This is why your typical pew-sitter: tired dad, stressed mom, skeptical twenty-year-old, guy who hasn’t cracked a Bible since the Bush administration, will sit there and listen to him. Gladly. And unlike some pulpits in Jacksonville, they’ll come back without needing a guilt-driven donor letter to remind them.
But here’s the theory I want to put on the table: Joby is this good because he spends an insane number of hours actually talking to people, out loud, every single week.
The man is a communication factory.
He’s got Deepen, his main podcast: deep dives, personal stories, Bible, culture, philosophy, you name it, all conversational style with at least two other people in on the conversation. Then there’s Built for More, another long-form conversational platform. Then all the outside podcasts, guest appearances, panels, interviews, and discussions he drops into. Add it up, and this guy may legitimately log tens of hours of spoken content every week.
But it’s not just the volume of Joby’s communication, it’s the quality of it. Because when you talk that much, about real things, with real people, you get good at sounding, well, real. When Joby gets to the pulpit, he isn’t “presenting a sermon.” He’s stepping into a conversation he’s already processed twenty different ways during the week. It comes across natural, conversational, lived-in. He applies Scripture to life because he’s already been talking about life non-stop.
And here’s where his recent comment on his podcast comes in, a comment that exposes the whole paradigm:
Joby says his leadership style is to lead with hope and faith.
He contrasted it with other leaders who may be competent, but who lead out of fear, anxiety, and panic over what might happen to their ministries.
Let’s pause on that.
If you’ve spent any time in Baptist-land, you know exactly the type he’s describing. The leader who treats every budget shortfall like an existential crisis. The leader whose sermon volume (as in decibels) goes up as giving goes down. The leader who thinks the sheep exist for the shepherd, not the other way around. The leader who can’t preach a passage without somehow steering it toward your wallet.
Joby? He’s not operating out of fear. He’s not sweating about losing control of the church. He’s not waking up in the night in a cold sweat about whether the people will love him enough to tithe. The man genuinely believes, and it shows. He leads with hope, faith, and yes, love. And preaching that flows from actual hope and actual love connects in a way fear-based leadership never will.
I’ve said it before on this blog: people can smell authenticity a mile away. They can smell performance just as quickly. With Joby, you get the unmistakable sense that he cares. That he’s trying to help, not manage. That he’s talking to people, not at them. That he’s not burdened by insecurity, which is why he doesn’t need to burden you with guilt.
That’s the secret.
Not production value. Not brand strategy. Not theological gymnastics. He doesn't stare you down, jerk off his glasses (ok he doesn't wear glasses), nor will he amen himself if he doesn't get crowd feedback.
Just a preacher who talks like a human being because he’s spent thousands of hours talking to human beings. A preacher who leads with faith and hope instead of fear and manipulation. A preacher who treats his listeners like actual people rather than revenue streams.
If other pastors want to know why their sermons aren’t landing, maybe they should stop huddling around spreadsheets, step away from the tithing passages, and start talking to people again. Or better yet, start leading with hope instead of panic.
It seems to be working pretty well for Joby and his church.
