When Church Becomes a Production

Recently, Druski has been catching heat for his skit that reflects how many people already feel about megachurches, pastors, and the performance side of church.

I’ve been a church girl all my life. I know church culture. I know the language, the scriptures, the expectations. I’ve served, worked in ministry, and sat through more services than I can count. So when I speak on what’s happening in church spaces today, it’s from lived experience.

Over the past few years, pastors and church leaders have gone viral for all the wrong reasons. Adultery, abuse, double lives, financial scandals, etc. Power is being misused and then quietly protected. Some names are nationally known. Others rotate through social media every few months. Whether every accusation proves true isn’t even the main issue anymore. The real issue is that people aren’t surprised. That says a lot.

It feels like an exposure season, but honestly, it’s more like confirmation of what many people have felt but didn’t always have language for.

Of course, there are still good churches out here. There are still pastors who lead with integrity, who shepherd people instead of managing platforms. There are congregations doing real work in their communities, loving people well, and living what they preach.

They exist.

But they’re getting drowned out.

They’re overshadowed by the scandals, the spectacle, the constant messiness, and the loudest voices in the room, voices that often don’t represent the healthiest expression of faith. Right now, dysfunction has the microphone.

The Druski church skit stirred up a lot of pastors and church folks. Some called it disrespectful and said that he needed to repent. Some said it was mocking God. I didn’t see it that way. He actually nailed it. What he did was show the performance side of church, the manipulation, the theatrics, the pressure, the hustle. If we’re honest, that skit wouldn’t have landed if it didn’t resemble something people recognize. That familiarity is what made folks uncomfortable.

What troubles me most isn’t just leadership failures. It’s how scripture gets used to shield them. Verses taken out of context to protect leaders instead of people. Congregations are told to stay quiet, submit, forgive quickly, and move on while the same cycles repeat. Accountability is preached to the pews but rarely applied to the pulpit. There has been a disconnect, and people are now feeling it and talking about it.

I haven’t been going to church consistently in recent years. Part of that is life. But another part is what became clearer once I stepped outside the building. Distance sharpens vision. I’ve visited many churches in search of a new church home, and I keep encountering the same pattern, polished services, big screens, lights, cameras, strict timelines, and very little depth. No time for the Spirit to come in and have its way.

Then there’s the multi-campus model.

One main pastor. Several locations. Different buildings filled with people who got dressed, drove across town, parked, found seats, and then watched the sermon on a screen. Yes, there are campus pastors present. But the primary voice, authority, and message still come from a broadcast. You don’t get the full experience unless you go to the main campus.

At some point, we have to be honest about what that creates.

If the sermon I’m watching is the same one being livestreamed online, what’s the real difference between sitting in a sanctuary and sitting on my couch? Why am I coming to church to watch a screen, just with louder music and better lighting?

Church was never meant to feel like a watch party.

That model may grow numbers, but it doesn’t grow connections. It builds an audience, not disciples. It turns worship into consumption and believers into spectators. And quietly, it reinforces the idea that one person’s voice matters more than the community gathered in the room.

What I keep seeing is production without transformation. Everything looks good and sounds good, but something is missing. Fellowship feels thin. Intimacy feels forced. Ministry feels more like a brand than a calling.

That’s what has me questioning whether I want to return to church the way I once knew it.

I miss real church. Not perfect church, just a real church. Where people were flawed but honest. Where leadership wasn’t untouchable. Where you didn’t feel like an audience member watching a show. Where the Spirit wasn’t rushed because the service had to end on time or sync with another campus.

I still love God. That hasn’t changed.
I still value fellowship and serving. That hasn’t changed.

What has changed is my tolerance for fake, performative faith.

The church isn’t under attack. It’s being exposed. God has not failed, people did. If churches want people like me back, it won’t be through bigger buildings, more campuses, or sharper visuals. It will be through humility, integrity, real accountability, and leaders more committed to living the Word than selling it.

Maybe that’s why the Druski skit struck such a nerve. It didn’t invent anything, it reflected it. Satire has a way of exposing what people have learned to tolerate. If church culture didn’t already feel performative to so many, the joke wouldn’t have worked. The laughter wasn’t disbelief, it was recognition. And instead of asking why a comedian could see what believers are feeling, maybe the better question is why so many churches gave him the material in the first place.