Bro. Joel Alfonso’s Exit: The Story They Tried to Bury

When a regular member leaves MCGI, the default accusation is always the same—“TIKTIK.”

But when a deacon with twenty-two years of service walks out and names the system itself as the problem, that script collapses on impact. The “tiktik” narrative doesn’t just lose its force. It exposes how fragile the whole MCGI Cares narrative actually is.

Joel Alfonso’s account is not outside speculation. It is an insider’s map of how MCGI defends its corrupt leadership, reshapes doctrine and suppresses dissent via pre-emptive character assassination long before the public ever hears a word.

Bro. Joel Alfonso appearing at Facebook Live with Jr. Badong

Alfonso traces everything back to one shift. He heard a church worker's denial on the Area 52 issue, about the alcohol rumors and internal contradictions with explanations that kept changing.

For him, the scandal itself was secondary. The real problem was the instinct to protect one man rather than protect the truth.

He recalls the early days of MCGI that encouraged questions, verification and debate. Over time he saw that culture replaced with suspicion. Doubt became a defect. Inquiry became a sign of rebellion.

The reversal convinced him that doctrine was no longer serving faith but shielding a leader who could not withstand scrutiny.

The Cost of Asking Why

When he began asking questions, the response did not involve scripture or clarification. The worker apparatus moved instead. He was branded unstable, influenced by evil and spiritually compromised. These labels did not come from new members. They came from workers tasked to silence anyone who disrupted the narrative.

Alfonso explains that his wife was called into meetings without him. MCGI church workers framed his questions as spiritual danger, not legitimate concerns. This pattern, the weaponization of family tension used as pressure mirrors many exit stories. Inside the structure he describes, church workers defend leadership first and doctrine only when convenient.

Bro. Joel Alfonso MCGI ID

The Obvious Patterns of Profit-Making Scheme

One of the most revealing parts of Alfonso’s account involves internal finances. He describes the a FREE STORE program, where members contributed P500 per aid package but goods distributed were actually valued at about P300. The discrepancies accumulated into tens of thousands per cycle. Local officers, often unpaid and exhausted, were expected to cover shortfalls from their own pockets.

He describes major events like SPBB (Special Pasalamat ng Buong Bayan) generating millions, yet local chapters were never shown detailed accounting. Projects that failed were blamed on members, not on upper management. His descriptions mirror irregularities reported in MCGI’s international branches, suggesting a huge pattern rather than isolated lapses.

Faith Under Siege

Alfonso’s deepest concern centers on doctrine. He saw practices like open questioning disappear.

He saw lessons reinterpreted to discourage inquiry. He noticed verses reframed to justify silence and compliance. These changes contradicted the early identity of MCGI, an identity built on theological discourses and line-by-line inquiries.

He came to believe doctrine was reshaped today under the leadership of Daniel Razon not to guide members but to protect leadership from being tested.

After he resigned, members were ordered to block him. Workers instructed the congregation to avoid contact. No official explanation was given. Questions he raised were never addressed.

For Alfonso, this silence functioned as an admission. Institutions confident in their teachings do not fear questions. Institutions struggling to maintain control avoid them.

Another thread in his account concerns property ownership. Alfonso recalls how members were taught for years that properties were “for the church.” Over time, he noticed they were transferred to BMPI, where Arlene Razon reportedly holds the majority stake.

This shift from communal to private ownership raises questions about transparency and long-term intentions. To members who contributed for decades believing they were supporting a ministry, the revelation is painful.

A Church in Freefall

Alfonso notes that long before he left, others were already slipping away. Officers messaged him privately. Workers abroad raised concerns. Local groups grew smaller without explanation.

Families split silently. The trend aligns with visible declines in attendance and activity reported by exiters across regions.

What was once seen as rare now appears to be a steady, spreading pattern.

Alfonso repeats that he did not leave because he lost belief. He left because belief cannot grow where questioning is punished and truth is negotiable. He describes his departure as an act of self-respect, not defiance. Many exiters echo the same sentiment. They are not abandoning faith. They are separating faith from institutional control.

For those watching the movement widen, the meaning is clear. The people leaving are not running from truth. They are running toward it.