We Now Live in the "Church by the Glades" Age - How Did We Get Here?

There was a time when men sought depth. When they valued wisdom. When they labored over difficult truths because they knew that understanding took effort, that knowledge required patience, that faith—real faith—was something to be cultivated, not consumed.

But that time is long gone.

Now, we live in the age of Church by the Glades, an era of faith so vapid, so hollow, so devoid of substance that calling it Christianity is an insult to Christ. This is not a church. This is a spiritual nightclub, a bastardization of worship where the gospel has been stripped for parts and replaced with entertainment, spectacle, and an endless pursuit of relevance.

And what does relevance look like in this hollowed-out shell of modern Christianity?

It looks like this, January 19, 2025. Church by the Glades kicks off its new sermon series on money—not with a call to biblical stewardship, not with an exposition of Proverbs, not even with a counterfeit prosperity gospel sermon. No, no (though they do do that). They introduce it by worshiping at the altar of the left's social justice deity, Martin Luther King Jr., followed immediately by a Jonas Brothers cover of “Year 3000.”

Indeed. A pop song about partying in the future, complete with a prophetic vision of triple-breasted women, was their idea of a fitting transition from “honoring” their sacred cow to preaching on finances.

This wasn’t an accident. This wasn’t just an injudicious attempt at being edgy. They do this all the time. I’ve covered this countless times. It was a deliberate and purposeful move, because Church by the Glades doesn’t care about MLK. They don’t care about civil rights. They don’t care about black people or white people or any people—except for the ones who fill the seats and open their wallets.

It’s all optics. The whole thing.

And their pastor, David Hughes, isn’t a pastor—he’s a salesman. He’s running a brand, and that brand needs to look superior to all those other churches—you know, those old-fashioned, boring churches where people still believe in expository preaching and absolute truth. Hughes can’t have that. He needs his church to be with the times, hip, trendy, progressive.

So what does he do? He does what every clout-chasing, theology-averse, evangelical CEO does—he signals. He performs. He stages a moment of civil rights reflection, making sure the massive screen behind the pulpit displays a monolithic image of MLK—not Jesus, not a cross, not a bible verse, but MLK—because that’s what the world respects. That’s what gets the approval of the godless media, the secular elites, the influencers.

And then, as if to drive the point home—as if to mock the very concept of biblical worship itself—they transition straight into a Jonas Brothers pop concert.

Not because it makes sense. Not because it glorifies God. But because the audience will eat it up.

And the audience does.

That’s the worst part.