The Case (or not) for Nigerian Pentecostal Prophecies
Generally speaking, prophecy is a revelation or message that has been inspired by a deity. To be more exact, a prophet (Greek prophētēs, “foreteller”) is a person who believes that he has been sent by his god to deliver a message. As such, prophecy has been a feature of most religions, ancient and modern.
Today, whenever we say prophecy, we usually mean a “prediction of the future,” especially one that is a result of communication with a god and, as such, couldn’t have come from common sense or expert human insight. When such prophecies come true, believers pronounce it as proof that their prophet was indeed the mouthpiece of the divine.
Truly, a string of clear prophetic warnings about, say, the 2023 earthquake in Turkey, the Twin Towers attack in 2001, or, in your case, if you are Nigerian, the Sportybet codes for accumulator bets that net you a couple of millions with your ₦200, would make me strongly suspect that such a prophet has superhuman insight, to say the least.
Such insight appears to be lacking among the popular religious leaders who regularly make prophecies in Nigeria, in any case. A well-known instance is the 2016 decree by Pst. Adeboye, of the Redeemed Christian Church of God:
So far, the Naira has refused to listen, field as it is by macro- and microeconomic decisions, rather than some will of a deity and his mouthpiece.
But my aim today is not to show the ineffectual nature of prophecies made by Pentecostal and non-Pentecostal religious figures in Nigeria, such a nature is already well known to all but the followers of each figure. Instead, I want to examine the features of some of their utterances.
Our example will be the declarations for this year, made by Pst. E.A. Adeboye, the leader of what is probably the largest Christian Pentecostal following in Nigeria.
The prophecies rely heavily on vague pronouncements and open-ended interpretations. A central theme, according to Pst. Adeboye, is the notion that “the wind is blowing,” a metaphor that could signify anything from change, upheaval, or even opportunity. This by itself, renders the prophecies meaningless without further clarification. What kind of wind? Where is it blowing from, and where will it take us?
The pronouncements are a curious blend of optimism and pessimism. On the one hand, he suggests that things will get worse before they get better in Nigeria, a very common trope echoed in forecasts throughout history, with little predictive value. On the other hand, he says that the wind ultimately signifies a potential for positive change. “Sooner or later, things will get better,” he declared, prophetically. Big deal! In effect, he hedges his prophecies, allowing them to remain plausible regardless of the actual events that unfold.
Similarly, the prophecies directed at individuals offer little concrete guidance. They suggest that some unknown individuals will rise to prominence this year but provide no clues about who these people might be or the nature of their significance. Additionally, the promise of “many opportunities” is a common refrain in self-help and motivational circles, offering little predictive power specific to this year. What sort of opportunities? For whom? How do we determine what counts as “many”? You get the gist.
The “International prophecies” suffer from similar shortcomings. The prediction of “divine intervention” in troubled areas is inherently subjective and impossible to objectively measure. I mean, what counts as “divine intervention”? Medical breakthroughs are a constant pursuit in the scientific community, so prophesying them in general terms (with examples of areas of medical research no less, rather than the actual problems on which breakthroughs will be recorded) is rather, well, unprophetic. The only difference between these and those of Nostradamus is that at least Nostradamus is more interesting to read, using rhymes as it did. As for ambiguity, they tussle for the top rankings.
These prophecies, while perhaps comforting in their hopeful pronouncements, hold little weight as verifiable predictions. Their reliance on vague pronouncements and a mix of positive and negative outcomes allows them to remain plausible regardless of the actual course of events. True prophecies, if they exist, would offer specific details and verifiable outcomes. Take a look at Elisha dropping the price of bread in 2 Kings 7:
“Elisha replied [to the king of Israel], “Hear the word of the Lord. This is what the Lord says: About this time tomorrow, a seah of the finest flour will sell for a shekel and two seahs of barley for a shekel at the gate of Samaria.” The officer on whose arm the king was leaning said to the man of God, “Look, even if the Lord should open the floodgates of the heavens, could this happen?” “You will see it with your own eyes,” answered Elisha, “but you will not eat any of it!””
As the rest of the chapter shows, this is what happened. For some reason, the standard for prophecy has fallen low.
