Is Our Relationship With God Becoming Too Transactional? My Honest Thoughts
Today’s gist is not our regular gist. I have been pondering on something deeply and decided to put my thoughts on paper. It may not sit well with everybody, but abeg, hear me out first.
There is nothing wrong with praying for financial breakthroughs, children, good health or a better life. God cares about our needs. But is that all our faith is about?
Solomon was wealthy before Jesus came. Hannah prayed for a child and gave birth to Samuel long before Jesus was born. The Israelites faced hardship and oppression too. These things existed before Christ. So why do some sermons make it seem as though His death and resurrection were mainly about securing material blessings?
I sometimes wonder what we would preach to a wealthy Christian like Femi Otedola. If someone already has money, good health and a loving family, does the gospel have nothing else to offer them?
Surely, our relationship with God must be deeper than what we hope to get from Him.
I once joked with my sister that if I lived abroad, I might not attend church as frequently as I do here. Before you judge me, hear me out. Many things Nigerians pray fervently for are things functioning systems, good governance and basic infrastructure could make less stressful.
Imagine not worrying constantly about electricity, security or access to healthcare.
Would we still pray? Of course. Prayer is also gratitude, worship and fellowship. But our environment definitely shapes the things we pray for and the messages we hear.
When sermons focus almost entirely on financial breakthroughs, I sometimes tune out. I have heard the message so often that I can predict the next sentence.
When did our relationship with God become so transactional?
I understand that churches need funds to operate. My concern is not with giving, but with making people feel their blessings depend on how much they give. Giving should come from the heart, not fear or pressure.
Then there is the shouting during prayer. People pray differently, and I respect that. But I struggle with the idea that the louder you shout, the more likely God is to hear you. Even as a child, I learnt, “Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name…”
Pray as you wish, but please do not tell me God cannot hear me unless I shout. And must the entire neighbourhood hear my prayers through loudspeakers?
Maybe my questions come from the fact that I have always questioned things in church.
As a child, I raised concerns about things taught in catechism and happenings in the choir. Instead of engaging with my questions, I was labelled stubborn and disrespectful. I was made to write an apology letter and read it before the congregation on Children Harvest Day.
Months later, the head of the Parish Pastoral Council apologised on their behalf. He admitted that I had raised concerns they themselves were afraid to raise. The priest involved had also been reported to the Archdiocese.
That experience taught me that religious leaders are human. They can make mistakes, and their positions do not automatically make every decision right.
To be clear, I know there are pastors and priests who serve faithfully and do wonderful work. This is not an attack on every religious leader. My concern is with practices that exploit people’s desperation and a culture where questioning a spiritual leader is treated as rebellion.
Respect does not mean silence. Faith does not require abandoning critical thinking. We can honour our spiritual leaders without treating them as infallible.
We can pray for financial blessings without making money the measure of God’s love. We can give without being manipulated. We can have faith and still ask questions.
My faith is not a business transaction. My God is not a vending machine. And no pastor or priest will ever take the place of God in my life.
That is where I stand. And I make no apologies for it.
Its RON
Would we still pray? Of course. Prayer is also gratitude, worship and fellowship. But our environment definitely shapes the things we pray for and the messages we hear.
When sermons focus almost entirely on financial breakthroughs, I sometimes tune out. I have heard the message so often that I can predict the next sentence.
When did our relationship with God become so transactional?
I understand that churches need funds to operate. My concern is not with giving, but with making people feel their blessings depend on how much they give. Giving should come from the heart, not fear or pressure.
Then there is the shouting during prayer. People pray differently, and I respect that. But I struggle with the idea that the louder you shout, the more likely God is to hear you. Even as a child, I learnt, “Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name…”
Pray as you wish, but please do not tell me God cannot hear me unless I shout. And must the entire neighbourhood hear my prayers through loudspeakers?
Maybe my questions come from the fact that I have always questioned things in church.
As a child, I raised concerns about things taught in catechism and happenings in the choir. Instead of engaging with my questions, I was labelled stubborn and disrespectful. I was made to write an apology letter and read it before the congregation on Children Harvest Day.
Months later, the head of the Parish Pastoral Council apologised on their behalf. He admitted that I had raised concerns they themselves were afraid to raise. The priest involved had also been reported to the Archdiocese.
That experience taught me that religious leaders are human. They can make mistakes, and their positions do not automatically make every decision right.
To be clear, I know there are pastors and priests who serve faithfully and do wonderful work. This is not an attack on every religious leader. My concern is with practices that exploit people’s desperation and a culture where questioning a spiritual leader is treated as rebellion.
Respect does not mean silence. Faith does not require abandoning critical thinking. We can honour our spiritual leaders without treating them as infallible.
We can pray for financial blessings without making money the measure of God’s love. We can give without being manipulated. We can have faith and still ask questions.
My faith is not a business transaction. My God is not a vending machine. And no pastor or priest will ever take the place of God in my life.
That is where I stand. And I make no apologies for it.
Its RON
xoxoxo
Thank you Ron for doing justice to this topic.
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