I’ve been asking myself something lately that I think many of us have quietly wondered, especially as of late, but haven’t dared to voice out loud:
Why are the prophets of the Bible so different from the ones we see today?
Why is it that when I open my Bible and read about Isaiah, Jeremiah, Ezekiel, or even someone like Agabus in the book of Acts, I see men who carried the weight of God’s word like it could break them in half, while today’s prophets seem more obsessed with our “hands” rather than our hearts?
Let me say this plainly. I’m not trying to bash anyone. I’m not out here pointing fingers without looking in the mirror, too. I’ve been guilty of chasing a “word” more than seeking The Word. I’ve craved comfort over conviction. I’ve listened to so-called prophetic voices that told me what I wanted to hear rather than what I needed to hear, and it’s only by the mercy of God that I’ve started to wake up. But now, like many of you, I am being awakened, and I have to say something. “The prophets in Scripture didn’t play games.” They didn’t live to perform. They didn’t scratch itching ears or craft cute soundbites to go viral on social media. They spoke what God said, even when it cost them everything.
You want to know what biblical prophets sounded like?
“Repent.” “Return.” “Tear down your idols.” “You’ve broken covenant.” “Judgment is coming.” “But mercy still stands, if you’ll turn back now.”
The thing is, they weren’t angry ranters. They were brokenhearted men who wept more than they preached. They didn’t prophesy from platforms; they spoke from caves, from prison cells, from the wilderness. They didn’t wear designer robes. Some wore sackcloth. Some were barely clothed at all. Some lay on their sides for a year. Some were stoned, sawn in two, imprisoned, rejected. Some were hated by the very people they were trying to save.
Now, let’s contrast that with what we see today. Prophetic voices obsessed with your “next level,” your “kingdom assignment,” your “supernatural promotion.” It’s all about being seen, being elevated, being blessed. Almost never about being broken before the Lord.
Where is the fear of the Lord? Where are the tears for a backslidden Church? Where are the voices that call sin sin, not “areas of struggle”? Where are the ones crying out, “The burden of the Lord!” rather than cashing in on book deals, conferences, and pay-to-prophesy Zoom calls?
Saints, I say this as a man who’s been seduced by smooth words before. I know what it’s like to chase a prophetic word like a drug. I know what it’s like to confuse goosebumps with God’s voice. I’ve called emotional highs “anointing” when there was no power for real transformation. “But I’m done pretending.” If what we call “prophetic” is not producing repentance, holiness, fear of the Lord, and awe for Jesus, then what spirit is it operating under? Have we even stopped to test it, or are we so enamored by the charisma and the aesthetic that we don’t even try to discern anymore?
Scripture warns us that God will permit lying spirits to operate among people who don’t love the truth. That’s not a conspiracy theory, that’s 1 Kings 22. That’s Ezekiel 13. That’s Jeremiah 23. That’s the terrifying reality that sometimes God lets people be deceived because they’re dead set on rejecting the real thing, and let’s be honest, many in the modern church probably wouldn’t even recognize a real prophet if he walked into our Sunday service. We would label him “critical,” “judgmental,” or “not walking in love” because he didn’t give us a nice word about our destiny. Meanwhile, the biblical prophets would probably flip some of our pulpits and call half of what we do idolatry. God help us!
Beloved, there is still hope. Always. Because God is still raising up many unknown voices in the wilderness. They are just not famous. Not flashy. They probably don’t even have a social media following but they’ve been with God in the secret place. They’ve wept over the condition of the Church, fasted when no one saw, trembled at His Word and they burn with holy fire, not ambition.
I’m asking the Lord to make me and those of you on this same path one of those. Not for status or applause, but because I don’t want to speak unless He speaks. I want to carry the weight of His voice, not the echo of culture. I want to love the truth more than comfort, more than a platform, more than success. I want to fear God again, and maybe you do too.
If this is you as well, let’s repent. Let’s return. Let’s stop chasing prophetic hype and start seeking the God who still speaks through humble, broken, trembling vessels. Let’s weigh every word. Let’s test the spirits. Let’s ask: Does this word produce repentance? Does it lead me to holiness? Does it draw me closer to Jesus or just deeper into myself?
Family, the prophets in Scripture weren’t celebrities. They were servants, and I believe God is still looking for those who will say, “Here am I. Send me.” Not to make a name, but to make Him known.
Let’s be those voices.
Let’s stop playing.
The hour is too late.
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