Why the church must reclaim its moral voice from political power

When Gen Z chanted “Occupy the church!”, it was not because the church was empty. It was because it was full, occupied by heist masters and power peddlers who act as they with a right of residence at the altar. Their confidence betrays entitlement. They show no reverence for the sacred. They mock the house of prayer without apology. If such arrogance is already mature at this early time of the campaign season, what will it become at its peak? Members of Parliament will by then hold the keys to open and close the church at will!

Yet these actors did not simply storm the sanctuary. They were invited. Some knocked and were welcomed; others did not even knock the clergy knocked on their doors, pleading for help. Help with what? Money. Always money. How many warnings does the church require concerning its appetite for money? How long must it be reminded that much of what politicians give is stolen wealth? Why does the church persist in pretending that these gifts come from clean coffers? For how long will the church posture as a beggar, desperate enough to sanctify any source of provision?

Goons are not only jobless youths in the street. Some wear suits and invade boardrooms; others wear clerical robes and quietly place a “For Sale” sign on the altar.

Who tied the hands of the priests? Not the politicians, they merely exploited an opening. The cords were woven by compromise, tightened by fear, sanctified by convenience. Who handcuffed the power of Elijah? Not Ahab, but the subtle temptation to dine at Jezebel’s table. Fire does not fall on rented altars. Who caged the spirit of Daniel? Not Babylon, but the offer of safety without faithfulness, the quiet suggestion that survival is wiser than witness.

And when did Esther and Alice go different ways? Esther risked the throne to save her people; Alice choreographed women in church, headgear and all, to cheer and jeer for her personal ambitions. Sacred symbols were bought and wielded for gain. Holiness became a tool, the sacred was rented, and the altar shrank into a stage for ambition.

The priesthood was not disarmed by force but by appetite. The chains are not iron; they are golden. They glitter like honor but weigh like betrayal. What we are witnessing is not persecution but domestication, prophets turned pets, shepherds turned service providers, watchmen paid to sleep.

Prophetic Courage

The power of Elijah was never lost; it was traded. The courage of Daniel was never crushed; it was postponed. The boldness of Esther was never impossible; it was inconvenient. And so the question is not whether God still calls prophets, but whether prophets still choose God when the palace offers comfort, applause and cover.

I do not blame politicians for mobilising supporters to church. I do not blame them for choreographing chants. That is what politicians do. Responsibility rests on the priest who abdicates the role of presider and becomes a spectator, who enjoys the drama as that which was purchased by blood is desecrated by those who buy influence with money. Where “investment” has already occurred, politicians are merely executing their side of the bargain. Priests cannot eat political money and expect political restraint.

The honor such priests imagine they possess is illusory, like a man who failed to push his people to a nearby village in a wheelbarrow yet vows to fly them to a foreign country. Priests can position themselves for honor or dishonor. In our context, honorable positioning requires an authentic calling, matheriaism, not proximity. Yet desperation for money has become one of the most crippling weaknesses of the contemporary priesthood. Politicians know this and exploit it preemptively, offering solutions before requests are made. The challenge facing Kenyan priests today is not martyrdom, far from it. It is not morally complex. It is starkly black and white. When priests cannot discern this clarity they become blind guides. And yes, sometimes priests need to be led. The painful question is: who will lead the priests? 

Priests are human. Their clay nature will surface, robes notwithstanding. But humanity need not be a vice; it can be a virtue. A priest can be humanized by compassion, and sometimes by righteous anger: anger when thieves parade in church under the banner of God. Do we still have angry priests? We certainly have many hungry ones!

Now that the nation dreams of “going to Singapore,” one must ask: what does a Singaporean church look like? The church’s pilgrimage is not toward the First World; it is toward the first love. The recovery the church needs is not economic sophistication but moral clarity. The first-love church regains its compass and preaches its bearings without fear. The first-love church confronts politicians and commands, “Steal no more.” The first-love church embraces the poor with a poverty-breaking intensity. It trains its darts on all who demean the people, resolved to win, not manage, the battle against corruption.

When a politician disguises her cheerleaders as church women by dressing them in signature headscarves, she reveals something profound. She signals that the headgear carries no sacred weight, it can be worn by any head without consequence. Yet she affirms its political value. She knows that applause or protest from church women matters politically. This is a tacit confession: the church remains politically significant. The tragedy is that politicians would rather intoxicate priests than confront the church’s moral authority.

Politicians come to church with interests, not innocence. Give them an inch, and it becomes a road, a highway for their ambitions. Priests often discover too late that they can no longer stop them. Why? Because authority surrendered is rarely returned without repentance, and repentance is the one currency power fears most.

The pilgrimage of the church is not toward influence, applause, or wealth. It is toward first love, toward courage, toward integrity, toward God alone. Let us reclaim the sacred. Let us untie the hands of the priests, ignite the courage of Elijah, release the spirit of Daniel, and restore the boldness of Esther. Let the church shine as light in the darkness, and the salt of the earth, uncompromised, unpurchased.