“EL SUBSIDY CHURCH OF CHRIST, INC.”: Reappraising “Church” in Nigerian Christian Religiosity

By

S. ’Jide Komolafe

The first part of this title was one of a few distinctive church name variations that surfaced on social networking sites, particularly Facebook, during the petrol price hike embroilment in Nigeria early in the year. There were other expressive usage patterns such as “Jehovah El-Subsidy Ministries, Isolo – Lagos,” “Ijo Mimo Subsidy Lati Orun Wa,” “CAC, Oke Subsidy, Iwo Road, Ibadan.” These creative adaptations are  “humorous lexical and semantic contortions” of such popular church names as “Ijo Mimo Kristi Lati Orun Wa” (Celestial Church of Christ), “Jehovah El Shaddai Ministries” (Jehovah God Almighty Ministries), “CAC, Oke Irapada” (CAC, Mount of Transfiguration)  and so on.

I had decided to use one of these creatively contextualized names before I came across Farooq Kperogi’s article, “The grammar and vocabulary of ‘fuel subsidy removal.’”[1] Kperogi’s depth and dexterous command of English tower in masterful supremacy. Yet, he is as entertaining as he is intellectually stimulating. His is an expose of the vernacularization and humorous contortions of the word “subsidy” in Nigerian English. While his focus is on the linguistic consciousness of the term and its distinctive usage patterns among Nigerians, my interest is in the exposure of ecclesiastical impulses that go beyond inspired “fashionable vocabularies and expressive styles.” This must not be misunderstood as attempting to play one against the other. Not at all! Rather, both highlight the scandal in contemporary Nigeria and the outrageously unconscionable indulgences that exist in the realms of God and of Caesar—the religious and the civil.

The vernacularization of the term “subsidy” and its associated contortions should, therefore, be seen as less relevant humorously than as a symbolic coping strategy. Although the texts of the humor are important, they constitute only a part of the whole. This is not to ignore the fact that whether these creative contortions are funny to some and unfunny to others, they are by no means useless. In a country where the aggregate index tilts precariously between rampart poverty and existential hopelessness, it is understandable that the humorous approach to the compounding of wellbeing as a result of the so-called “fuel subsidy removal” was a deliberate and powerful emotional regulator. Even when a sober cast would have been more appropriate these humorous contortions forced a positive perspective on an otherwise frustrating situation.

   

In the same way, the incongruous and unexpected association of these normally unrelated contexts (church and subsidy) presents a humorous reappraisal of what being and doing church has become in contemporary Nigeria. To this extent, it is possible to assess the expressive usage pattern such as “El-Subsidy Church of Christ, Inc.” not only as the limits of humor, but as both reflective of the state of the church in relation to the deeply conflicted subsidy removal itself and the associated corruption of our political economy.  The proliferation of churches, embodied by these distinctive church name variations, becomes the humorous reappraisal distancing authentic biblical Christianity from the upsetting scenario of today. By so doing, the humorist gains a sense of control over a disempowering situation and makes a compelling case for conservative values. 

Such a humorous reappraisal of the church presents us with a challenge. It calls us to stop being so comfortable and to start seeking the truth. More importantly, it challenges us to stand up for the church and against the liberal spin machine, whose practice attract many to the church but leave many more wanting more than prosperity and material acquisition. It is not an exaggerated claim that the most incurable of optimists would be hard put to it to deny the effusive assessment that “truth” has become a grand illusion in Nigeria. Yet, the country adjudged “the most religious nation in the world” (BBC News, 26 February 2004), and home to “the world’s largest temple” (naijagists.com, Dec. 6, 2011) occupies a less than enviable spot on the Corruption Perceptions Index (CPI).

How then are we to conceptualize this intractable contradiction? Would anyone looking at our last vestiges of “truth” proclaim our religious houses as morally surpassing the other sectors of the polity? Answering these questions truthfully and honestly is quite sobering indeed. What we have are religious institutions that have virtually become the fertilizing agent of everything untrue. We are prodigiously endowed in human and natural resources, and are uniquely described as “the most religious.” Nevertheless, Nigeria remains an index finger of poverty, social misery and corruption. This makes Nigeria a curious paradox in the comity of nations!

Looking at Nigerian Christianity, for example, the last couple of decades have brought new gains in influence and respectability to the nation as the center of remarkable Christian engagement both on the continent and in the world. Yet, a closer look at the story of Christianity in Nigeria reveals a tightly woven narrative of the process of beginning, growth and change. First, there were, and still are, the denominational churches of the Protestant mission era with their deep roots in Western forms and theology. Then arose the so-called African indigenous churches that gave witness to religious independency and a more African way of doing church. And lastly, there have come the more eclectic Charismatic/Pentecostal churches, revealing both Western and existing African expressions. This third strand can best be described as a “continuum,” where the past, with its older traditions, flows together with the present, epitomizing religious innovation in 21st century Nigeria.

Any analysis of religious engagement in Nigeria is misleading if it fails to account for such a transforming and somewhat overlapping pattern of church development. It must equally highlight the principal contributing factors of the massive growth of the church. The phenomena that characterize Nigerian Christianity are full of dramatic movements and sub-movements that are both radical and often controversial. These movements show clearly African creativity with its peculiar character, shape and form. Today’s pattern of church expansion is out of the ordinary: the exploding numbers, the scope of the phenomenon, the cross-cultural patterns of encounter, the variety and diversity of styles and forms, the wide spectrum of theological views and ecclesiastical traditions represented, the ideas of authority and styles of leadership that have been developed, the process of contextualization that fosters liturgical renewal, and the production of new religious art, music, hymns, songs, and prayers. All of these are featured on Christianity’s breathtakingly new face today. It does not come as a surprise, therefore, that a comparative survey of ten countries by the BBC aptly described Nigeria as “the most religious nation in the world.” It is very doubtful if this ranking has slipped because the events of today far surpass those of 2004 when the remark was first uttered. In fact, contemporary church advancement is a remarkable forward momentum that mimics the zeal and missionary optimism of the First Century Church.

For our purpose, the renewed attentiveness to ecclesiastical ethos looks through the lens of the moment and back to the late 1970s through the early 1980s. These decades marked the emergence of neo-Pentecostalism as the most creative and adaptive strand in Nigerian Christian history. On the one hand, it was an emotional reaction and a welcome moral alternative as the neo-Pentecostals became the subject examining an unsavory political, economic and socio-cultural milieu. On the other hand, this consciousness inevitably made them (whether or not they were aware at the time) the object of that same examination. It is a sober acknowledgement that more than two decades after their emergence on to the religious landscape, not many Nigerians will esteem them as highly as was the case in the early 1980s. A cursory look at articles, online social network discussions and blogs will show that not a few people are dissatisfied with the church in Nigeria over its perceived complicity in the corruption that has permeated everywhere whether in our pulpits or in public offices. 

Today, most discussions bother on the serious incompatibility between the church’s evangelistic conviction and its moral obligation. The commercialization of the gospel, for example, is disturbing to say the least. The Jesus of neo-Pentecostalism seems to have more in common with the Chamber of Commerce than with a rugged tree on a barren hill. Consumed by the “doctrine of prosperity” the church seems to have found the symbolic platform on which to integrate the born-again experience of redemption with social mobility, conspicuous consumption, and the legitimation of wealth in a time of scarcity.

The bold, radical, and even desperate attempts at becoming rich are out of bounds. In the process, the question of truth has been completely trivialized and the gospel itself robbed of its ultimate seriousness. Even the most elemental changes in human society for which the church has earned social respectability, such as building up morals and inculcating good behavior, have become lost. Today, a country that was adjudged “the most religious in the world” also boastfully affirms to be home to “the world’s largest temple.” In spite of these dexterous religious achievements, Nigeria occupies a negative rating on the Corruption Perceptions Index (CPI). What then has gone wrong? Where are the prophets, those who have the divine mandate to campaign against what is evil, abhorrent and depreciating? In other words, how do we reconcile this paradox? It is fitting to say, therefore, that the Nigerian church is presently poised at a “strategic inflection point” where discernible strengths and limitations must be juxtaposed with a fresh articulation of the task and role of the church in nation building.

Answering these questions is precisely the purpose of our next series. It is to confront head-on some of the issues that are problematic to the Nigerian church. It is my hope that each commentary will present an argument to a problem; explain what the problem is, what caused it and what can be done to fix it. It is not a forum to bash people but to focus on specific issue, using biblical facts to back up theological claims. 

“The greatest historical puzzle of the Church’s history,” in the words of Leonhard Goppelt, “is her origin.”[2] Even more so, the origin and formation of the Church must be conceptualized in terms of her message since it is impossible to discuss one without the other. To this end, the apostolic witness has been the authoritative source that found its expression in what we have as the New Testament canon. Today, over two thousand years since the formation of the Church, historical investigations have taken on new forms, indicating the lines of thought, and the forces that made for change.

Nevertheless, in the process of eccelesiastical scholarship, the New Testament documents set the stage for all church history. They offer a series of explanations for the transition from Jesus’ earthly ministry to the development of the Church. It is assumed in this series, therefore, that an understanding of the basic ecclesiological developments in the First Century provides the a priori developmental principle that one can understand what the Church should be today only when one has a thorough understanding of what the Church “has been” or “ought to be.”

It is an appropriate theological claim, then, to posit that there is a connection between historical and contemporary ecclesiological developments, whereby the former gives expression to the fundamental claims of the latter.

What I have set out to do in the “Faith Seeking Understanding” series is to explore the biblical understanding of the Church and to find relevant clues from ancient times that may inform Christian thought and practice in Nigeria today. As a matter of urgency, some of the issues will also bother on theological integrity, moral probity, ecclesiastical accountability and the false dichotomy between theory and praxis. Ultimately, undergirding this series is the attempt to help people understand, explain, test, critique, defend or promote any of myriad religious issues relating to the practice and role of church in Nigeria today. In other words, it is to arm the average person with the kind of religious truth that is both self sustaining and socially liberating. It is not to be misunderstood as attempting to replace faith with understanding. Not at all! However one looks at it, Nigerians love God and this partly explains why we are considered “religious.” My premise follows from here and adopts the stance of Saint Anselm. That is, “faith seeking understanding” means something like “an active love of God seeking a deeper knowledge of God.” I must warn, however, that this journey is not a sprint. It is somewhat of a marathon that (Lord willing) will last a number of weeks. So, let’s fasten our seat belts as we embark on our journey of “Faith Seeking Understanding.”

---

                REFERENCES

                [1] Farook Kperogi, “The Grammar and Vocabulary of ‘Fuel Subsidy Removal’” (http://sundaytrust.com.ng/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=9104&catid=13&Itemid=28). Accessed on Feb. 5, 2012.

                [2] Leonard Goppelt, Apostolic and Post-Apostolic Times (1970:8).

S