Some Tough Talk About Sentimentalism

The Church is not called to be a hospice for sin, but a hospital for sinners. And yet, somewhere along the way, we confused the two.

Modern Christianity has embraced a cheap version of compassion, a sentimentalism that feels holy but fears confrontation. We cry over the brokenness, but we refuse to call it rebellion. We offer hugs where there should be warnings, and coddle what God commands us to confront.

This isn't mercy. It's malpractice.

We live in an age where empathy has become a theology. And like all false gods, it demands sacrifices. Truth. Clarity. Courage. All laid on the altar of "being nice."

But biblical compassion is not passive. It doesn't stand silently while sin destroys a soul. It doesn't affirm what God condemns. Real love tells the truth, even when it hurts. Especially when it hurts.

"Faithful are the wounds of a friend; profuse are the kisses of an enemy." — Proverbs 27:6

Jesus never once confused compassion with compromise. He wept over Jerusalem, but He also warned it. He welcomed sinners, but He never affirmed their sin. His mercy was always married to His majesty. His grace always arrived with gravity.

But too many churches today have turned sympathy into a strategy. Instead of equipping saints, we entertain seekers. Instead of contending for the faith, we curate safe spaces. We treat hard truths like optional extras, and wonder why our people are spiritually starved.

This isn't just weak leadership, it's spiritual sabotage.

This is the age where churches host drag queens in the name of inclusion and call it outreach. Where pastors refuse to name sin but brag about how “safe” their church feels. Where brokenness is platformed, but repentance is buried. Sentimentality has become a smokescreen for cowardice, and too many pulpits are complicit.

True compassion doesn't avoid the wound. It applies the Word. It doesn't just sit with people in their sorrow; it lifts their eyes to the Savior. Anything less is sentimentality disguised as sanctification.

We cannot love our neighbor while lying to him about what God has said. We cannot claim to be merciful if we refuse to warn. And we dare not call it grace when we lack the guts to tell the truth.

"It is not harsh to speak plainly about sin. It is cruel to pretend people are fine when they are walking toward judgment."

The time for soft words and shallow comfort is over. The culture is catechizing the Church. The spirit of the age is sentimental, not sanctified. And the only antidote is truth in love, not love without truth.

We need pastors who bleed conviction. Churches that love enough to confront. Saints who believe that truth still saves, even when it stings.

Compassion is not cowardice. But neither is it compliance. If it is not rooted in conviction, it is not Christlike.

Let the Church rise with tenderness in tone, but steel in her spine. Let us remember that Jesus didn’t die to make people feel better; He died to make them new.

If your Gospel can’t offend, it can’t save. If your church coddles sin more than it confronts it, it’s not a church—it’s a hospice for souls already dying. The world doesn’t need another emotional support sermon. It needs fire in the pulpit and truth in the pews. Sentimental Christianity is a silent killer. It’s time to call it what it is, and preach like souls depend on it. Because they do.

 

by Virgil Walker, a Christian commentator, writer, and podcaster on cultural topics
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