Moments of entertainment can pass the time, but they rarely change us. If you’ve spent time scrolling through social media, you know the feeling—there’s always more content to watch, yet it never fully satisfies. In many ways, the Church has thrown its hat into the same content race. And while there’s been some good from it, when we prioritize content over community, we end up with activity but little connection.
Have we become so focused on being seen that we’ve lost sight of what truly matters? Trends can draw attention and increase engagement, but do they help us form disciples? If not, perhaps our pursuit of relevance has quietly robbed us the depth that actually forms us.
The Church has always offered what the world cannot give. In every age, when she is healthy, she has been a place where weary souls discover what they truly long for: communion with God and with one another.
Clickbait culture creates moments; consistency creates maturity.
Long before algorithms and viral trends, Benedict of Nursia faced a world just as chaotic as ours. After the collapse of Rome, people scrambled for anything urgent, anything that promised survival. Benedict’s answer wasn’t flash or hype—it was consistency. His Rule of Life built communities that thrived for centuries not because they were trendy, but because they were rooted.
Benedict understood something we often forget: even when storms rage around us, the ways of God remain steady—consistent, communal, unchanging. We don’t mirror the chaos of the outside world; we root ourselves in the rhythms of an unchanging God. I picture Jesus asleep in the boat while the storm rattled the disciples’ faith. His calm is the model of divine steadiness in human storms.
The antidote to chaos is never chaos.
If chaos isn’t the antidote, then what is? Benedict’s wisdom points us to rhythms that don’t depend on hype but on habit. Prayer at set times. Meals shared in community. Hospitality extended to the stranger. These simple, steady practices don’t grab headlines, but over time they form people into the likeness of Christ.
And it’s formed people that transform communities. And that’s always been God’s way, Jesus didn’t build His Church on hype, either. Over three years He formed disciples day by day, through shared life and steady teaching. Yes, He worked miracles, but it was those formed disciples who carried the gospel across the ancient world.
Day by day discipleship isn’t about flash, it's about faithfulness. And that’s what sustains a soul and strengthens a community. And for all the christian leaders, and pastors, and fathers out there…you’ll want to have that spiritual strength and Christ centered foundation before the crushing season arrives. I suspect, the lack of genuine spiritual depth and strength is what leads to much of the burnout and brokenness that has pervaded our christian leaders today.
Isaiah 53:5
But he was pierced because of our rebellion,
crushed because of our iniquities;
punishment for our peace was on him,
and we are healed by his wounds.
Carrying your cross is a paradoxical experience. Sometimes it feels weightless, as if the Spirit of God is so present that all you sense around you is blessing. Jesus is your portion, and you are content. Other times it feels crushing, and like Isaiah 53 reminds us, in those moments we share in Christ’s suffering in this world. It’s in those seasons that you discover whether your rhythms have formed you into the kind of person who is refined by pressure rather than defined by it.
Benedict knew this tension well. He wasn’t trying to build viral moments; he was trying to form resilient disciples who could weather storms, endure pressure, and live faithfully together. His Rule gave ordinary believers rhythms of prayer, work, and community that refined them in the fire rather than letting them be defined by it. That same wisdom is available to us today. In a world that glorifies hype, Benedict reminds us that holiness is built in the ordinary—day by day, season by season.
Has chasing trends made the Church forget who she was? Maybe. But we don’t have to stay there. The beauty of the gospel is that God often does His greatest work not in the spectacular, but in the steady. Not in the clickbait, but in the consistency.
There is beauty in the ordinary. Mundane rhythms can lead to miraculous outcomes. Some of the sweetest moments with my wife aren’t found in grand adventures but in sitting together on the same couch we’ve sat on a thousand times. My daughter asking me to pick her up and tuck her in—just like she did last night, and the night before that—is quietly forming a beautiful relationship.
This is the way of God. When we remain faithful in the ordinary, He brings about the extraordinary.