Monday, 15 September 2025

The Hijacked Church: Power, Politics and Profits Over the Gospel

 From Gospel to Greed: The Church’s Descent into Corporate Power

 There was a time when the Church was a sanctuary — not just a building, but a mission. A beacon for the broken, the lost, the humble and the poor. It was never meant to be a profit-making enterprise. It was never designed to compete with corporations, run real estate empires, or operate like multinational conglomerates. But today, that’s precisely what it has become.

 The Church has been hijacked. It has been institutionalised — bloated with bureaucracy, drenched in politics, and infected with the cancer of money and power. The message of Jesus Christ has been buried beneath marble floors and golden altars. The rugged cross of Calvary has been traded for air-conditioned sanctuaries and digital donation kiosks. The Gospel has become a side note, while business plans and infrastructure expansion have become the main agenda.

The Modern-Day Church: A Corporation in Disguise

Walk into any urban Church today and it feels less like a house of prayer and more like a corporate office. Sleek architecture, administrative blocks, auditoriums, and PR teams. Some churches even have branding consultants and marketing managers. The Church, which once thrived on faith and simplicity, now thrives on land acquisitions, legal teams, and financial portfolios.

Bishops and cardinals — once shepherds of the people — now live like royalty. They dwell in palatial residences, chauffeur-driven cars at their service, and entourages to maintain their schedules. They talk about humility from pulpits but walk in opulence behind the scenes. They are more at home in political circles and international summits than among the sick, the poor, or the lost.

The hierarchy has distanced itself from the grassroots. The bishops have become bureaucrats, the cardinals – aristocrats. They are no longer accessible to the common faithful. They live in ivory towers, disconnected from the daily struggles of the people. They preach about the suffering of Christ, but their lives resemble that of kings, not servants.

Evangelisation: The Forgotten Mission

What happened to evangelisation? What happened to missionary work, the lifeblood of the early Church? The passion to spread the Good News has been replaced with a passion to expand campuses. The zeal for souls has been traded for a thirst for wealth.

In earlier centuries, missionaries walked through forests, risked death, and faced hostility to preach the Gospel. Today, evangelism has become inconvenient, even unfashionable. It’s barely mentioned anymore — unless it serves to solicit donations for some NGO-style report. The fire to win souls has been extinguished by the comfort of air-conditioned boardrooms and balance sheets.

Churches today are more concerned with opening colleges, engineering institutions, medical schools, shopping malls, and dairy farms. Yes, dairy farms — because now even milk is a “ministry”. These establishments rake in crores, all under the guise of “Christian service”, while the spiritual mission lies in ruins. Education and healthcare are essential, yes — but when they become profit centres and status symbols rather than expressions of love and service, something is deeply rotten.

The Gospel Replaced by Business Models

The teachings of Jesus were radical — simplicity, sacrifice, love, repentance. But now the Gospel is watered down into soft motivational sermons that won’t offend the rich donors. Prosperity theology is the new opium. Jesus flipping tables in the temple is never preached; instead, we’re taught to “sow a seed” and expect a miracle return.

Money has become the hidden god of the Church. It dictates decisions, it steers leadership choices, and it silences prophets. There are prayers for wealth, blessings, and success — but very few calls to repentance, humility, or sacrificial living. Holiness has taken a back seat. Popularity, convenience, and affluence are now the priorities.

Church functions are grandiose shows. They are less about worship and more about showcasing influence. VIP chairs, celebrity guests, massive LED screens, catered lunches — all to create an illusion of success. But peel back the surface and you’ll find spiritual emptiness.

Laity Organisations: Clubs in Disguise

What about the laity? The Fathers’ Groups, the Mothers’ Associations, the Youth Ministries? Many of these have degenerated into social clubs and networking platforms. They wear matching uniforms, hold rehearsed meetings, and gossip under the pretext of “fellowship”. They organise picnics, fashion shows, cooking competitions, and cultural evenings — but rarely do you hear of prayer vigils, fasting sessions, or soul-winning campaigns.

Fellowship has turned into elitism. The spiritual urgency is missing. The early church had believers breaking bread and praying in unity, enduring persecution together. Today, laity groups fight over seating arrangements, who gets to sit in the front pew, or whose name appears first on the programme sheet.

In the name of community building, these groups have turned into social ladders. They celebrate birthdays with cakes, but do not mourn over sin. They host talent nights, but neglect the broken-hearted in their midst. The Crucified Christ is not the centre — status and recognition are.

Jesus Christ: Ignored and Sidelined

Amid all this religious machinery, the One for whom the Church exists — Jesus Christ — has been ignored. Not denied, not rejected — just politely pushed to the side. He is mentioned in sermons, sung about in songs, but not followed in practice. His suffering, His humility, His call to die to self — all have been sterilised to suit our modern comforts.

There is no room for the Man of Sorrows in churches obsessed with success. There is no space for the Jesus who said “take up your cross and follow Me” in a Christianity that is more about convenience than conviction. The crucified Christ is too uncomfortable a figure. We want a sanitized saviour, not a suffering servant. We want a Jesus who blesses our plans, not one who demands repentance.

The Cross, once central, is now an accessory. It’s engraved in gold, hung in churches, worn on necks — but not carried in real life. The Church preaches resurrection without crucifixion, victory without obedience, glory without suffering. It has become a religion of shortcuts, not surrender.

The Rise of Celebrity Clergy

And now we have celebrity pastors and superstar priests. They have fan followings, media appearances, and social media pages managed like influencers. They brand themselves, sell books, do interviews — but are rarely seen ministering in slums, prisons, or hospitals unless there’s a photo op. Their theology is tailored to please, not to pierce.

It’s all about building “ministries”, collecting followers, and showcasing charisma. These modern spiritual celebrities have platforms, not altars. They seek applause, not accountability. They are adored, not corrected.

And the bishops — many of them behave like CEOs. They wear crowns and vestments worth lakhs, attend global conferences, but are tone-deaf to the suffering of their own congregations. They speak of justice, but tolerate corruption. They preach love, but silence whistleblowers. When scandals erupt, they protect the institution, not the truth.

The Silence of the Lambs

Where are the prophets in the Church? Where are the voices crying in the wilderness? Most have been silenced, ignored, or driven out. The Church no longer tolerates truth-tellers. It prefers diplomats over disciples, managers over martyrs.

Anyone who dares to question the rot is labelled rebellious or “lacking grace”. The institution protects itself by suppressing dissent. And so, the cycle continues. The machinery rolls on. The structures expand. The budgets grow. But the Spirit is absent.

It is a tragic irony that the Church, meant to carry the light, has itself become a shadow. Instead of setting the world on fire with holiness and truth, it has become lukewarm — neither hot nor cold — fit only to be spat out, as Christ warned in Revelation.

Where Do We Go from Here?

Is there hope? Yes. But it will not come from committees, fundraisers, or five-year strategic plans. It will come through repentance — deep, painful, unapologetic repentance. The Church must fall on its face before God and admit: we have strayed, we have compromised, we have institutionalised what was meant to be a movement of the Spirit.

The Gospel must return to the centre. The Cross must regain its rightful place. Christ must no longer be a figurehead — He must be Lord again. Not just in doctrine, but in practice.

We need shepherds who smell like sheep. Leaders who live simply, pray deeply, and serve sacrificially. We need churches that care more about the lost than about land deals. We need laity who burn with a desire for holiness, not hierarchy. We need revival — not of noise and lights, but of brokenness, confession, and surrender.

The early Church turned the world upside down without buildings, budgets, or branding. They had power because they had purity. They had authority because they had intimacy with God. That is what we must return to.

Until then, the Church will remain a sleeping giant — rich, respected, and utterly irrelevant to a dying world.

Final Words

Jesus did not die for shopping malls, dairy farms, and multimillion-dollar church complexes. He did not suffer on a Roman cross so bishops could live like emperors and churches could hoard wealth under the guise of ministry. He died to save sinners. He rose again to empower disciples. He gave us a mission — to go, preach, baptise, and make disciples of all nations.

We were called to be salt and light — not status symbols and landowners. The Church was meant to be a living, breathing body of Christ — not a lifeless bureaucracy draped in robes and rituals. The early Church had no cathedrals, no endowments, no billion-rupee education empires — but it had power, because it had purity and purpose. That is what made it unstoppable.

Today, the Church has everything — except the presence of God.

We have microphones but no message. We have rituals but no reverence. We have structures but no spirit. We’ve turned houses of worship into theatres, pastors into performers, and services into stage shows. The cross has become decoration, not dedication. Christ has become a brand, not the burning centre of our lives.

The Church must awaken — not just rebrand. We don’t need another mission statement; we need brokenness and repentance. We don’t need smarter strategies; we need surrendered hearts. The time for shallow sermons and cosmetic spirituality is over.

The real Jesus is not sitting comfortably in our boardrooms. He is out in the streets, among the addicts, the outcasts, the wounded and the weary. He is waiting for His Church to remember what it once was — a people set apart, holy, hungry for truth, willing to lose everything for the sake of the Gospel.

 Until we tear down our ivory towers, lay aside our thrones, and return to the foot of the cross — we will keep playing church while the world burns. We must choose: either we institutionalise our faith to death, or we resurrect it with fire.

God is not impressed by our buildings, budgets, or branding. He is looking for hearts that tremble at His Word, lives laid down in obedience, and a Church that looks like Jesus — not a Fortune 500 company. Let the Church stop being a business. Let it be the Body again.

Let the crucified Christ be the centre again — not sidelined, not polished up for display, but embraced in His raw, radical call to die to ourselves and follow Him. Then, and only then, can we say: this is truly the Church of Jesus Christ.

 

No comments: