Has the church become an institution of power while missionary work fades?

 The Church was once envisioned as a living body of believers whose central purpose was to proclaim the message of Jesus Christ, care for the poor, heal the broken-hearted, and spread the good news of salvation. It was meant to be a fellowship of service, humility, and sacrifice, grounded not in wealth or power but in spiritual transformation. Yet, over the centuries, and especially in the present era, it has increasingly come to resemble a highly institutionalized structure. Instead of being a movement of mission and mercy, it has often been reduced to a system of governance, bureaucracy, rules, and regulations.

 In many parts of the world, bishops, cardinals, and church leaders appear to live like monarchs, enjoying a life of privilege, pomp, and protocol while the ordinary faithful are treated as passive subjects expected to obey without question. This reality has raised a pressing question: has the Church become more concerned with building itself as an institution rather than fulfilling its missionary call?

 The very word "Church" in the earliest biblical sense referred to the gathering of believers, the ekklesia, a community bound together in faith and service. But what we see now is a massive administrative body, with hierarchical layers and elaborate structures of power. Instead of being known for fearless witness and outreach to the margins, the Church is often identified with imposing cathedrals, lavish ceremonies, and the authority of clergy. Bishops, who are meant to be shepherds, frequently come across as rulers. Their residences, motorcades, and lifestyles echo a kingly court rather than the humble fisherman Peter or the tireless missionary Paul. What began as a movement of radical discipleship has, in too many cases, settled into a religious corporation.

 The danger of institutionalization is not just the presence of rules. Any community needs order and accountability. The danger lies in what becomes the centre of gravity. For the early disciples, the heart of the faith was mission: preaching Christ, healing the sick, breaking bread with the poor, embracing outcasts. For many church leaders today, the heart of their work appears to be administration: property disputes, financial management, committee meetings, and ensuring loyalty to ecclesiastical authority. A disproportionate amount of time and energy is spent on maintaining the machinery of the institution rather than engaging in the daring and risky work of evangelization.

 Missionary work, which once drove men and women to leave their homes, learn new languages, and risk their lives in foreign lands, is now in retreat. Missionaries in the past went to remote villages, braved disease, confronted hostile rulers, and lived alongside the poorest of the poor. They translated Scriptures, built schools, and transformed communities. Today, that spirit has dimmed. The missionary task is often reduced to token charity drives, photo opportunities, and social projects that satisfy annual reports. The real zeal to carry the message of Christ to those who have never heard it, or to live radically among the marginalized, is far less visible. The institutional Church seems more invested in preserving its reputation, defending its assets, and ensuring its authority rather than sacrificing itself for the world.

 The gap between clergy and laity has widened. Bishops speak of service but often command obedience. They dictate from pulpits and pastoral letters but rarely listen to the lived struggles of ordinary believers. Their decisions, especially in matters of finance, land, or internal disputes, often mimic the language of corporate executives or political leaders rather than humble servants of the Gospel. In many dioceses, bishops travel in expensive cars, host elaborate banquets, and reside in palatial houses, while parishioners struggle to make ends meet. The irony is striking when one recalls that Jesus rode into Jerusalem on a donkey, washed the feet of his disciples, and warned that whoever wants to be great must be the servant of all.

 This shift toward institutionalism has consequences. Faith becomes ritualistic, confined to Sunday obligations and rules, rather than a transformative way of life. People are judged more on whether they conform to regulations than whether they live the spirit of Christ’s love. The Church becomes obsessed with its image in the media, its financial security, and its hierarchical prestige, while the prophetic voice of truth is silenced. Instead of standing alongside the oppressed, the Church risks becoming an ally of power, more comfortable negotiating with politicians than comforting the afflicted.

 The laity, meanwhile, are treated as recipients of directives rather than co-workers in mission. Yet, the strength of the Church has always been in the faith of ordinary believers who pray, teach, serve, and evangelize in their daily lives. When the hierarchy alienates them through arrogance or excessive control, the Church loses its lifeblood. The people of God are not meant to be spectators. They are the body of Christ, every member vital. A Church that treats them as children to be disciplined rather than adults with gifts and callings undermines its own mission.

 The decline of missionary spirit is especially evident in urban and Western contexts. Churches in many cities are shrinking, pews are empty, and young people are disillusioned. Instead of radical outreach, the focus seems to be on survival—fundraising to maintain aging buildings, legal battles over inheritance, and endless conferences on organizational reform. Mission is spoken of, but rarely lived. When was the last time bishops themselves went out to the streets to serve the homeless or engaged with migrant workers without a retinue of aides and photographers? The early missionaries did not wait for permission or institutional recognition; they burned with zeal. Today, that flame seems dim behind layers of bureaucracy.

 It is not only missionary work abroad that suffers; even within local communities, the priority is often misplaced. Too much energy is spent on ceremonial grandeur and less on genuine pastoral care. Churches organize massive feasts, parades, and celebrations that consume enormous resources, while poor families in the same parishes struggle with hospital bills and education costs. What does it profit the Church to erect marble altars and golden chalices while neglecting the widows, orphans, and unemployed youth sitting in its pews? Christ himself asked a similar question when he condemned the Pharisees for tithing mint and cumin while neglecting justice, mercy, and faithfulness.

 Another mark of institutionalization is the obsession with control. Rules govern who may participate, how they may serve, and which voices are allowed to be heard. Creative initiatives from the laity are often suppressed because they do not align with established protocols. Innovation is stifled. Priests and bishops prefer conformity to creativity. Yet, the Spirit of God is not bound by human rules; it blows where it wills. The Church risks quenching that Spirit by prioritizing regulations over renewal.

 Of course, not all clergy or bishops fall into this pattern. There are many who live humbly, serve tirelessly, and embody the Gospel in their lives. But the dominant image presented to the world is often one of hierarchy, privilege, and control. When scandals emerge—whether financial mismanagement, abuse of power, or moral failures—the credibility of the Church suffers further. And when leadership responds with secrecy, cover-ups, or defensive postures, it only deepens the impression that the Church is more concerned with protecting itself as an institution than with pursuing truth and justice.

 The tragedy is that the Church has within it the potential for great renewal. The Gospel still burns with power. The lives of saints and martyrs still testify to a faith worth living and dying for. The laity are filled with gifts and talents waiting to be harnessed. Missionary zeal can still be rekindled if the institution loosens its grip on power and rediscover its purpose. But this requires courage from the hierarchy. It requires bishops to step down from thrones and live among the people. It requires structures to shift from control to empowerment. It requires the Church to prioritize service over survival, mission over maintenance, Christ over comfort.

 The temptation of every religious institution through history has been to replace the radical call of faith with the safety of rules, to replace service with status, and to replace sacrifice with security. The Christian Church, despite its divine origins, has not been immune to this temptation. Yet, history also shows that renewal is always possible. Reformers have arisen in every era, reminding the Church of its true purpose. Perhaps today, when the gap between hierarchy and laity is widening and missionary work is waning, another wave of renewal is needed.

 The question remains urgent: has the Church forgotten its essence? If it continues to prioritize institutional power, financial wealth, and ceremonial prestige, it will lose its credibility in the eyes of the world. But if it dares to strip away these trappings and return to the radical simplicity of Christ’s way, it could once again become a force of transformation. The choice is stark: to be an institution obsessed with rules and rulers, or to be a movement of faith that lives and proclaims the Gospel fearlessly.

 The future of the Church depends on which path it chooses. The faithful are watching, the poor are waiting, and the world is in need of hope. The Church must decide whether it will remain a comfortable institution or rediscover its missionary heart.