The Fake Pillar

A warning to fellow Christians

Story time: In the summer of 2025, I ran into a friend who was frustrated with their church. They had recently left, and as we talked, I could tell there was still a lot of hurt beneath the surface. At one point in the conversation, they said something that has stayed with me ever since:

“That place will fall apart without me.”

I remember thinking about those words long after the conversation ended. Not because I believed they were true, but because they revealed something dangerous that can happen in the heart of any believer.

Most Christians will never say those words out loud.

But many of us know the temptation behind them.

We want to be useful. There is a desire for our service to matter. We want to make a difference in our church. None of those desires are wrong. In fact, they can be good and godly motivations (see Ephesians 2:10; 1 Peter 4:10). The danger comes when usefulness slowly turns into a sense of indispensability. We begin to believe that God’s work depends on us more than it actually does.

Through that conversation and several others, my son Cameron helped me think through the idea of what he called a “fake pillar.” Cameron didn’t just name the concept; he gave me the image I couldn’t shake. The title of this post is his.

A fake pillar looks supportive, but it is not actually carrying the weight of the structure. It appears important, but it is not what the building rests upon. In the same way, a fake pillar in ministry is someone who begins taking credit for what only Christ can sustain. They mistake usefulness for indispensability.

My friend is not the point of this writing. It would be easy to read their story and think about “someone else.” The better question is this: Could I become that person?

Could I begin believing that a ministry cannot succeed without me? Could I become threatened when someone else takes over a role I once held? Is it possible that I have quietly assumed that God’s work rises or falls based on my contribution?

Those are uncomfortable questions, but they are worth asking.

As followers of Christ, we should regularly examine whether we are building our identity on a fake pillar or a real one. To help us do that, consider these four questions:

Who is the church built on? Who are we talking about? What has lasting power? And to whose glory is this being done?

1. Who is the church built on?

The fake pillar mentality begins when we forget who is actually carrying the weight.

Most of us would never say, “The church cannot survive without me.” Yet our actions sometimes reveal that we believe it. We become convinced that a ministry depends on our leadership, our ideas, our creativity, our presence, or our abilities. We begin to see ourselves as load-bearing walls rather than servants within the house.

But Scripture leaves no room for that kind of thinking.

In Matthew 7:24-27, Jesus describes the wise man who built his house upon the rock. When the storms came, the house stood because of its foundation. The strength of the structure is not found in the skill of the builder or the person residing inside, but in the foundation upon which it rests.

The same is true of the church.

Churches are not sustained by gifted pastors, influential members, successful programs, or long-standing traditions. They are sustained by Christ. He is the cornerstone. He is the head of the church. Jesus is the one who promised, “I will build my church” (Matthew 16:18).

Anything not built upon Christ is ultimately built upon sand.

That truth should both humble and encourage us. It humbles us because we are not as indispensable as we sometimes imagine. It encourages us because the future of Christ’s church does not rest on our shoulders.

A fake pillar quietly believes, “This ministry stands because of me.”

A faithful servant says, “This ministry stands because of Christ.”

2. Who are we talking about?

The fake-pillar mentality also reveals itself in the way we speak about the church.

When hurt, disappointment, or frustration enters the picture, it becomes easy to speak carelessly. We can begin treating the church as an organization, a brand, or an institution that failed to meet our expectations. We talk about “that church” as if it were merely a building or a collection of programs.

But Scripture reminds us that the church is something much more precious.

Again and again, God describes the church as the Bride of Christ (Ephesians 5:25-27; 2 Corinthians 11:2; Revelation 19:7-9; Revelation 21:2). Christ loved His bride enough to give Himself for her. He purchased her with His own blood.

That does not mean churches are perfect. Every local church has flaws because every local church is filled with sinners being sanctified by grace. Problems must sometimes be addressed. They must confront sin. Difficult conversations are occasionally necessary.

Yet even when flaws are seen, and correction is needed, we should remember who we are talking about. We are talking about people Christ died to save.

The church we are talking about, brothers and sisters, for whom Jesus shed His blood. We are talking about Christ’s bride.

The fake-pillar mentality often forgets this reality. They become more concerned with protecting personal reputation than guarding the unity and health of Christ’s people.

A faithful servant remembers that even imperfect churches belong to a perfect Savior.

3. What has lasting power?

The fake pillar wants to build something that bears their name.

There is a desire deep within the human heart to leave a mark. We want people to remember what we built, what we accomplished, and what we achieved. Ministry can become another avenue for that pursuit if we are not careful.

King Nebuchadnezzar serves as a sobering example. In Daniel 4, he looked over the kingdom he had built and declared, “Is not this great Babylon, which I have built by my mighty power and for the glory of my majesty?” In that moment, he forgot that every authority, opportunity, and accomplishment ultimately came from God.

The Lord quickly reminded him.

His kingdom seemed permanent, but it was not. Like every earthly kingdom before it and after it, it would eventually pass to another.

The same principle applies to ministry. If a church program cannot survive without us, something is wrong. If a ministry collapses the moment one person leaves, it was probably resting on a shaky foundation (see point 1).

In fact, a healthy ministry should outlive us, and what that looks like for the next generation is worth its own conversation.

Our goal should never be to create monuments to ourselves. Our goal should be to build ministries so centered on Christ that they continue bearing fruit long after we are gone.

The fake pillar asks, “Will people remember what I built?”

A faithful servant asks, “Will Christ continue to be glorified when I am no longer here?”

4. To whose glory is this being done?

At its core, the fake pillar problem is a glory problem, and we all may be guilty of it.

Someone may begin with good intentions. They want to serve. Or they may want to help. They could work and be faithful. Yet somewhere along the way, the focus can subtly shift. Instead of asking what will bring glory to Christ, a person seeking glory will begin wondering whether others notice what we have done.

Then they start asking, “Did anyone see the hours I invested? Did anyone recognize the sacrifices I made? Do people understand how much this ministry depended on me?”

That line of thinking and those questions reveal a dangerous temptation. A fake pillar begins seeking the praise that belongs to God alone.

The fake pillar wants to be seen. They want credit and vindication. And possibly, secretly, enjoys the thought that their absence might prove how important they were all along.

But when that attitude surfaces, the Christian response should be the same kind of response Paul gives elsewhere in Romans: “By no means!” (Romans 6:2) Or, as many of us learned growing up: “God forbid!”

God forbid that we would serve Christ’s church for our own glory. God forbid that we would measure success by how much recognition we receive. Or that we would ever find satisfaction in seeing a church struggle simply because we are no longer part of it.

Every ministry opportunity we have is a gift from God. Every ability, every opportunity, every success, and every spiritual fruit ultimately belongs to Him. As Paul reminds us elsewhere, “What do you have that you did not receive?” (1 Corinthians 4:7).

The goal of ministry is not to make much of ourselves. Rather, the goal of ministry is to make much of Christ.

A fake pillar asks, “Do people see what I have done?”

A faithful servant asks, “Do people see Jesus?”

Conclusion:

The danger of a fake pillar is not that they openly reject Christ. The danger is that they quietly begin sharing the place Christ alone deserves.

The reality is that every one of us will eventually leave our current place of service. Some will move away. A few will age out of certain ministries. Some will answer a call elsewhere. And one day, all of us will step into eternity.

When that day comes, Christ’s church will still belong to Christ. His gospel will still save sinners. His Word will still accomplish His purposes. Christ’s kingdom will continue advancing exactly as He has promised.

That truth should not discourage us. It should fill us with joy.

We should consider it a privilege to participate in something that does not depend on us.

So perhaps the prayer of a mature Christian sounds something like this:

Lord, thank You for allowing me to serve. Thank You for every opportunity You have given me to labor alongside Your people.

Please help me to never confuse my role with Your authority, my efforts with Your power, or my usefulness with Your lordship.

May Your church thrive long after I am gone. May future generations love You more than my generation did. May the gospel continue to be preached faithfully. May sinners continue to be saved. May believers continue to be discipled.

And with or without me, may people see the wonderful works of Jesus, and may they come believing.

For Yours is the glory, not mine.

Amen.

A fake pillar may mistake usefulness for indispensability, and hopes people remember how much they needed them.

A mature Christian rejoices that Christ never needed us at all.