#wegotmail: The ‘divine’ dilemma

“WHAT would Jesus do?” is a question many of us ask ourselves when faced with a difficult moral choice. It’s a simple yet profound question that makes us think about what we can do, rooted in what is right, just, healthy, and beautiful. But what happens when the self-proclaimed “Appointed Son of God,” Apollo Quiboloy, faces a legal and moral crisis of his own? Shouldn’t he be asking himself the same question? Or is the divine title enough to exempt him from earthly accountability?

As Quiboloy’s impending arrest looms large over his “Kingdom” in Davao, the question arises: What should a man of such supposed divine stature do? Should he, like Jesus, confront his accusers with steadfastness and transparency, or should he continue to evade the justice system that he claims is above all but, mystically, beneath him? Jesus, when accused—even wrongly—stood trial and faced the wrath of the religious authorities of Jerusalem and the Roman government with a quiet dignity that has inspired billions. Quiboloy, on the other hand, seems to have chosen a different path, one more befitting a fugitive than a figure of sainthood, at least as far as the recent confrontation at the KOJC compound is concerned.

Let’s look at some pertinent questions that Quiboloy might ask himself or has already asked himself in the context of the age-old lifehack: “What would Jesus do?” For example, when Jesus was betrayed and handed over to the authorities, he accepted his fate without resistance, despite having the power to summon legions of angels or escape with his disciples. So why does Quiboloy, despite claiming to be innocent, resist so fiercely? What is he afraid of if he truly walks in the light?

The courts have called and the world watches as Quiboloy’s empire teeters. The U.S. has released arrest warrants and charges of sexual abuse, child exploitation and human trafficking hang heavy on his name. The charges are not just serious; they are horrific. Yet Quiboloy remains stubborn, his flock defending themselves and proclaiming his innocence as if the mere proclamation would be enough to dismiss all charges. But if Jesus himself submitted to earthly authorities, and even the mere mortal senator Leila de Lima followed his example, shouldn’t the “Word of God” preacher Quiboloy also walk the talk? What example does it set when a leader evades the justice system under the guise of divine immunity or political inquisition?

Perhaps we all remember that Jesus walked a path of humility, rejecting worldly wealth and power and living as a carpenter with a kingdom that is not of this world. So how does Quiboloy reconcile his lavish lifestyle—his real estate collection, diamond doorknob, and fleet of luxury cars—with the teachings of the man he claims to represent? If he sincerely believes in the divine justice he preaches, shouldn’t he also embrace the humility and accountability that comes with it?

And what about the other senators and personalities who support Quiboloy in this stalemate? Their defense of him raises questions about their integrity and intentions. Are they truly motivated by a concern for religious freedom, or is it a more cynical calculation that revolves around spin, budget cuts, displays of power and votes? Are they protecting Quiboloy because they believe in his immaculateness or because they owe him favors or are asking for favors from the past or the future?

Furthermore, if Quiboloy is indeed the “Owner of the Universe” as he claims, why would he fear an earthly authority? Shouldn’t a man with divine backing and power be able to confront mere mortals without hesitation? And yet, to many, Quiboloy’s actions seem like those of a man with something to hide, not the “Second Coming of Christ” with a clear conscience. Some say his self-proclaimed divinity seems more like a shield from accountability than a reflection of true holiness. Whether or not this is true depends on what happens in the next apocalyptic events yet to come.

Ultimately, the question remains: What would Jesus do? Would he avoid the courts or stand firm in the face of false accusations? Would he amass wealth or live a life of simplicity and service? Would he use his influence to manipulate political systems or expose wrongs and injustices wherever he saw them? Quiboloy, who also claims to be “the way, the truth, and the life,” must ask himself these questions, or perhaps he already has, if he truly believes in the path of righteousness.

Imagine how prophetic it would be if the ending story was that Quiboloy was ultimately found innocent by supernatural grace. Isn’t this the kind of justice you would want if they were innocent and godly? Isn’t this the kind of Biblical story you need to confirm his holiness among his flock? Why not go to court and let this sacred saga unfold, and show the world that the “man of God” can stand the test of both heaven and earth? After all, truth and divine justice will surely be on your side if you are who you claim to be.

– Herman M. Lagon