The Two Sides
One is struck, I wrote in Nairobi, by the explosion of religiosity in the whole of Africa. It was one of the novel features of the World Social Forum at Nairobi. It is also the overwhelming feeling in Nigeria.
Traversing the streets of Lagos, one is astonished by the variety of names describing different church denominations: the Lion of Judah, the Church of Joshua, the Redeemed Church of Christ. It is an impossible task keeping track of all the names. I am sorry I cannot recollect the full name of a group that struck me with its pointed practicality: the church's name indicated that its followers were promised a job.
The number of banners on the road hanging from pedestrian bridges and announcing youth conventions, or famous preachers who will address forthcoming events is mind-boggling. I must confess that most looked jaded and old.
It is not only the seemingly endless variety of church names that catches one's attention at every street corner, but also the brazenness of some public posters. On my way to the airport I was questioned by a huge advertising board announcing in red capital letters engulfed in fire that 'hell is real' and Christ is the only saviour.
The mushrooming of Christian sects is, as a social researcher noted, one of the most astounding missionary movements in recent times There must be some interesting African studies on the causes and effects of this religious phenomenon. While this exuberant manifestation does express popular religiosity and an experience of the transcendent, it also offers the negative side of religion. It is as if we are always forced to return to this ambivalent role played by religion in the life of individuals and communities.
This most dubious side is the claim made by many Pentecostal churches and movements that they are the dispensers of material prosperity as a sign of God's blessing and of God's presence in one's life. In most cases, prosperity is seen as an individual characteristic, or as bestowed only on a particular group or community, to the exclusion of others. It is similar to the traditional perception of redemption as an individual phenomenon or as the privilege of a chosen group of people. This conception of the church as the congregation of the prosperous discards almost automatically those 'failed' members: the victims, the excluded and the poor; those not included in the list, or those who have not managed to enter the club of prosperous citizens. Their number is legion if one goes by average income figures. The category of ‘prosperous’ is highly discriminatory in most societies.
This, antithetical to Gospel values as it may be, is not the worst effect of religion. Prosperity as an individual or groupal quality fosters the development of 'my' career, 'my' job, 'my' own house--however guarded by high walls it might have to be-- 'my' own well, 'my' own electricity generator’…and the list continues in an endless dream.
The tragedy of this self-centred, self-seeking and self-satisfying approach to life is that it precludes forcefully the notion of a public or social good. The obsessive desire to get a generator in my compound is accompanied by a cool unconcern about the negligence of a State department that keeps most of its citizens most of the time, without electricity. The conception of the 'public good', of the State's responsibility for a public stewardship of resources is incompatible with a religious preaching that favours prosperity as God's blessing. Christian ethics and Catholic Social Teaching are inextricably linked to the idea of a 'common good' for all. It is the State's main responsibility to provide for it. No wonder that the state appears to be happy supporting this type of religiosity.
We need to remember, however, both sides of the coin. Religion does provide a sense of the beyond and helps to live life with hope. Clear-cut conclusions are not always right.
Fernando Franco SJ
12 February 2007