The skill they never teach in church

Ask what a megachurch is actually built for, and the answer is growth. More branches, more countries, more people in seats. Sermon topics, worship style, building projects, the social media push. All of it comes down to one question: does this bring more people? Nobody says it that plainly, but that’s what it is.

Which makes it, structurally, the same kind of thing as Google. Or any product optimising for retention and engagement.

Google counts users. A church counts attendance. Even the words match up. What a startup calls user acquisition, church calls evangelism. Retention is whether you come back next Sunday. Referral is bring somebody with you. Onboarding is the new members class. Churn is backsliding. Lifetime value is your tithe. And two words don’t need translating at all: conversion and testimonial. Same goal, different lingo.

I’m not criticising. Anything that size organises around its own growth, because an institution that stops growing eventually dies. But it does mean the stated purpose, save souls, disciple people, build faith, ends up as a byproduct of expansion rather than what the original aim was.

Here’s what got me thinking about this. When a church grows from one room to branches in other countries, people often credit the wrong thing. They point at the General Overseer and call it anointing. Favour. Grace. God said so.

Nobody talks about the skill. Knowing money. Knowing how crowds behave. Knowing how to raise funds, deal with government, run operations in different countries. That didn’t come from heaven. That’s skill, the same skill it takes to build anything big, and it’s a lot of hard work.

I believe in God. I think life can be spiritual and people do have real encounters. But miracles are the exception, not how you run an organisation. You don’t build something that size on “he was called” alone. And when we pretend it was only God, two things happen. Real skill gets no credit. And everybody watching learns to wait for a miracle instead of learning something.

To the church, you’re a number. Same as an app with a hundred thousand users. You’re one of the millions, not the one.

Meanwhile you just want your life to work. You want to eat, take care of your people, find some community and some hope after a hard week. Nothing wrong with that. That’s why most people go.

But what you often get is “there’s a demon, it’s broken in Jesus’ name” for a problem that needed a plan. Things you could sit down, look at honestly and fix slowly get prayed over instead. Then when nothing changes, it becomes your fault. Not enough faith. You didn’t sow enough. You didn’t fast. You don’t study the word.

And that’s the part I can’t be at peace with.

Photo by Vince Fleming on Unsplash

RCCG should have fixed this already. For anyone outside Nigeria, that’s the Redeemed Christian Church of God, one of the biggest churches in the world, with a parish on almost every street. The idea is good. You get a small church where the pastor knows you, and you still belong to something big.

It doesn’t feel like that where I attend. Feels like the local parish exists mainly to feed you into the bigger vision, the bigger convention, the next camp meeting, more than to be its own real community. The church is close by but it never feels personal.

Maybe not every parish is like that. Maybe the ones where the pastor has real room to lead his own people are just rare.

Someone posted that they learned videography, public speaking and sound engineering in church, all free. That’s true and I agree with it. Church has taught plenty of people their first useful skill. It teaches those things because it needs them to run.

But there’s one skill they never teach, and it’s the one the whole thing is built on. How to gather people and keep them coming. How to make sure they show up again next week and bring someone with them.

You watch it happen every week and nobody calls it a lesson. They call it church.

If they said it plainly, people would see it clearly. That’s probably why nobody says it. “Come and learn how to gather a crowd and make money from it” doesn’t pull people the way “come and receive your miracle” does.

Either you get a million people to pay you 100 naira, or a hundred people to pay you a million. The people who understand that are usually the ones on stage.

I know what some of you will say…

“You’re reducing faith to cynicism.”

I’m not saying it’s fake. I’m saying it’s both. Something can be real and spiritual and still run on ordinary business rules.

“Skill and calling aren’t opposites.”

I agree, and that’s my point. I’m not saying the skill proves there’s no calling. I’m saying people only talk about the calling and never the skill, as if admitting the man is good at this insults God. Both of them built that church. Only one gets mentioned.

“You’re speaking from outside.”

I grew up in this. I’m inside something I’ve sat in my whole life. Being close to something doesn’t stop you from seeing how it works.

“Every institution needs numbers to survive.”

True, and I said so. Hospitals, schools and NGOs all count. My problem isn’t that a church counts. My problem is when growth becomes the real goal while they still tell you the old one, and your actual needs come second.

I’m not saying anybody should leave. I’m not exactly leaving . I don’t think the spiritual part is fake, and I’d rather people sit with other people than deal with their problems alone.

I just want it said plainly. Tell me the number you’re chasing and why. Teach me the skill you’re already using on me. And when a decision is just a decision, say that, instead of telling me God said it.