If the first and last letters of this title are substituted, it can pass for any of the ubiquitous catchy slogans commercial concerns daily inundate us with. Like, MTN is giving away 1000 Blackberries! 1000 free drinks in the Coca-Cola “scratch & win” promo! Incidentally, this is not your usual advert strategy intent on bigger market share. This was actually the screaming caption on a church bill obviously targeting the husbandless. The church in question is located on the roof space of a nearly- and haphazardly-completed 3-storey building adjacent to Grand Square along Mohammadu Buhari Way in Abuja’s Central Business District.

I had reason to be in that church on Sunday January 30, 2011, when a good, old friend finally found enough reason to “jump the broom”. From the point of view of ergonomics and the economics of longevity, that’s not a place I’d wish to return to anytime soon. I would be the least surprised if people routinely pass out during the usually energy-sapping, high decibel-generating church sessions. Ventilation is one of the few privileges in very short supply there. To exacerbate an already testy scenario, the head pastor—or more appropriately—the chief operating officer prefers the equipments to operate at near one hundred percent installed capacity. If he understands the laws of thermodynamics, it’s obvious he harbours scant respect for them. Vibrant and voluble, he embodies the quintessential salesman. Were he to consider a career in marketing, he’ll be undeniably world-class. And with a pretty missus to boot, he’d give the likes of David Beckham a run for their money.

To show my goodwill, I’ll call him Senior Pastor; among other titles I’m sure he parades. If recollection serves, he hails from somewhere in Nigeria’s north-eastern flank. I have a hunch he holds a PhD in Pneumatology and Numerology. The first specialty is what distinguishes all dyed-in-the-wool Charismatics and Pentecostals. It’s what makes them loud and proud. I’m one of them, so I should know. The second is the truly exotic one; and I suspect, the Senior Pastor’s stronghold. And I also think he has a thing for the number 1000.

In my January 30th encounter, that number showed up during the mandatory offertory which the Numerologist himself supervised. After exhorting the congregants to give bountifully and cheerfully, he then introduced a cheeky innovation. Those who wished to contact ‘special blessings’ transmitted through a handshake with him could do so armed with a minimum N1000 offering! Since I hadn’t N1000 to part with or desire for a pastoral handshake, I elected to observe this classical case of ecclesiastical apartheid from my sweat-soaked perch. With a few more ingenious fund-capturing gimmicks thrown into the bargain, and nearly an hour later, the fund-raiser was at least N2 million to the good! Talk about the blessings of God making rich! Little wonder sorrow is alien to these anointed servants of the Most High.

I had put this N1000 episode conveniently behind me until this 1000 husbands issue pops up. Then it suddenly occurred to me that it’ll amount to dereliction of duty—nay, sin—if I kept mute. “Every desirable and beneficial gift comes out of heaven”, says the Holy Book. Husbands, wives, children, goodly houses, well-paying jobs, lucrative contracts are certainly desirable and beneficial; and I have no doubt God gives them. But if it is only for these and other temporal blessings we flock to his presence, we should be pitied above all men. We’re no better than a political party, a labour union or a secret cult. The Church is primarily a spiritual entity: mandated to offer God’s spiritual graces to a world sinking in the murky mire of materialism and hedonism. Her servants should ordinarily be in the forefront of promoting the much sought-after virtues of love, joy, peace, patience, contentment, chastity, self-control, gentleness, meekness, and the like. In a situation where the top echelon of the Church leadership; especially those of the Pentecostal persuasion, also double as apostles of crass materialism and conspicuous consumption, someone has to raise the alarm. In a poverty-drenched situation like Nigeria, it is not hard to imagine why this brand of gospel is gaining currency.

What makes this scenario even more unsettling is the Ponzi-style tactics freely employed. When ‘God’ is offering 1000 husbands or Blackberries in a city like Abuja, be sure it’ll be oversubscribed. And that’s precisely when those wooly terms and conditions start to be applied. The concept of ‘seed faith’ is always a clincher any day. The distraught and desperate ladies are goaded into parting with princely sums of money as a way of ‘provoking’ God; much like a gaming machine. And that is usually the climax of the gig. From here, it’s all smiles and grins to the vault!

A few years ago, a preacher arrived from the eastern flank of Africa. Verbose to a fault, he worked the congregation to a frenzied climax, and then swooped on the husbandless. He expertly maneuvered them into giving various sums to secure their desired husbands. In this case, the ‘best’ husbands would end up with the ‘highest’ donors! I knew a lady who parted with a sum in excess of N20, 000. At the time, that was hefty. Long after the preacher had zapped back to his country, no suitor showed up; not even the N1000-cadre! Frustrated and disappointed, she left for another church, probably to be duped once more.

Many men and women have been duped in this manner, but most will never confess, either because they’re afraid of incurring the wrath of God, or they’re ashamed of having been so gullible. This trend has become so rampant it is gnawing away at the moral substructure of the Church. Suddenly, the spiritual and moral credentials of Christians are increasingly being called to question. Sodomy, once an anathema, is gradually beginning to taint the testimony of many a clergy. Gradually, we are losing our ability to be effective guides to a progressively directionless world. I have no doubt that the undue emphasis on the material is part of what has brought us to this pretty pass. There’s no better time to repent and make amends than now.

I have nothing personally against the Senior Pastor. If anything, I admire his courage and focus. And he’s not conceited. I deeply appreciate men who recognize their limitations. He has been able to inspire a crop of dedicated and talented men and women to join him in discharging his onerous mandate. This is commendable, and I have no doubt that, deep down, he means well. What I obviously have a problem with are the means and methods he employs. In the kingdom of God, the end does not justify the means. If the end is noble, so must the means. We cannot employ carnal means towards spiritual ends.

There’s no one with a modicum of conscience still ticking away inside that won’t be alarmed by the very precarious global situation. But most especially here in Nigeria. Political uncertainty, unnerving insecurity, massive unemployment and underemployment, collapse of moral values, are but a few of the challenges that confront us. You have to be truly dead not to be affected by the legion of goodly and godly men and women who cannot marry because the means to do so continue to elude them. Or those who fast because they lack the wherewithal to feast. And those who pray because they lack the energy to play.

Jesus encountered such situations severally during his earthly ministry. On one such occasion, he miraculously fed at least 5,000. The very next day, a larger crowd turned up to eat. But he didn’t feed them: he knew their real needs went beyond food. If Jesus had succumbed to their pitiful looks and given them what they craved, this whole gospel business would have fizzled out in a bazaar!

That the gospel has survived and thrived is because Jesus and the inheritors of his estate have kept the important issues clearly in view. Every genuine messenger, like the Senior Pastor, knows what these issues are. Of this, I’m most certain.

OLUGU OLUGU ORJI mnia
nnanta2012@gmail.com
oluguorji.