I want to be clear about this post and many of the others I post regarding the church here in the West. Yes, I am not only pointing out various issues but also solutions of which I am taking part of currently. Please understand this is not an attack on the church. I love the church, because she is the bride of Christ, and I am part of her. But because I love her, I cannot ignore what Scripture says. Jesus Himself warned His people to stay awake and be ready. The apostles urged the church to live in constant expectation of His appearing. My words are not meant to tear down, but to call us back to the hope and urgency that should shape everything we do as His people.”
One of the most startling realities about the modern church, especially in the West, is how rarely we hear about the return of Jesus Christ. Week after week, countless pulpits speak on encouragement, on handling life’s challenges, on family, self-help, and even occasionally on justice. These are good and necessary things, yet too often they overshadow the truth that gives all of them their meaning: history is moving toward a single, unavoidable moment, “the King is coming back.”
For the early church, the return of Christ was not an extra belief they tucked away in the back of their minds. It was their heartbeat. It shaped how they prayed, how they endured suffering, and how they held onto hope when the world around them was hostile. At the end of their gatherings, they would use a word we hardly say today, Maranatha. It means, “Our Lord, come!” That was not just a wish; it was the cry of people who believed that history was heading toward one climactic moment when the skies would be torn open, the trumpet would sound, and Christ would appear in glory.
This is why Paul called it “the blessed hope” (Titus 2:13). It was not just theology. It was fuel. The early Christians were a small, marginalized group living under the shadow of the Roman Empire. They faced hostility, rejection, and persecution unto death. They had no political power, no cultural influence, no promise of security, and yet, they had something far more powerful: the certainty that Jesus had risen from the dead and that He would return to set all things right.
Now, compare that with much of the modern Western church. We don’t think much about His return, generally speaking. We build our lives as though tomorrow will always be the same as today. We chase careers, wealth, health, and comfort. We get wrapped up in endless political and theological debates, trying to secure our place in a world that is already passing away. We fill our lives with entertainment, with distraction, with comfort, leisure, and we rarely pause to consider that in one moment, Christ could appear.
Jesus warned against this very thing. He said that His return would be like the days of Noah, people eating, drinking, marrying, and carrying on with life, unaware until the flood came (Matthew 24:37–39). He said it would come like a thief in the night, sudden, unexpected, and impossible to reschedule (1 Thessalonians 5:2). He told His followers to stay awake, to keep their lamps burning, and to live ready, because the Son of Man would come at an hour they did not expect (Matthew 25:1–13).
Yet, what do we see around us today? We see wars breaking out across the globe, in Ukraine, Russia, Africa, and the Middle East. Israel and Jerusalem are constantly in the headlines, which is no accident since the prophets foretold that the city would be a focal point at the end of the age. We see moral collapse every day in the West, where even the basics of human identity and family are questioned. Not to mention assassinations, senseless murders. We see economies shaking, leaders falling, and trust in institutions crumbling. We see Christians being persecuted in places like Africa, India, North Korea, China, and much of the Middle East, while here in the West, we often coast in comfort, worried more about being relevant, being influencers with a platform, than about being faithful.
The early church looked at the instability of their world, and it drove them to cry out for Christ’s return. We look at the instability of our world, and too often it drives us to fear, distraction, or numbing ourselves with entertainment. The problem is not that Christ has delayed; it is that we have grown dull.
We need to recognize the danger of our comfort. When everything feels relatively stable, it’s easy to forget that the Bible never promises the world will stay that way. The truth is that we are fragile, our systems are fragile, and our culture is fragile. The Bible warns that the day of the Lord will shake everything that can be shaken so that only what is eternal remains (Hebrews 12:26–27). If our lives are built on comfort, politics, or possessions, we will be swept away when the shaking comes. But if our lives are built on Christ and His kingdom, we will endure.
The truth is, ignoring His return does not make it any less real. It only makes us less prepared. The early believers understood this. They saw themselves as strangers and pilgrims, not at home in this present world, but longing for the kingdom to come (Hebrews 11:13–16). Their hope was not in Rome, not in politics, not in wealth, but in the King who promised to return, and that’s the hope we need to recover today. Because whether we are ready or not, the King is coming.
The early church cried out with one voice: Maranatha, Come, Lord Jesus! That cry was not empty; it was their heartbeat, their lifeline, their daily posture. Somewhere along the way, much of that cry has gone quiet in the church today. But the King has not forgotten His promise. He is still coming, and the only question is whether we will be awake when He does.
The Scriptures warn that everything that can be shaken will be shaken, until only what is eternal remains. We are already watching that shaking unfold in our world, wars, moral collapse, persecution, and the crumbling of foundations we once thought unshakable. The comforts we lean on will not last. The distractions that lull us to sleep will be swept away, and only Christ and His kingdom will stand.
The church is not called to drift through history asleep. She is called to live as a bride preparing for her Bridegroom. That day is drawing near. The early believers longed for it. The prophets warned of it, and every sunrise brings us closer to it.
*In Part Two, we’ll explore what the return of Christ truly means for the unseen powers that still resist Him, for the nations that rage against His rule, and for us as His people who are called to live holy, ready, and expectant for the King who even now is at the gates.*
Here are some questions for us to ponder and or dialogue with:
1. If the early church lived every day expecting Christ’s return, what would change in your own life if you carried that same expectation tomorrow morning?
2. When you look at today’s world, the wars, the uncertainty, the moral collapse, do you see them as random events or as reminders that this world is not our final home?
3. What might it look like for us, as the church in this generation, to recover the cry of Maranatha Come, Lord Jesus, in the way we pray, live, and hope?
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