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By Mwami
Growing up, many of us wrestled with the weight of religious traditions passed down through generations. We sat through sermons and rituals that often felt more like routines than revelations. Our parents’ faiths—be they Catholic, Anglican, or otherwise—came with rigid structures that dictated how we were to relate with God. But often, those structures left us with more confusion than comfort.
In search of a deeper connection, we left. We chose salvation. We embraced Pentecostalism. We believed in the promise of a personal relationship with God—one where questions were welcomed, doubts could be voiced, and answers would lead us closer to divine truth. For a time, that new spiritual path felt like home.
The new church, the old problems
Fast forward just a few decades, and something feels eerily familiar. The modern Pentecostal movement, once our refuge from religious rigidity, is slowly erecting the very walls we broke through. Dubious financial dealings are brushed off without explanation. Lavish spending—often funded by struggling congregants—is not only tolerated but fiercely defended by the flock, even when it's unclear how the money is spent. It’s reminiscent of what our parents and grandparents did. Back then, they gave unquestioningly to institutions they couldn’t fully understand—churches we ultimately chose to leave behind. Yet, despite our exodus, we still find ourselves haunted by the same unanswered questions.
A culture of silence
Today, in many of our churches, questioning the pastor is equated to attacking him. Congregants are discouraged from probing too deeply into decisions or teachings. The prosperity gospel thrives, offering hope but little substance. Young people are pressured into rushed marriages—less out of love and readiness, and more to maintain an image of holiness and avoid “courting in sin.”
And when official church statements gloss over serious concerns—like unexplained debts or controversial practices—our only response is silence. We rationalize. We defend. We conform. But it wasn’t supposed to be like this.
Deja Vu: The faith we escaped is catching up
The conflict you feel today? That internal unease when something feels off in your faith community? It’s the same discomfort our parents felt in the churches they left. It’s the same reason we sought spiritual freedom. But now, we’re back at square one—defending leadership decisions we don’t understand, justifying systems that no longer serve us.
And let’s be clear: this isn’t about one church or one ministry. It’s not just about Phaneroo, Zoe Ministries, or any single denomination. Just as the Catholic Church’s sexual abuse scandals transcend individual parishes, what’s happening today is systemic. Something is deeply broken in how we are doing faith.
A flawed inheritance
If we continue down this path, we risk passing on to our children a faith filled with fear, performance, and pretense. A faith that cannot be questioned, even in love. A faith that discourages reflection in favor of blind allegiance. And if we fail to see this—because we’re too loyal to our pastors or too scared to rock the boat—then we’re no different from those we once criticized.
The call for authentic faith
This isn’t a call to abandon church. Nor is it an attack on any believer’s decision to stay in traditional faith systems. In fact, considering the chaos unfolding in many newer churches, remaining Catholic or Anglican might feel like the safer, wiser option.
But above all, this is a call for authenticity. For humility. For courage.
If our relationship with God is to be real, we must stop pretending everything is okay when it’s not. Healing begins with honesty—not just about our pastors and churches, but about our own roles in perpetuating silence.
May our search for God—and for truth—never cease. Not for comfort. Not for reputation. Not for fear of standing alone.
The writer is a Storyteller, Podcaster, Creative
Follow him for more content here: AfriMillennial
