracles. These weren’t party tricks, they were living proof that God was real, active and right there.

Today? We’re often so focused on keeping things “orderly” that we push the Spirit to the sidelines. We want predictability. Control. But maybe we’ve left no room for God to shake things up?

This isn’t about chasing chaos for chaos’ sake. It’s about opening our hands and letting God move however He wants. To pray expecting Him to show up. To worship without worrying what it looks like. To believe His power is still alive and kicking today. Leave room and time for Jesus. Don’t confine Him to a 2-hour service because we need to start the next one. Allow more time in between services.

Sent Out vs. Drawing In

When Jesus gave His disciples the Great Commission, His words were clear. “Go and make disciples of all nations” (Matthew 28:19). Go. Not stay. Not wait for people to come find us. Not build something to attract others in.

The early church went. To towns nearby and regions far away. Synagogues, markets, anywhere they could. They didn’t wait for people to find them, they found the people.

Today, we mostly say, ‘Come to our church. Come to our event. Come join our thing.’ Again, nothing wrong with inviting people, but are we still going out like Jesus told us to?

If our whole strategy is just about building better services, facilities, and programs, we risk turning the church inward. Our resources go into building better facilities, designing better services, and crafting better messages to bring people in. What if we took that energy and pushed it outward? Equipping believers to bring Jesus into their neighborhoods, offices, and coffee shops? 

The world isn’t exactly lining up to come inside our buildings. But Jesus didn’t call us to build monuments. He called us to move. Let’s carry the gospel where it’s needed most – out there.

From Crowds to Disciples: Attraction vs. Transformation

Here’s the deal, when we build ministries around demographics or hobbies (youth groups, business fellowships, sound teams, sports clubs) we might draw a crowd… but are they looking for Jesus, or just for the fun stuffs?

It’s a subtle shift but a significant one. The essence of what we offer changes from Christ Himself to the things that entertain, comfort, or suit personal preferences.

The kind of fish you catch depends on the bait you use.

When faith gets packaged to fit preferences, it becomes consumeristic. It’s about packaging faith in a way that appeals to what people want, rather than what they need. That’s why there are so many problems in the society today – divorces, addictions, mental health problems.. 

Jesus didn’t preach a feel-good gospel. His call was radical and countercultural. He called people to deny themselves, take up their cross, and follow Him (Matthew 16:24). It’s not about what we can gain but about how we can enter the kingdom, live in obedience, serve, give, and love.

Contrast this with the heart of the gospel. The focus isn’t on our own fulfillment but on the needs of others, on sacrificial love, and on the pursuit of God’s kingdom. When churches prioritize activities and secular appeals, people show up for programs, but not for Him. And when the programs get old, they’re gone. Because Jesus was never their foundation.

Jesus didn’t sugarcoat it. He didn’t entice followers with promises of comfort or earthly benefits. He talked about the narrow road, about counting the cost for eternal rewards. He called people to transformation, not entertainment.

So let’s gut-check ourselves: Are we offering Jesus in His fullness, or just an attractive package with Jesus as a side dish? Are we making disciples, or just filling seats? The true gospel doesn’t cater to consumerism; it calls us to surrender. And in that surrender, we find life.

Reclaiming the Heart of Ministry

Somewhere along the way, real ministry got replaced by… well, stuff that looks good but doesn’t change lives.

Setting up chairs, playing guitar, welcoming at the door – these are fine. But they aren’t the heartbeat of Jesus’ ministry. We’ve swapped healing the sick, setting captives free, and feeding the hungry for tasks that, while useful, don’t carry the weight of transformation.

When you read the Gospels, you see Jesus healing, feeding, delivering, restoring. He didn’t just patch surface needs. He went after the real, deep wounds.

And He sent His followers to do the same (Luke 9:1-2).

Look at how Jesus did ministry. Everywhere He went, lives got turned upside down. Blind eyes were opened, the demon-possessed were set free, the hungry were fed, and the broken found real hope. He wasn’t just patching people up on the surface. He went straight to the root of human suffering and started restoring what was lost.

And when He sent His disciples out, it wasn’t to handle logistics or manage programs. He sent them to heal, to set people free, and to proclaim that the kingdom of God. (Luke 9:1-2). Ministry was never meant to be a list of tasks to check off. It’s always been about real transformation, changing lives from the inside out.

But honestly? In a lot of churches today, the idea of ministry has gotten watered down. We’ve made it about doing stuff that’s practical but often missing real spiritual weight. And sure, someone’s gotta set up chairs and organize schedules – those things matter. But if that’s all we call ministry, we’re missing it. Because we risk training believers to focus on what’s easy to measure and neglect what truly matters – the deep, soul-level work of bringing healing, freedom, and hope to a broken world.

Picture someone walking into church weighed down by despair, just desperate for a real touch from God. What’s going to meet that need – an usher who just show you where the seat is, or a prayer that actually invites the power of the Holy Spirit to move, to comfort, to heal?

Now picture a family barely scraping by, wondering how they’ll put food on the table this week. Will their hunger be filled by a well-organized service, or by someone handing them a meal they didn’t know how they were going to get?

When ministry becomes more about keeping things efficient than actually changing lives, we’ve seriously missed the point.

True ministry reflects the heart of Jesus. It doesn’t stop at surface-level fixes. It digs deep, gets to the root, and brings real healing. It’s more than offering a smile, it’s offering actual restoration. It’s not about giving people a nice experience, it’s about giving them freedom. It’s not just about organizing events, it’s about restoring broken lives.

This is the kind of ministry the world is starving for. And it’s the kind of ministry we’re called to live out.

It’s not enough to keep the machine running. The church doesn’t exist to stay busy. It exists to transform lives, to meet deep spiritual and physical needs that are crying out for answers. Keeping the organization alive is not the goal, fulfilling the mission Jesus gave us is.

So maybe it’s time to ask ourselves – Are we doing what really matters? Are we raising up believers to step into the kind of life-changing ministry Jesus modeled? Or are we just handing out roles that keep the wheels turning but don’t leave an eternal mark?

The world doesn’t need more programs. It needs healing. It needs freedom. It needs restoration. And that’s exactly the kind of work the church was always meant to do.

Everyone’s Called to the Royal Priesthood

Think about the early church. They met in homes. No stage. No fancy production. Just breaking bread and having a meal, songs, prayers, encouragements. Everyone pitched in (1 Corinthians 14:26).

Now, think about most church services today. Stage up front, rows of chairs, a few leading, everyone else watching. Efficient? Yes. Transformative? Maybe not so much.

What if gatherings felt more like family and less like a production? Where everyone had a voice, and every voice mattered?

The early church didn’t have committees or flowcharts. They had real people meeting real needs. Everyone had a role. Nobody was a spectator.

These days, our ministry structures can feel like a fragmented maze and hierarchy –  worship teams, kids ministry, sports clubs (yep, even sports). Are we empowering every believer to serve, or creating a divide between “those who minister” and “those who are ministered to”?

Some of us have to manage Kingdom work by hiring more full-time workers, and to sustain this, we ask churchmembers for more financial support. This is dangerous, as we might be sending the wrong message that they can outsource Kingdom work to church ministers and full-time workers just by giving money, when they should be the ones praying, worshipping, healing, evangelising, even preaching and teaching.

Imagine a church where everyone – young, old, new believers, seasoned saints – showed up ready to give, serve, encourage. Where ministry wasn’t something you signed up for but something you lived out every day.

Lessons from the Fire

The early church wasn’t shaped by comfort. It was forged in the fire of real persecution. Their faith wasn’t a hobby or a weekend activity. It was life or death. They were beaten, thrown into prison, and even killed for what they believed. And yet, somehow, they kept going with unshakable joy and courage (Acts 8:1-3). Their suffering didn’t break them. It made them stronger. They clung to God with everything they had, and their unity was rock solid.

Fast forward to today, and most of us live pretty comfortable lives. We must be thankful for the freedoms we have, but if we’re being honest, comfort can mess with us too. It lulls us into complacency. It softens our grit. It blurs our focus on what really matters.

What would it look like if we lived with the same urgency and clarity as those early believers who were willing to lose everything for the sake of the gospel?

Why This Matters

So why even talk about going back to the way the early church did things? Because it reminds us who we really are, and whose we are.

In the raw simplicity of their gatherings, the boldness of their outreach, and the depth of their love, the early believers reflected the very heart of Christ. They weren’t perfect, but their devotion was pure. They loved God with everything they had and loved each other like family, just like Jesus asked them to.

In a world that’s becoming more fragmented and skeptical by the day, the authenticity and unity of the church might just be our loudest testimony.

This isn’t about longing for the “good old days” or copying history for nostalgia’s sake. It’s about getting back to the heart of what the church was always meant to be. A people marked by love. By unity. By the real, living power of the Spirit.

So maybe it’s time for us to take a hard look at ourselves. Are we building the church on human wisdom, or are we letting God shape us into His image? Are we living to make His name known, or are we just busy building our own little kingdoms?

Let’s have the courage to repent of anything that’s gotten in the way, and recommit our whole hearts to following Christ the way He asked us to.

An Invitation and Encouragement

I’m not saying all this to criticize or tear down. I’m writing it because I still believe in the church. I believe in what it can be. A force for good. A beacon of real hope. A reflection of Christ’s unstoppable love in a world that’s breaking apart.

The same Spirit that set the early church on fire? He’s still living in us. The same gospel that transformed lives two thousand years ago? Still just as powerful today.

Let’s fix our eyes back on Jesus, the one who started our faith and the one who will finish it (Hebrews 12:1-2). Let’s run with everything we’ve got.

Let’s ask the hard questions we usually avoid. Let’s pray bold prayers for the courage to change and the grace to grow. Let’s commit to being the kind of church Jesus dreamed about – not perfect, but faithful.

Now to Him who is able to do so much more than we could ever ask or even imagine, by the power that’s already working in us, to Him be the glory in the church and in Christ Jesus, through every generation, forever and ever. Amen (Ephesians 3:20-21).

May the grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God, and the fellowship of the Holy Spirit be with you all.

Yours in Christ,

A Fellow Servant of the Gospel