[#59] We Live in the Preachiest Time in History (Ugh)

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Mike Kim
November 3, 2026

I’ve sat through more than 3,000 church services.

That’s not an exaggeration. I spent my early decades immersed in church in volunteer and vocational ministry. I also grew up in a Korean church so we had services every which way: early, late, midweek, and 4am prayer services I don’t think God was awake for, but we were.

When I worked as the worship pastor of a church in Connecticut in my 30s, we had three services on Sunday, a Wednesday service, and a Friday prayer meeting. I’d occasionally go to the youth service on Sunday night too.

All this to say that I’ve probably heard almost every type of preacher there is: smart, scholarly, sweaty (tent revival type waving a hanky), funny, boring as hell, and the megachurch TED Talk type.

"You’re so preachy" has never been a compliment, especially outside the pulpit. Nobody really wants to be told how to live in their day-to-day life… or so we think.

We Live in the Preachiest Time in History

Open any social app and it’s full of preachers both human and AI, telling you how to live: When to wake up! When to sleep! What to invest in! How to bake a cake! Why cake is bad for you! How to burn wasp nests with molten aluminum (ok, that’s cool).

Everyone is a preacher or a self-help guru now and the feed force-feeds us a hundred mini-sermons before lunch.

What are we doing with all this anyway? The morning routines, the productivity systems, the breaking news, the 27 ways to write a hook? Not much, of course.

Say what you want about my old church world, but there was a saying I tried often to live by: Be a doer of the word, not a hearer only.

That world also often came with (sometimes nosy) people who would, with an assumed good intent, ask how life was going. A small group leader. A deacon. The gray-haired lady who made kick-ass ribs for the church picnic.

My social feed preaches at me all day and doesn’t ask me anything other than for me to Like, Subscribe, or opt-in.

Some Messages Close the Gap. Others Widen It on Purpose.

I admit I cannot recall more than a handful of sermons. I do recall how certain preachers made me feel, though. Some great, some horrible, and most were like commercials on TV or forgettable episodes of a sitcom that just got you through a week.

A few weeks ago, a friend asked me to go to an AI conference here in New Jersey. I knew it was going to be a pitch-fest but I went anyway. At least one upside was that Gary Vaynerchuk and Jim Kwik were going to speak (Kwik was legit terrific) and I enjoy seeing people present in person as opposed to their internet personas.

Gary said he posts something like 100 pieces of content a day across a bajillion platforms and that he’s only a speck of a speck of a speck.

I actually think he means well and wants to help people. He doesn’t own the social media networks so none of this is his fault, but the message itself reminded me of the ones I heard often in church: keep moving the bar higher and higher, and the horizon further and further out, until arriving is no longer tenable.

You are in a constant state of catching up… with what, no one knows.

None of Us Are Outpreaching the Internet, My Friend

The answer, of course, is not to go silent. A possible answer might be to be a voice that closes the gap for others.

Some people teach you something and let you go. Others teach just enough to remind you how far behind you are, because their business depends on you never quite arriving. I learned to spot the difference when I was neck-deep in the church world. I saw so much of the behind-the-scenes that I could tell whether the preacher in the pulpit truly loved the people or really just needed them.

I couldn’t vocalize this to anyone else for fear of being branded rebellious, outspoken, divisive, or the classic, having a "critical spirit." When people don’t want to see something, they get mad at the one who shows them. They kill the messenger.

I know which kind of messages changed me for the better, and which for the worse.

The messages preached at you on your phone this week: despite the words they use, and no matter how much they say they’re there to help, are they widening a gap or closing it? Can you feel the energy and heart behind them, one way or the other?

I believe there’s real legitimacy, and a real future, in being a voice that closes gaps. On Thursday, I’m hosting a live, online presentation I’ve renamed Unmistakably You.

It’s a simple Zoom link. We’re at capacity, but as sure as death and taxes, I guarantee some people will not be there, so register and join me:

Unmistakably You: The CopyProof™ Way to Publish, Persuade, and Position Yourself in the Age of AI
Thursday, November 5th
1pm ET / 12pm CT / 11am MT / 10am PT

Save your spot here »

See you Thursday?

Mike Kim

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