Many years ago, as a youngster, I watched a powerful priest praying in church.
His eyes were closed. His hands were raised. His voice trembled with devotion. Anyone watching him would have imagined that heaven had reserved a special seat for him.
But many of us knew another story.
Church property had disappeared. Money entrusted to the institution had allegedly been misused. Questions were whispered in corridors, but never asked aloud.
I remember wondering, “Is he not afraid of God?”
Perhaps he believed that God, like the congregation, could be silenced. Perhaps he thought a long prayer could erase a long list of wrongs. Perhaps he imagined that if he sang loudly enough, heaven would not hear the sound of money being counted.
But God is not deaf.
While reading 2 Chronicles Chapter 12, I came across King Rehoboam. Once his kingdom was established and he had become strong, he abandoned the law of the Lord. The people followed him. Then Shishak, king of Egypt, marched against Judah, captured its fortified cities and advanced towards Jerusalem.
At that moment, the prophet Shemaiah delivered God’s message: “You have forsaken me, and therefore have I also left you in the hand of Shishak.”
Those are frightening words.
They tell us that when people repeatedly reject righteousness, dishonesty eventually presents its bill. Unfortunately, the bill is rarely paid only by those who committed the wrong. Ordinary people pay too.
When religious leaders steal, manipulate accounts, grab property, misuse donations or turn sacred institutions into private kingdoms, an entire community suffers. Its witness is weakened. Its young people become cynical. Its honest members feel ashamed. Its enemies are handed ammunition.
But before we blame these corrupt religious leaders, we must examine ourselves.
Who protected them?
Who remained silent because the priest was powerful? Who accepted favours? Who discouraged questions in the name of preserving the Church’s reputation? Who said, “Let us not create trouble,” while wrongdoing continued?
There’s a well-known Christian Chartered accountant who represents cases in the charity commissioner’s office who when I pointed out corruption of four priests running a religious magazine, told me, “This is only a pimple!”
Corruption is not a pimple. It is a volcano!
And silence in the presence of corruption is not peace. It is permission.
There is hope, however. When Rehoboam and the leaders humbled themselves, God said, “They have humbled themselves, therefore I will not destroy them, but I will grant them some deliverance.”
Our response must also begin with humility and repentance. We must demand transparent accounts, independent inquiries and responsible leadership. Those guilty must never be hidden beneath robes, titles, influence or pious language.
Let us speak up and condemn these men and women, not only because youngsters are losing faith, but regain His protection for His people, as churches get vandalised, congregations threatened, and Bibles burnt…!