From Revolt to Redemption: A Call to Selfless Service at the Higher Life Conference

The conference was a beacon of light, drawing thousands to hear the Word of God through Pastor Chris, a vessel whose ministry has wrought wonders across the globe. Among those summoned to serve were student ushers, many of whom saw this as a golden opportunity—not just to stand in the presence of God’s anointing, but to secure financial gain. These young ones, largely from the Gen Z fold, were offered something far greater than silver or gold: the Word of God, potent enough to shift a soul from striving for mammon to resting in divine provision. Yet, within 24 hours, a revolt erupted, shaking the foundations of what should have been a sacred moment.

These students, some qualified for stipends and others who never even joined the ushering team, united in a chorus of discontent. They took to the digital streets, spewing vitriol online with a uniformity that left me shaking my head in dismay. How could they, I wondered, so quickly trade the eternal for the temporal? Their posts were laden with accusations, their words dripping with a materialism that belied the spiritual heritage they’d been invited to partake in. They threatened to wield WhatsApp TV—a platform where news spreads like wildfire through status updates—to blackmail Christ Embassy, a ministry that has tirelessly sown seeds of love and transformation.

Have they forgotten so soon? Loveworld Global Fellowship, the outstretched arm of this ministry, has etched its mark of compassion on countless lives. I recall the days at ETF Garden, where palliatives flowed freely to thousands of students, a gesture that warmed their hearts and bellies alike. My dear friend Muphasa and I returned there, driven by love, to distribute even more, ensuring no student was left wanting. And at the College of Nursing Gwagwalada, Loveworld’s generosity shines bright—pragmatic fans and air conditioners hum in the hostels, turning common rooms into havens of comfort and light. These acts of kindness were not mere charity; they were testaments to a fellowship rooted in Christ’s love.

Yet, the students’ revolt grew uglier. They slid into the DMs of influencers and podcasters, railing against the very church they claimed as their own. To them, Christianity was reduced to a hollow religion, a transactional arrangement devoid of the living reality of Christ. They forgot the altar that halted COVID-19 in its tracks, the same altar where a girl, crippled for eight years, rose and walked, and a House of Representatives member found healing. These miracles, wrought through Pastor Chris’ ministry, were swept aside in their clamor for payment.

Their words—gullible, unattractive, and brash—targeted Loveworld Global Fellowship, oblivious to the grace awaiting them. For even amid their rebellion, the Stomach Infrastructure Disbursement Intervention Funds stood ready, poised to bless every student who attended the conference. Through the “Much Much Love Loveworld Global Fellowship” initiative, they needed only to engage the ministry’s social media handles with the Word to receive credit—a gesture of love, not obligation. The Intervention Funds board has already begun its disbursement, a quiet rebuke to their uproar, proving that God’s goodness persists even when we falter.

As a priestly voice, I counsel those who desire to labor in God’s house: do not come seeking wages, no matter how hunger gnaws. To report to the world that we must be paid for serving God is to miss the greater reward—the blessings and power woven into His Word. Yes, through GTN, palliatives reached all students, but the call remains: return to selfless service. Many now sit remorseful, their eyes perhaps opening to their error. But I urge them—and all of us—to fix our gaze on the second coming of Jesus Christ, a reality far weightier than what we shall eat or drink.

The Upward and Forward Only Higher Life Conference was a clarion call to rise above the mundane, yet it revealed a generation tethered to the earth. Let us learn from this. Let us serve not for gain, but for the glory of the One who gave all. For in His presence, we find not just provision, but purpose—and that is the truest consolation of all.