If Charles Spurgeon Could Speak, He’d Probably Drop the Mic on Your Mega-Worship Rally
Have you ever wondered what the “Prince of Preachers”—Charles Haddon Spurgeon, that gruff London pastor who filled the Music Hall with 10,000 worshipers every Sunday—would make of today’s church scene? Spoiler alert: he’d be equal parts horrified, heartbroken, and ready to call out our nonsense with classic Spurgeon snark. Imagine him perched on a velvet throne, cane in hand, surveying flashing lights, coffee bars, megachurch empires, and prosperity pop-up seminars—and here’s what he’d say.
1. “False Gospel Beasts”—Spurgeon vs. Any Gospel That Isn’t the True Gospel
Spurgeon’s Take: “If any man preach any other gospel unto you than that ye have received, let him be accursed.”
—Galatians 1:9 (Spurgeon’s own favorite hang-’em-high warning)
Spurgeon loved that verse so much, he practically etched it on church doorposts. Today, we have TikTok pastors selling “Jesus plus X” formulas—“Jesus plus prosperity equals perfect life.” Spurgeon would stomp on his pulpit, point at the screen, and roar, “That is not the gospel; it is a filthy counterfeit!”
He famously quipped, “I had rather preach ten sermons on the wrath of God than one on His grace if I may but make you feel your need of it.” Modern preachers tiptoe around wrath like it’s a toddler’s tantrum. They baptize soap-opera vibes, soothing every itch, promising no discomfort. Spurgeon would remind us that the gospel unfurls in two colors: black (our sin in need of judgment) and white (Christ’s righteousness). Anything in between is “an unsightly gray.”
2. Mega-Churches: “Cathedrals of Comfort,” Not Conviction
Spurgeon’s Take: “I would commend to all godly people to come to a place where they can be saved from their sins, and if such a place exists, I want no part in it.”
Okay, he didn’t say that precisely—but you can hear him mumbling it under his breath as he spots stadium seating and parking for 8,000 SUVs. Spurgeon’s sermons in the 1860s attracted tens of thousands to hear him preach plain Scripture. Yet he’d bristle at modern megachurch campuses built like theme parks—coffee bars, book nooks, indoor playgrounds, “Life Application Centers.”
He once said, “Our main mistake is in trying to please men.” When you tailor every sermon to market research and sermon reviews, you’ve lost your backbone. Megachurch pastors chase “worship experiences” instead of worshiping God. Spurgeon would demand, “Where is the elect Protestant church that cries out, ‘God, make me miserable with the fear of sin’?” Not “God, make me feel comfortable so I’ll invite my neighbors.”
3. Prosperity Gospel: “Beggars Teaching Beggars to Beg”
Spurgeon’s Take: “There are no beggars like self-righteous beggars, who ask others to hold out to them a begging-bowl.”
Replace “self-righteous” with “prosperity,” and you have the modern prosperity gospel teacher. Kenneth Copeland, Benny Hinn, Joel Osteen—all politely invited to step to the back pew. In Spurgeon’s day, he ridiculed “theallegorical sermon that adorns Christ till He looks like a doll for children to play with.” Prosperity teachers do the same—adorn the gospel till it looks like a payday loan.
Spurgeon warned, “It is monstrous that wicked men should complain of the wickedness of their neighbors.” Yet prosperity preachers complain that “the devil stole your promotion,” blaming demons instead of acknowledging real consequences or sin. Our poor souls wade through “financial breakthrough” e-courses, rather than confessing the brokenness of a world groaning under sin.
4. Modern Church Trends: Worship Bands Over Worship of God
Spurgeon’s Take: “Music in religion must be simple, serious, and sanctified.”
If Spurgeon walked into your Sunday service, he’d glance at the fog machines and neon lights and ask, “Is the sermon in your playlist or in your pulpit?” He wrote, “Our psalmody is far too theatrical.” Today’s worship bands perform “setlists” with perfectly timed lighting cues, Instagram-ready stage designs, and “amazing” calls to worship. Spurgeon would snap his fingers: “This is not Christian music; this is Christian entertainment.”
He insisted, “True worship is heart work, not hand work.” No amount of “soaring bridges” or “key changes” can substitute for a contrite spirit. Yet in most “contemporary worship services,” five lives might be quietly crushed under the weight of brokenness—but you’d never know, because the smiles are curated and the videos edited.
5. Celebrity Pastors: “Sinfully Soft on Sin”
Spurgeon’s Take: “If a man preaches not Christ crucified, he is a thief.”
In the Victorian era, Spurgeon called out every quack who tacked on his own brand. Today’s church hierarchy has evolved into a celebrity industrial complex with book deals, speaker tours, and “influencer pastors.” Spurgeon would dip his quill in venom, writing anonymous letters to expose sermons that contain “not a grain of the cross.”
Spurgeon’s Bite: “When you see a church that encourages licentiousness under the cloak of mercy, shout ‘Heresy!’ from the housetops.”
Jesus said, “If you love me, you will keep my commandments” (John 14:15). Celebrity pastors, safe from accountability, often preach “love me” but not “keep my commandments.” Spurgeon would challenge them: “Preach against sin—yes, even if it costs you followers.”
6. “Relevant” Sermons: Dumbing Down Truth
Spurgeon’s Take: “Dig deep in the mines of Scripture, and bring forth new jewels for the church’s crown.”
Yet modern preachers mine social media syllables: “Church, here’s your hashtag for the week: #BlessedNotStressed.” Spurgeon would toss his hat onto the pulpit, crying, “Where is your theology? Where is the deep, plumb-line truth of Scripture?” His sermons layered exegesis upon exegesis; he studied Hebrew and Greek to sharpen every sermon.
Today, many pastors deliver thirty-minute talk shows with bullet points, free coffee at the back door, and next week’s discussion questions. Spurgeon would say, “Stop handing people nursery rhymes when they need solid meat.”
7. “Small Groups” Over the Sacred Assembly
Spurgeon’s Take: “The highest form of social worship is public worship.”
Nowadays, the megachurchs outsource discipleship to cracked — excuse me, “flourishing” — small groups. Everyone nods earnestly over casseroles, discussing “life application”; meanwhile, the main auditorium empties by 11:00 a.m. Spurgeon believed public worship was the crown jewel of Christian life—“a thing too majestic for human hearts.”
He declared, “The crown of all Gospel ordinances is the preaching of the Word.” Not breakout rooms, not “community lunches,” and certainly not midweek TED-style seminars on “Feelings 101.” If you can’t bear to preach to 200, you lack courage (and probably theology).
8. Consumer Christianity: “Church Shopping Spree”
Spurgeon’s Take: “There is no point in clearing the land of caterpillars if you unleash grasshoppers to destroy it.”
Spurgeon was famous for smashing “tame Christianity”—the kind that demands “tips for lifehack faith.” Modern believers tour churches like shoppers sampling ice cream flavors: “This one feels cozy; that one has a good coffee bar.” Spurgeon would lament that we’ve slapped labels on our faith and are more concerned with “author, date, and series” than apostolic truth.
He wrote, “Many join a church as they would join a political party, not in the fear of God, but in the fear of being left out.” In today’s “switch-and-stay” culture, people accumulate good programs and influencers instead of hearts convinced by the Holy Spirit.
9. The Hollow “Social Justice” Bandwagon
Spurgeon’s Take: “True religion is practical. If you must be charitable, begin at home.”
Spurgeon championed feeding the poor, visiting the sick, and comforting the widow—but he detested virtue-signaling. When he established orphanages, he rolled up his sleeves rather than posting pamphlets. Today’s “Christian influencers” hashtag every injustice—abortions, human trafficking, climate—then fade into the next trending cause.
Spurgeon would roar, “If social media feed your guilt without feeding the hungry, it’s worthless!” He wrote, “I never saw a hypocrite that did not want reputation more than he wanted righteousness.” Modern “justice crusaders” often pale in comparison to Spurgeon’s gritty compassion.
10. The One Thing Spurgeon Would Demand: Unapologetic Truth
Spurgeon’s Take: “I believe in preaching pure, unadulterated, unsweetened Scriptural truth.”
If anything sums up Spurgeon’s ministry, it’s that he loved God’s Word more than popularity polls. He declared, “I will know nothing among you save Jesus Christ, and Him crucified.” Imagine him today, pounding his Bible, demanding “no fewer sermons on sin, and no more sugarcoated feel-good pep talks.”
He’d call out every pastor who sells “church as therapy,” every megachurch that designs services around consumer comfort, every prosperity preacher promising fleecing God of money rather than laying down your life. He’d insist that we stop playing church and start being the church—the peculiar, countercultural, cross-bearing Bride of Christ.
Conclusion: Do You Have the Guts for Spurgeon’s Church?
So, what would Spurgeon think of the modern church? He’d be “astonished at evangelical degeneracy,” weep over our diluted gospel, and challenge us to repent. He’d love the earnest Christians in the pews but rebuke the shepherds who pamper their flocks with empty calories. He’d remind us:
“If our ministry does not bring sinners to the foot of the cross, it has missed its mark.”
In an age of megabucks and megawatt projectors, Spurgeon’s clarion call remains: “Preach Christ, reprove sin, and serve the needy.” Anything less is a carnival. Anything more is spiritual suicide.
Are you ready to ditch the haze machines and hashtag hashtags for prayer, repentance, and soul-stirring truth? Then welcome to Spurgeon’s church.
Thanks for reading.
