Nagaland has long been described as a Christian majority state. Our history is filled with accounts of revival movements, mass conversions and a people once known for their zeal in prayer, fasting and worship. Churches are still among the most visible buildings in every town and village. Christian identity remains deeply woven into our culture. Yet, beneath this impressive surface lies an unsettling question, have Nagas lost their hunger for God? This question is not meant as an accusation but as an honest reflection of the condition of our faith. Hunger for God is not measured by how many times we attend church but by the depth of our desire to know Him, to walk in His truth and to live transformed lives. It is about the inner fire that sustains spiritual life. If that hunger fades, everything else becomes hollow.
Faith without fire: Today, Christianity has become an inheritance rather than an encounter. It is received at birth, confirmed through rituals and maintained as part of our collective identity. But what often gets lost is the personal, life-changing experience of meeting God in a way that transforms heart and character. Older generations still recall revival days when people wept in repentance, when prayer meetings stretched late into the night and when faith produced visible change in society. Today, the landscape looks different. Bible studies feel routine, prayer gatherings struggle with attendance and worship services can feel more like performances than encounters with the divine. This is not to say there is no faith among us. But a fire once burning with intensity seems to have cooled into embers. A religion without passion risks becoming a tradition without power.
Comfort over conviction: Nagaland is not the same society it was decades ago. With the spread of technology, our lives are more comfortable than ever before. But with comfort often comes complacency. The hunger that once drove people to cry out to God during times of hardship is replaced today with new desires. These pursuits are not wrong in themselves but they often displace the deeper hunger for God’s presence. Even in churches, the atmosphere reflects this shift. Sermons are sometimes tailored more to keep people comfortable than to convict hearts. Worship services are well organized but carefully timed so as not to inconvenience or replacing serious engagement with God’s Word with light programs designed to keep attendance up. It is easy to become full with lesser things and lose appetite for what truly sustains the soul.
The danger of a full stomach: The Bible repeatedly warns that prosperity can dull spiritual hunger. In Deuteronomy 8:10–14, Moses warned Israel that once they entered the Promised Land and enjoyed abundance, they might forget the God who brought them out of slavery. This warning feels painfully relevant to our context. There was a time when material scarcity pushed us to our knees. With little else to depend on, people turned to God in desperate prayer. Today, with more financial resources, digital tools and opportunities our dependence on God seems weaker. A “full stomach” society does not always feel the need to seek divine provision. Ironically, the very blessings once prayed for can become the reason we stop praying.
Signs of lost hunger: The signs that we may have lost our hunger for God are not hard to see. Prayer is often carried out without passion, more of an obligation than an outpouring of desire. We know Bible verses and can quote them readily, yet they seldom shape our daily ethics or challenge our choices. Churches are growing in numbers but remain divided by tribalism, politics and suspicion. Faith is professed loudly but it is often separated from how we conduct business, lead institutions or treat one another. These contradictions suggest that while religion is alive in form, its hunger has withered in substance.
The way back to hunger: Yet losing hunger is not irreversible. The first step back is honesty admitting that beneath the noise and activity, we are not as spiritually alive as we appear. Revival does not begin in the crowd but in individuals willing to confess their emptiness before God. From that honesty comes repentance, the turning away from complacency and self-sufficiency toward dependence on Him again.
The way back also requires a personal encounter with God. Parents’ faith cannot substitute for their children’s walk; each generation must discover God for themselves. Churches can nurture this by teaching Scripture with depth, creating space for authentic prayer and mentoring young people in ways that go beyond entertainment. Hunger is rekindled not by multiplying programs but by returning to simplicity in terms of prayer, Scripture, fellowship and obedience. And finally, true hunger expresses itself in action. It does not stop at feelings but flows into a life that embodies justice, mercy and compassion. When faith moves beyond words into transformation, hunger finds its purpose.
A question for our future: If the flame of desire for God dies, then the dream of a Christ-centered Nagaland will remain only a slogan, grand in words but hollow in reality. Our future depends not on the number of churches we build or the size of our gatherings but on whether individuals and communities recover their hunger for God. Without that hunger, religion will continue as form without power, noise without depth and culture without transformation. But if even a small remnant begins to thirst again for God’s presence, the spark could spread and awaken a generation. Then, the question is not simply about the past we have inherited but the future we are shaping: will Nagas remain satisfied with a comfortable, cultural Christianity or will we choose to hunger again for the living God?
~ Dr. Bendangliba Andrew
