In 2010, I walked into Dunamis Bible School with nothing but a burning hunger for God. No title. No entourage. No desire for applause. Just a soul desperate for truth. One morning, Dr. Pastor Paul Enenche stood before us and declared a statement that sliced through every ambition in the room: “The larger your title, the bigger your battle.” That wasn’t a metaphor. It was a warning. A spiritual alarm bell. A divine rebuke to the ego-driven culture that was already creeping into the Church.
Fast forward to today, and that warning has been buried beneath layers of vanity, branding, and spiritual theatrics. We are now witnessing a full-blown epidemic—title addiction. Ministry has been hijacked by a generation obsessed with sounding powerful rather than being powerful. It’s no longer about souls. It’s about status. No longer about service. It’s about self.
I’ve seen people who barely understand Scripture parade themselves with titles that would make angels weep. They call themselves:
– 5-Star General in the Lord’s Army
– Commanding Commander of the Apostolic Realm
– Sniper Prophet of Divine Accuracy
– Chief Apostle of the End-Time Revival
– Archbishop of Fire and Thunder
– Gatekeeper of Celestial Portals
– Captain of the Intercessory Battalion
– Oracle of Fire and Thunder
– Prophetic Terror to the Kingdom of Darkness
– Spiritual Bulldozer of Destiny
– High Priest of the Realm of Glory
– General Overseer of the Apostolic Intelligence Unit
– Master Strategist of Kingdom Warfare
– Chief Protocol Officer of the Holy Ghost
These are not titles—they are idols. Crafted not by heaven, but by human pride. They do not cast out demons. They do not heal the sick. They do not raise the dead. They do not reflect the humility of Christ. They are empty shells—loud, flashy, and spiritually bankrupt.
Jesus—the Son of God, the Lion of Judah, the Word made flesh—never introduced Himself with pomp. He didn’t say, “I am the Supreme Commander of the Messianic Realm.” He said, “I am the way, the truth, and the life.” He washed feet. He embraced the broken. He carried a cross. He died a criminal’s death. And He rose—not with a title, but with power.
But today, we have turned the pulpit into a stage. The altar into a showroom. The Gospel into a brand. And the Church into a marketplace.
The obsession with titles is only the beginning. There is a deeper rot—the craving for money. Ministry has become a business. A hustle. A scheme. Some leaders no longer preach Christ—they sell Him. They demand “sacrificial seeds” with promises of instant miracles. They manipulate emotions. They exploit the poor. They live in obscene luxury while their members drown in poverty.
They charge for prophecies. They monetize deliverance. They sell anointing oil, mantles, and holy water like spiritual merchandise. They stage fake miracles. They fabricate visions. They preach fear to keep people enslaved. They silence questions with threats of curses. They build empires with no accountability. They surround themselves with yes-men and call it “divine order.”
This is not ministry. This is spiritual fraud.
This is not the Gospel. This is witchcraft in robes.
This is not leadership. This is manipulation wrapped in scripture.
In my dialect, we say: “Big name kills dog.”
It means pride destroys purpose.
It means ego is a silent killer.
It means what looks grand may be hollow.
The arrogance with which some now preach the Gospel is nauseating. They speak more of themselves than of Christ. They exalt their own names above the name of Jesus. They crave applause, not anointing. They chase fame, not faithfulness.
But true ministry is not about being seen. It’s about being sent.
It’s not about being celebrated. It’s about being crucified.
It’s not about titles. It’s about tears.
It’s not about power. It’s about purity.
Let us return to the altar. Let us strip away the theatrics. Let us burn the idols of ego. Let us preach Christ—and Him crucified. Let us model the Master, not mimic the marketplace. Let our lives be marked by fruit, not flair. Let heaven recognize us more than men applaud us.
Because when we stand before God, He will not ask for our title.
He will ask for our obedience.
He will ask for our sacrifice.
He will ask for our truth.
The Church is not a circus.
The Gospel is not a commodity.
And ministry is not a performance.
It is time to repent.
It is time to return.
It is time to rebuild.
Let the fire fall again—not on titles, but on truth.
