Miracles for sale
By Abraham Nwankwo
From their old churches they decamp in droves,
To sole-proprietored and family-founded ones.
That advertise and hawk miracles;
That buy and convert factories and warehouses;
Into plants of claims and boasts;
In the largely dubious enterprise of born-againism;
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Of “power-packed” manifesto-flaunting campaigners.
If only the upsurge does reflect,
A true moral and spiritual restructuring,
If only the trend does represent,
A sober rededication to the Almighty;
But, alas, it’s all fad and fashion;
A pretense unto a re-discovery,
A ploy to evade responsibility for their past.
As if their failure to achieve righteousness
Was caused by churches they belonged to before,
Rather than the iniquity and wickedness of their hearts.
Some of them materially depressed,
Are allured by vulgar promises of prosperity.
As they preach to them about the crown,
But hide from them the cross so real.
The excitement in trying something new,
The passion to meet with people new,
Even the opportunism to make new canal friends,
Are part of the agenda hidden,
Of the carpet-crossing fortune seekers.
Forgetting that inner contentment remains,
The hallmark of a righteous man.
But what is there of the spiritual left,
If affiliation is changed in pursuit of wealth?
What is there of salvation left,
If a ministry is for commerce founded?
What is there between miracle and magic left,
What is there between light and darkness left,
If churches are run for money?
