Here I stand at Worship in the Park, and a t-shirt catches my eye. Nothing flashy. No glitter fonts. No clever logos. Just a bold statement across the back:

“No headliner but Jesus.”

At first, I just noticed it on a few different people, the way you might notice a food truck sign at a festival without really thinking much of it. But then, as the worship team began to exhort the crowd, those words hit me. Not like a whisper, not like a suggestion, but like a hammer.

No headliner but Jesus.

It rattled me because that’s it, isn’t it? That’s the truth the church has always wrestled with. That’s the truth every believer has to face. Who’s headlining my life? Who’s headlining my ministry? Who’s headlining my hospitality, my testimony, my worship?

It took me back to something I’ve always known in the kitchen. When I was running the line, whether it was a wedding, a banquet, or a high-dollar private party, listen, the headliner wasn’t me, the chef. It wasn’t even the food. The real “headliner” was the guest of honor. The whole meal was about them. The timing, the plating, the flavor, the flow of the night, every bit of it revolved around who was being served.

I could sweat blood over the food, stack a plate with more flavor than their taste buds knew what to do with, but if I made the night about me? If I strutted into the dining room trying to soak up applause like I was the star of the show? Then I would have missed the point of hospitality altogether.

Hospitality is not about the host. It’s not about the chef. It’s not even about the meal. Hospitality, at its root, is always about the person being served.

And the same is true in the Kingdom of God.

That shirt’s words pulled my mind straight to history. The Great Awakening, that wave of revival that forever marked the world, began in New England and ended in Savannah, Georgia. It started north and flowed south like a raging river of Spirit and truth. And I couldn’t help but think, what if?

What if the church here in Savannah decided, collectively, “No headliner but Jesus”? What if we moved out of the way, our styles, our programs, our polished presentations, and put Him center stage again? Could it be that God might flip the map? That another awakening could start right here and run north, flooding this entire nation in reverse?

I believe it. I can feel it. But here’s the catch: most of the time, we don’t let Him headline.

Let’s just be honest for a minute. We, the church, are guilty. We let the worship style take the spotlight. We let the preaching personality grab the mic. We let carefully scripted church programs dictate the show.

And by doing so, we basically tell Christ:

“Step aside, Lord. We’ll handle the stage. We’ll run the program. We’ll headline our own revival.”

But here’s the problem: it doesn’t work. Because there has never been a revival in history with a man’s name at the top of the poster. Every real move of God has always been Jesus-first, Jesus-only.

And it’s not just the churches. We do this in our daily lives too. We put ourselves on the stage.

Our jobs.

Our bills.

Our anxieties.

Our dreams.

Our wounds.

Our successes?

We take all of it and slap it on the marquee like the world is here to see us. Meanwhile, the One who died for us gets shoved to the bottom of the bulletin.

No wonder we’re burned out. No wonder worship feels empty. No wonder our testimony falls flat. We’ve made ourselves the headline act, and Christ is playing the background.

But let’s circle back to that chef analogy, because this is where hospitality and discipleship collide.

Hospitality is about making space for someone else to feel seen, valued, and loved. It’s not about proving what I can cook. It’s not about flexing my creativity. It’s not about getting credit for how generous I am. It’s about creating a table where someone else encounters grace.

That’s why Peter said:

“Offer hospitality to one another without grumbling. Each of you should use whatever gift you have received to serve others, as faithful stewards of God’s grace in its various forms.”

(1 Peter 4:9-10, NIV)

Hospitality is stewarding grace. It’s me taking what God poured into me and pouring it into someone else. It’s never me showing off. It’s always Him showing up.

When we share Christ, it should be the same way. The headliner isn’t me, my wisdom, or my eloquence. It’s not my story polished up for social media. The testimony isn’t about what I’ve done, but about what Christ has done for me.

Paul nailed it when he said:

“For I resolved to know nothing while I was with you except Jesus Christ and him crucified.”

(1 Corinthians 2:2, NIV)

Nothing else. No self-promotion. No spotlight. No “look what I’ve accomplished.” Just Jesus.

When We Get It Wrong

But let’s cut deep for a second. Because if we’re honest, we’ve all gotten this wrong.

How many sermons have been preached where the preacher was the star of the show, and Jesus was an afterthought? Sadly I am sat in many churches where the same thing is done but it’s the Pastor or the Worship leader that is the focus and the star, and it’s us as a congregation that elevates them to it; or allows them to elevate themselves.

How many testimonies turned into humble-brags about how much we overcame, instead of how much Christ delivered us?

How many churches have poured more money into stage lights than into the widows, the orphans, and the broken?

We’ve dressed up the meal and forgotten the guest of honor. We’ve made the table about us instead of them.

And the Bible is full of warnings about this kind of pride. Isaiah recorded God’s words:

“I am the Lord; that is my name! I will not yield my glory to another or my praise to idols.”

(Isaiah 42:8, NIV)

God isn’t interested in sharing the headline. He never has been. He never will be.

The Hope of Stepping Aside

But here’s the good news: the moment we step aside, everything changes.

When we let Christ headline, His power flows. When we let Him take the stage, revival follows. When we use hospitality not to impress but to bless, people encounter God’s grace.

Jesus told His disciples:

“You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden… let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.”

(Matthew 5:14, 16, NIV)

Notice that last part: so they glorify your Father in heaven. Not so they glorify you. Not so they glorify your ministry. Not so they glorify your cooking, your speaking, your generosity. The headliner is God.

And when He gets the glory, something miraculous happens: lives are changed.

We have Revival at the Table.

Imagine what would happen if we practiced this in real time.

If our meals weren’t about impressing guests with our cooking, but about creating space for them to feel Christ’s love.

If our testimonies weren’t about highlighting our grit, but His grace.

If our churches stopped competing with each other and started collectively saying: “No headliner but Jesus.”

Revival wouldn’t just be a word we pray for, it would be a reality we walk in.

Hospitality would become evangelism. Testimonies would become gospel proclamations. Worship would become unstoppable fire that would spread across his Body and then the country.

Because when Jesus is the only Headliner, revival isn’t just possible, it’s inevitable.

So here’s my prayer, for me, for you, for the church:

Lord, let us stop auditioning for a spotlight that doesn’t belong to us. Let us step off the stage and point the crowd to You. Let us practice hospitality that makes space for Your Spirit, not for our egos. Let our testimonies lift Your name higher than our own. Let our lives scream the truth: No headliner but Jesus.

And I’ll tell you this, if we actually take that to heart, it’ll change everything. Our families. Our churches. Our cities. Maybe even our nation.

Because when Jesus is the only Headliner, revival will come.

Stay salty