By Oyewole O. Sarumi
Every generation of the Church is tempted to fight the wrong battles with great enthusiasm while neglecting the ones that actually matter. History records this pattern repeatedly: loud condemnation of peripheral symbols alongside a disturbing silence over internal decay.
From the Pharisees of Jesus’ day to the ecclesiastical establishments of medieval Europe, the Church has often demonstrated an uncanny ability to strain at gnats while swallowing camels.
The recent controversy involving the Christian Association of Nigeria (CAN), the film industry, the cultural phenomenon popularly called “Detty December,” and actress Ini Edo’s emotional appeal offers a revealing case study of this old problem in new clothing.
It is not merely a dispute over a movie title or festive semantics. It is a mirror reflecting deeper questions about Christian moral priorities, institutional courage, cultural engagement, and the credibility of public Christian witness in Nigeria.
At stake here is not simply whether a film title offends Christian sensibilities. What is at stake is whether the Church still understands the difference between symbolic offense and substantive corruption; between cultural discomfort and doctrinal betrayal; between optics and ethics.
In short, we must ask whether Nigerian Christianity is still concerned with the weightier matters of the gospel, justice, truth, integrity, and love, or whether it has settled for policing titles while tolerating fraud, manipulation, and moral hypocrisy within its own ranks.
Detty December and the Anxiety of Cultural Influence
“Detty December” has evolved into a global label for Nigeria’s festive season, an export of music, fashion, tourism, and nightlife. Economically, it is no small matter. Industry estimates suggest that December festivities contribute billions of naira annually to hospitality, entertainment, and creative sectors, drawing diaspora Nigerians and foreign tourists in unprecedented numbers. Lagos, Abuja, and other urban centers effectively become cultural capitals during this period.
Yet for many Christians, the phrase has become shorthand for moral excess: drunkenness, sexual promiscuity, ostentatious living, and the commercialization of pleasure. These concerns are not without merit. Christianity has always wrestled with how to live faithfully within festive cultures that often promote indulgence. From Roman Saturnalia to modern holiday consumerism, believers have consistently struggled to balance joy with restraint.
However, the anxiety surrounding Detty December reveals a deeper confusion: the tendency to collapse complex social realities into simplistic moral labels. When cultural critique degenerates into reactionary outrage, it often loses moral credibility. Worse still, it distracts from the Church’s own unresolved contradictions.
Ini Edo, Tears, and the Politics of Religious Offense
The image of a prominent actress publicly pleading, in tears, for religious approval is striking, and troubling. It evokes a power imbalance that should give Christians pause. When an artist feels compelled to appeal emotionally to a religious body to preserve her livelihood, we must ask what kind of moral authority is being exercised and to what end.
Ini Edo’s central defense was straightforward: the film’s content does not mock Christianity; its title reflects social realities within the Nigerian context. She went further, inviting scrutiny and offering to amend the title if genuine offense could be demonstrated. This response, measured and conciliatory, contrasts sharply with the initial threat of suppression.
At this point, a fundamental question arises: since when did CAN become a de facto film censorship authority? Nigeria already has statutory bodies charged with regulating film content. If a movie violates national ethical standards, there are legal pathways for redress. Religious pressure, outside these frameworks, risks substituting moral persuasion with institutional coercion.
Christian ethics has never endorsed the use of power to silence culture; it calls instead for witness, persuasion, and truth-speaking. The early Church conquered the Roman world not by banning plays but by embodying a radically different way of life.
Selective Moral Outrage and the Crisis of Credibility
While CAN deserves acknowledgment for defending Christianity against mockery where such mockery genuinely exists, the credibility of that defense is weakened by a glaring pattern of selective outrage. Nigerian Christianity is currently facing crises far more corrosive than provocative movie titles.
There have been documented cases of staged miracles, manipulated testimonies, and fraudulent prophetic claims, some exposed through video evidence and firsthand confessions. Investigative journalists, whistleblowers, and even former church insiders have revealed how vulnerable congregants are sometimes exploited financially and psychologically under the guise of divine intervention.
Yet, on these matters, CAN’s voice has often been conspicuously muted. This silence is not neutral; it communicates priorities. When the Church reacts swiftly to cultural symbols but hesitates to discipline internal corruption, it sends an unmistakable message: image matters more than integrity.
Jesus’ rebuke of the religious leaders of His time remains hauntingly relevant: “You tithe mint and dill and cumin, and have neglected the weightier matters of the law, justice, mercy, and faithfulness” (Matthew 23:23). The issue was not that they cared about details, but that their attention to details served as a cover for moral neglect.
The Weightier Matters: Justice, Truth, and Accountability
Christian theology has always emphasized that leadership carries moral weight. The New Testament places extraordinary ethical demands on those who lead God’s people. Paul’s instructions to Timothy and Titus are unequivocal: a bishop must be above reproach, self-controlled, not greedy, not violent, faithful in family life, and respected by outsiders.
The early Church Fathers echoed this insistence relentlessly. John Chrysostom warned that corrupt clergy do more harm to the gospel than open enemies. Augustine argued that the Church’s holiness is not proven by its rituals but by the moral credibility of its shepherds. Gregory the Great described pastoral office as a “dangerous height,” from which failure causes catastrophic damage.
The Puritans later sharpened this ethic. Richard Baxter famously wrote that ministers must preach with their lives as loudly as with their words, lest they “undo with one hand what they build with the other.” Leadership failure was never treated as a private matter; it was a communal wound.
Against this theological background, the modern tendency to excuse, minimize, or spiritually reframe ethical misconduct among prominent ministers is indefensible.
Miracles, Markets, and Manufactured Faith
Nothing has done more to erode public trust in Nigerian Christianity than the commercialization of the miraculous. While the New Testament affirms divine healing and supernatural intervention, it never divorces miracles from truth, humility, and accountability.
In contrast, contemporary religious spectacle often operates like a market economy: miracles as products, anointed items as commodities, and prophetic access as a premium service. Security details, luxury convoys, and aggressive branding sit uneasily beside gospel claims of sacrificial love and servant leadership.
Empirical research into religious economies in Africa shows a strong correlation between economic precarity and susceptibility to miracle-centered theology. This makes ethical responsibility all the more urgent. To exploit desperation is not merely bad theology; it is moral violence.
The tragedy is not that people believe in miracles. The tragedy is that the Church sometimes rewards those who counterfeit them.
Doctrinal Incoherence and Institutional Silence
Beyond ethical failures, there is a growing doctrinal incoherence within Nigerian Christianity. Churches that self-identify as Christian while rejecting foundational doctrines such as the Trinity, the Incarnation, or the significance of Easter operate without meaningful theological accountability.
Historically, councils, synods, and confessions existed precisely to prevent such fragmentation. While Christianity allows for diversity of expression, it does not permit the abandonment of its core truths without consequence.
CAN, as an umbrella body, is uniquely positioned to convene serious theological dialogue, establish doctrinal boundaries, and promote informed disagreement rather than public confusion. Its reluctance to do so reinforces the perception that institutional Christianity prefers surface unity to substantive faithfulness.
Christmas, Culture, and the Irony of “Dirty” Faith
If Christmas is to be defended, it must be defended honestly. Nothing has made Christianity appear more compromised in the public imagination than religious leaders who preach holiness while practicing opulence, who sell protection while living behind armed guards, who condemn cultural excess while indulging in ecclesiastical luxury.
The irony is painful: the faith that proclaims a crucified Savior is increasingly represented by untouchable elites. In such a context, moral outrage over a film title feels tragically misplaced.
The gospel does not need protection from artists nearly as much as it needs defense against internal hypocrisy.
The Arrest of the Accuser and the Scandal of Power
Perhaps the most disturbing element in recent controversies is the allegation that accusers of powerful church leaders have been silenced through intimidation or arrest. If true, such actions represent a catastrophic betrayal of Christian ethics.
The biblical tradition consistently protects the vulnerable against the powerful. The prophets condemned those who “turn aside the needy in the gate.” The early Church insisted on fair hearing and communal discernment. The idea that ecclesiastical influence could be weaponized against truth-tellers is a scandal that demands urgent investigation. These are weightier matters where CAN intervention is required.
Silencing accusation is not the same as establishing innocence. On the contrary, it deepens suspicion and corrodes moral authority.
What the Church Must Recover
The Church in Nigeria does not lack influence, numbers, or resources. What it risks losing is moral clarity. Recovering that clarity requires courage: the courage to discipline its own, to speak truth without favoritism, to resist the seduction of power, and to refocus on the heart of the gospel.
Christian witness has always thrived not through control of culture but through integrity within it. When believers lived differently, loving the poor, honoring truth, refusing corruption, the world took notice.
Choosing the Harder Faith
The controversy over Detty Christmas and a movie title will pass. Another cultural flashpoint will replace it. But the deeper question will remain: will the Church continue to fight symbolic battles while ignoring structural sin, or will it reclaim the harder, costlier faith of moral accountability?
The gospel calls not for louder outrage but for deeper repentance; not for institutional dominance but for spiritual credibility. Until Nigerian Christianity confronts its internal contradictions with honesty and humility, no amount of cultural policing will restore its witness.
As Christ Himself warned, it is possible to gain the whole world of religious influence and yet forfeit the soul of the faith. The weightier matters still await our attention.