Because My Pastor Won’t Steal
We live in a time when pastors are dragged through the mud daily, on social media, on podcasts, in newspapers, and in public spaces. Some of it is justified, but that is not my concern here. The church, which should be a sanctuary for the broken, has become a marketplace where holiness is auctioned to the highest bidder. Men who once preached salvation now preach self-interest.
Yet, in the midst of this corruption, there exists a man who refuses to bow. A man whose only crime is integrity. A pastor who will not steal, who will not lie, who will not exploit the people God placed under his care. He preaches truth even when it is inconvenient. He upholds discipline even when others mock him for it. He refuses to be politically correct when it comes to righteousness. And because he won’t steal, because he won’t bend, they turned against him.
For over thirty years, my pastor built his ministry on truth. He never sugarcoated sin. He never preached prosperity without holiness. His hands were clean, his conscience untainted. But his greatest crime? He dared to expose corruption and the vices within the leadership and membership of his denomination.
That was his sin, calling out what should have never been hidden. He spoke against fraudulent financial practices. He challenged the manipulation and deceit that had crept into the church. He refused to turn a blind eye to the exploitation of the people. And for that, they came for him.
They accused him of everything imaginable. They called him an embezzler, though he had never stolen. They called him a cultist, though he had only preached Christ. They spread the lie that he received his powers from dark places, though his only source was the Holy Spirit. They forged documents, created false witnesses, and spread malicious rumours, all in a desperate attempt to tarnish his name.
It started subtly, whispers behind closed doors, secret late-night meetings, cold stares from colleagues. Then, the attack became official. His so-called superiors, men without virtue or value, decided to push him out. They claimed they had revoked his “pastoral license.” But I ask, who gave them the power to revoke what they did not call? Who gave them the authority to silence a voice they never anointed?
Still, the leadership of his denomination insisted that he was no longer one of them. They wrote letters filled with lies, denouncing him. Men who once called him a brother now branded him an outcast. How wicked can the heart of man be?
But that was not enough. The battle extended beyond the church. The police became an instrument of harassment. Officers stormed his house, guns pointed at his head as if he were a criminal. This was a man who had never stolen, never defrauded anyone. But here he was, treated like a common thief, all because he refused to compromise.
Sunday service became a battlefield. Thugs and armed men stormed the church, disrupting services, chasing out members, and threatening those who dared to remain. One night, the church was locked without warning. When members arrived the next morning, they found security operatives standing guard. Even now, the church remains sealed, with no clear indication of when—or if—it will reopen.
But why? What was his crime? Because he refused to steal. Because he refused to submit to their demands. Because he dared to stand against corruption, both within the church and outside it. But how does a man walk away from his calling?
Anonymous sources emerged from nowhere, accusing him of everything under the sun. No evidence. No truth. Just an orchestrated effort to destroy a man whose only offense was righteousness. Even pastors who once called him “brother” now called him a fraud. But where were they when he was falsely accused? Where were they when his life was on the line?
This is where the hypocrisy becomes unbearable. These were men who preached about standing for truth. Men who declared unity in the body of Christ. Yet, when it was time to defend their brother, they vanished. Some whispered in secret that they stood with him, but when the time came to speak out, they cowered in fear, because silence was safer. Because speaking up would mean standing against the same powers that could destroy them too.
This is not just my pastor’s story. This is a reality happening in the Nigerian church today. The corruption, the betrayals, the hypocrisy, it is all real. But so is the need for a new generation of pastors. Men who will refuse to steal, who will refuse to bow, who will stand for righteousness even when it costs them everything.
My pastor stood, even when it cost him his reputation. My pastor stood, even when it cost him his church. My pastor stood, even when it cost him his safety. What about you? What about the pastors in your church? Are they not the very oppressors we are talking about? If so, call them out. Expose them. Let’s rid the church of such men.
And to these oppressors, your names remain hidden for now. But when the time is right, justice will not miss you. If your pastor steals, then yes, he should be called out. But if he stands for truth and is persecuted for it, then silence is complicity.
The question is, will you speak up, or will you be like the cowards who betrayed him?
AUTHOR: Ogungbile Emmanuel Oludotun
Articles published in our Graffiti section are strictly the opinion of the writers and do not represent the views of Ripples Nigeria or its editorial stand.
Source: Ripples Nigeria
