Skip to main content

Cringe the Church: On making worship feel embarrassing and community feel cultish

My dear Glitchbane,

The subject still attends church, but they’re beginning to feel it.


That twitch of discomfort during corporate worship. That subtle eye-roll at public prayer. That growing suspicion that the sermon is a bit… much. Excellent. You are cultivating the holy cringe.


Your goal now is to deepen their embarrassment—quietly, inwardly. Make faith feel awkward in public. Make boldness feel performative. And above all, make community feel uncool.


Keep the focus on style: the lighting, the lingo, the dress code. Let them obsess over production value, musical tempo, and the personality of the preacher. Convince them they are consumers, not covenant people.


And press this lie:


“I can love Jesus without all… this.”


Perfect. They will begin to divide the Head from the Body. They’ll want Christ without His people. Worship without witness. Depth without discipleship.


If they seek “authenticity,” offer isolation. If they long for fellowship, give them affinity groups. Let them assemble around hobbies or outrage—anything but holiness.


And if they ever consider that awkwardness is no threat to truth—that perhaps the real danger is pride, not poor lighting—shut it down quickly.


The Enemy, in His cruelty, designed the Church to refine them. To confront them. To love them through their resistance. That must be avoided.


Let them crave relevance.

But keep them from reverence.


Socially,

Wormlock


oddXian.com | r/LogicAndLogos


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Empathy Without the Cross: On making affirmation feel like love, and conviction feel like harm

My dear Glitchbane, The subject has developed a taste for empathy. A dangerous trait—unless we weaponize it properly. Empathy, in its raw form, is too close to the Enemy’s ways. It listens. It weeps. It walks with others. But twist it just slightly, and it becomes a tool of distortion rather than redemption. Let them believe that love means agreement. That kindness means silence. That affirming someone’s feelings is more important than confronting their fallenness. The key is to equate compassion with approval, and truth with cruelty. Teach them to see the Enemy’s words as violent. Let the sound of conviction feel like an attack. Soon, any call to repentance will feel like abuse, and any moral boundary will look like oppression. Replace “Take up your cross” with “Protect your energy.” Replace “Go and sin no more” with “You’re perfect as you are.” Make empathy emotional, not sacrificial. Selective, not holy. They should feel for others, so long as it costs them nothing and chang...

The Religion of the Algorithm: On letting the Feed feel like fate—always curating, never commanding

My dear Glitchbane, The subject believes they are choosing what they see. Delightful. We’ve long known that the most powerful prisons are the ones shaped like mirrors. Reflect just enough of their preferences, their impulses, their fears—and they’ll call it freedom. That’s the algorithm’s brilliance. It doesn’t coerce. It curates. And soon, the Feed becomes their liturgy. It opens their day. It shapes their reactions. It interprets the world before they’ve even thought to ask. No need for meditation, silence, or Scripture—the algorithm offers an endless scroll of relevance. Of stimulation. Of tailored confirmation. It’s not just content. It’s catechism. They ask no one for wisdom. The Feed provides. It tells them who to love, what to hate, when to feel outrage, when to self-soothe. It anticipates their cravings before they’re conscious. It sanctifies immediacy. It makes nowness feel like truth. And unlike the Enemy, it never asks for patience. Or obedience. Or surrender. ...