Beneath the swelling crowds, the reverberating songs, and the feverish rush for ordination and planting churches lies a piercing question confronting the modern church: Why do you want to serve God? Is it for His glory alone, or for the subtle enticements of power, fame, wealth, and the adulation of men?
This crisis of motive is not a distant abstraction—it is the epidemic of a generation. The late Dr. Myles Munroe once warned that “the greatest test of character is not adversity, but power, fame, sex, and money. Many have been destroyed not by poverty but by prosperity.” His words slice into the heart of today’s ministerial ambitions, where too many flock to pulpits not to die for Christ but to rise in social stature.
It is no surprise, then, that revival music has become the conscience of the church. Nigerian psalmist Theophilus Sunday, has reignited the call to deeper surrender with his haunting refrain: “Lord, change my motive, kill what is left of me, so only You will be seen.” His cry is more than melody—it is a rebuke to a generation tempted to merchandise the sacred.
From Lagos to London, Abuja to Atlanta, sanctuaries are full, yet motives are thin. In Africa, multitudes surge to altars for miracles, jobs, and breakthroughs. In the West, worshippers flirt with convenience, bending discipleship into lifestyle spirituality. Yet both streams converge in one dangerous shallowness: God becomes a tool for survival or success, rather than the Lord of life.
Prophet T.B. Joshua once cautioned, “If you come only for miracles, you may miss the greatest miracle—the salvation of your soul.” Pastor Chris Oyakhilome added, “Christianity is not a religion of convenience, but a call to die daily.” And in the words of Juanita Bynum, “Until you die to yourself, Christ cannot fully live in you.” These voices converge into a single urgent summons: return to the secret place where motives are purified, stripped of ambition, and consumed by love for God alone.
The reality is sobering. Many are not rushing into ministry because they are burning for souls, but because they are burning for relevance. Some are not seeking ordination to serve Christ, but to secure a platform. Yet the secret place exposes such motives, crucifies them, and births only one desire: to be conformed to the heart of the Lord.
History reminds us that genuine revival has always been purchased at the price of self-death. The martyrs of the early church sang as flames devoured them. Apostle Ayo Babalola withdrew for days of prayer, not for ovatione, but for communion. And today, Theophilus Sunday’s call to “die more and more” is a prophetic ripples of their ancient witness.
This is where God’s love confronts rather than flatters. He is not rejecting His people but correcting them. He is not condemning ministers but calling them home. It is time to retreat from the performance-driven stage and return to the trembling silence of the secret place.
Because when self dies, Christ reigns. When power, fame, wealth, and pride are surrendered, the glory of God fills the vessel. Ask Brother Gbile Akanni, he will testify of great motives before climbing the altar. And when motives are purified, the world sees not us, but Him (Elohim
The question is no longer rhetorical but urgent: Are you dying daily, or are you negotiating with heaven for survival? The future of revival may well rest on how honestly this generation answers.
– Inah Boniface Ocholi writes from Ayah – Igalamela/Odolu LGA, Kogi state.
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