Church should be the place where burdens feel lighter and hearts feel safe. It is where people seek peace after a long week of battles—internal and external. But what happens when the very individuals meant to serve, uplift, and guide become the very source of hurt? What happens when the ministry entrusted to lead souls closer to God starts pushing them away through pride, gossip, and silent cruelty?
In too many ministries today, toxicity isn't loud—it's subtle. It hides behind smiles, titles, and rehearsed holiness. And yet, its impact is heavy.
There is backstabbing among ministry members, whispered comments masked as "concern." There is backstabbing among religious persons, whose criticisms cut deeper because they come from those who should embody compassion.
There is abuse of authority, where leadership turns into entitlement. There is the spreading of false information, reckless words that damage reputations and mental well-being. These aren't accidents. These are choices.
And of course, the infamous greeting: "Buhay ka pa pala?" Said with a laugh, but meant to shame. Yes, consistency is vital in service. But so is basic respect. When said by a fellow member, it stings. When said by a religious leader, it wounds. It doesn't inspire commitment—it triggers self-doubt and humiliation.
Then comes the most hurtful accusation of all: being told that you're serving only to flirt or clout chase. As if devotion were merely a social strategy. As if your presence in the ministry were nothing but a performance. These accusations reveal more about the accuser's mindset than the accused. They are degrading, unnecessary, and deeply unfair. They discourage sincerity. They poison service.
Faith is powerful. Faith can save lives. But when a servant becomes toxic, faith becomes distorted. Ministry becomes unsafe. Service becomes draining instead of fulfilling. And the damage is not just emotional; it is spiritual.
Mental health awareness should not end in October. It should echo through every ministry, every meeting, every interaction. The Church teaches compassion, mercy, and understanding—so why do some servants choose cruelty, gossip, and arrogance?
Let this be clear: This is not an attack on the Church. This is a call for integrity within it. I am Catholic. I serve. And it hurts to admit that sometimes, the very people preaching humility are the ones who wield their words like weapons. But naming the problem is the first step toward healing.
Calling out toxic behavior is not rebellion—it is responsibility. Correcting toxic members is not disrespect—it is safeguarding the ministry's purpose. Demanding kindness is not weakness—it is faith lived out honestly.
If the Church is truly a home, then its servants must stop becoming obstacles at the door. We need humility, not hypocrisy. Edification, not humiliation. Service rooted in love, not ego.
Because when the servant becomes toxic, the ministry's mission collapses, and the faith of others collapses with it.
Written by John Benedict N. Banday, Insight PH
John Benedict N. Banday, Insight PH is a dedicated campus journalist and contributor. Their insightful writing sparks meaningful conversations and keeps the community informed.



