By Ewere Okonta
08037383019
www.ewereokontablog.org.ng
Let’s talk — heart to heart.
Some Sundays, you sit in church, Bible in hand, hope in heart, and yet you find yourself wondering: Did I mistakenly walk into a campaign rally? Or is this a TEDx event on “How to Monetize Your Anointing”? Because somewhere between the opening prayer and the benediction, something sacred is getting lost.
The pastor is decked out in Gucci loafers, stepping onto marble tiles imported from Italy, preaching “seed sowing” like it’s the latest crypto hustle. “Sow N500,000, and your destined husband will appear before next Friday!” And as wild as that sounds, people actually queue up — desperate, hopeful, and broke.
Meanwhile, the First Lady of the church (yes, that’s a title now — First Lady) is holding court on Instagram Live, teaching “How I Married a Billionaire Prophet” while showing off her 13th handbag from Dubai. You’d think she was an ambassador for Louis Vuitton, not the kingdom of God.
And when politicians visit? My dear, the atmosphere changes. Suddenly, the sermon is about “honoring kings” and “not touching the Lord’s anointed,” even when said ‘anointed’ has looted a state dry.
Let’s ask the hard question:
Is the Church still about Christ — or has it become a branch of the Ministry of Propaganda and Hustle?
When the Gospel Meets Gucci
We’ve entered an era of prosperity over principle. And let me be clear —I’m not against prosperity. God is not glorified by poverty. But when the Gospel starts sounding like a sales pitch and the altar looks more like a runway, we have to ask ourselves: Where is Jesus in all of this?
Today’s sermons often quote more from Steve Harvey than from the Sermon on the Mount. We hear more about vision boards, “vibes,” and “manifesting” than repentance, mercy, or humility. One preacher in Lagos recently posted a 6-step thread on “How to Attract Wealth Using Divine Vibration.”
Vibration, not salvation.
I mean, we now say “amen” to tweets from pastors who preach more about algorithm reach than soul salvation.
Let’s be honest:
That’s not prayer.
That’s rebranded witchcraft with Wi-Fi.
Politicians in the Pulpit, Saints in Chains
Election season in Nigeria is like revival season — but for the wrong reasons. Suddenly, every politician becomes a “believer.” You’ll see a senator who hasn’t opened his Bible in four years reading Psalm 23 from an iPad Pro. “The Lord is my shepherd, and the electorate shall not want — until after the elections.”
They show up with convoy sirens and fat envelopes, and the pastor who once preached fire and brimstone now gently lays hands on them while praying in tongues that suspiciously sounds like “Vote for Him.”
Let’s bring it home:
During the 2023 elections, how many churches prayed for fair leadership but hosted men who had been indicted for corruption?
How many pastors stood on the pulpit and gave subtle endorsements of candidates they were clearly aligned with — not because of their record, but because of what they dropped in the offering basket?
Meanwhile, Sister Nkechi has been tithing faithfully for years but can’t get assistance for her son’s school fees. Brother Emmanuel lost his job, and not one word of encouragement was offered. But let a politician show up, and suddenly the oil of “divine connection” is flowing like the River Jordan.
We say Nigeria is a religious country — but with corruption at every level.
Could it be that our religion is loud but hollow?
Family Values on Fire
Let’s bring it even closer — to the dining table.
We tell our children to pray, but they watch us bribe our way through life.
We quote “love your neighbor” in morning devotion but curse our gatekeeper because he forgot to lock the gate.
Our children are watching us.
They are learning that image is everything and integrity is optional.
Because while we’re busy posting Bible verses, they’re seeing our DMs — and it’s not scripture in there.
Today, families are under siege — not just from poverty, but from misplaced values.
Fathers are chasing side-chicks like they’re evangelizing, and mothers are competing with 20-year-old influencers on Instagram.
Children?
They’re being raised by ring lights, TikTok trends, and Gen Z drama.
No guidance. No discipline. Just “vibes” and viral videos.
We have replaced morning devotions with motivational quotes.
“Drink water and mind your business” is not Proverbs 31.
And “I’m not religious, I’m spiritual” is not an identity — it’s a crisis.
Let’s Be Real…
Here’s the uncomfortable truth:
We are all complicit.
We wanted a gospel that wouldn’t offend — so we got comedians on the altar.
We didn’t want preachers who would talk about sin — so we elevated entertainers with collars.
We craved churches that would entertain, not transform — and God gave us exactly what we wanted.
Now, what do we have?
- Churches in Lagos that charge “gate fees” for “prophetic shows.”
- Pastors who post “drip checks” with their suits from Turkey but don’t know if their church workers ate last week.
- Ministries that hold 21-day fasts but can’t fast from extortion or deceit.
Jesus didn’t endure betrayal, brutality, and crucifixion for this.
He didn’t die so we could turn His legacy into a political instrument or a fashion parade.
He came to flip tables — not to take photos with fraudsters in designer kaftans.
A Call to the Real Ones
It’s time to return to truth.
To uncomfortable sermons that confront us.
To family devotions that teach character, not clout.
To calling out sin, even when it’s trending, sponsored, or comes with an endorsement deal.
The church must stop being a choir for corrupt power and go back to being the conscience of the nation.
And you, yes, you reading this — you are the Church.
Not the cathedral. Not the bishop. YOU.
So, this Sunday, as you lift your hands and clap to that worship song, ask yourself:
“Am I clapping because I’m convicted — or because I like the beat?”
Because conviction changes lives. Vibes just trend on social media.
Selah.
Think on these things.
And maybe — just maybe —
Let the real Church stand up.
If this struck a chord (or a nerve), then good.
That was the point.
Ewere Okonta is the CEO of EOB Media. He is a family values advocate. He writes from the Department of Business Administration, University of Delta, Agbor