The altar was never meant to be a battlefield of egos but a sanctuary of healing. Yet, in many congregations today, some fathers in faith have unconsciously turned their pulpits into platforms of intimidation rather than inspiration. As neuroscience continues to unveil the incredible health benefits of genuine worship, the Church must also confront a quieter epidemic within its walls — the misuse of authority that tears rather than builds. True fathers do not drive their children away with harsh words; they draw them home with love.
Science now confirms what the Scriptures have whispered for ages — that church attendance, prayer, and communal worship do more than feed the soul; they heal the body. Regular participation in faith gatherings strengthens neural connections, reduces anxiety, and enhances emotional stability. Worship acts like a spiritual massage to the brain, calming the nervous system and refreshing the body’s chemistry. Harvard researchers have even found that people who attend church regularly live longer and report greater happiness. The human brain, it appears, was designed to respond positively to worship — to rhythm, prayer, and belonging.
But how can the brain find peace when the soul is bruised by the very voice meant to comfort it? The modern pulpit, in some places, has forgotten the gentle rhythm of grace. Fathers who should guide in wisdom now chastise in wrath. The Apostle Paul’s admonition still echoes with holy tenderness: “Fathers, provoke not your children to wrath, but bring them up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord.” (Ephesians 6:4). Leadership is not lordship; it is stewardship. To lead is to serve, to correct in love, to rebuke with mercy, and to heal with humility.
When spiritual fathers tear apart rather than build up, the church’s power is weakened at its roots. Congregants retreat in silence, hearts wounded, minds weary, and bodies carrying invisible burdens. The same church that could have healed their minds now becomes the source of their pain. Neuroscience teaches that emotional wounds alter brain chemistry; harsh words raise cortisol levels, causing stress and mental fatigue. But tender speech, empathy, and encouragement release serotonin and oxytocin — the hormones of healing and connection. Simply put, love restores what anger destroys.
A true father in faith must learn the art of exhortation — correction clothed in compassion. The language of heaven is not cruelty but care. The voice that guides must not thunder endlessly in condemnation but sing softly in restoration. Even God, the Father of all, disciplines with patience, not pride. His goal has never been to break His children but to build them stronger. When a pastor corrects with love, he becomes both shepherd and healer, both leader and lifter.
The church of tomorrow will not be remembered for the noise of its sermons but for the warmth of its hearts. The fathers who will stand as beacons in this age are not those who command obedience through fear but those who inspire transformation through tenderness. For what is leadership if not the power to make others whole? The brain responds to love, the body thrives under peace, and the spirit blossoms in encouragement.
Fathers in faith, therefore, must reclaim the gentleness of Christ. Let your words become wings, not weapons; balm, not bullets. Exhort your sons and daughters with hope, not humiliation. For when you nurture rather than lord, when you build rather than break, the house of God becomes both hospital and home — a place where the mind is healed, the soul is lifted, and the body rejoices.
In this convergence of sacred science and divine calling lies a timeless truth: healing flows where love leads. And the true father, the Christlike father, does not scatter the sheep — he gathers them, gently, back into grace.
– Inah Boniface Ocholi writes from Ayah – Igalamela/Odolu LGA, Kogi state.
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