The newly completed Church of Jesus Christ Nairobi Kenya Temple at Mountain View, Nairobi on April 14, 2025. [Boniface Okendo, Standard]
Kenya needs a church of thinkers, visionaries, not just loud sermons
Opinion
By
Edward Buri
| Nov 16, 2025
The church is no ordinary institution. It claims the Creator of the Universe as its Head. It proclaims resurrection power. We cannot expect only a normal contribution from such a body. It dispatches souls to heaven and warns about hell. How can it fail to deliver people from the hell they are already living in? High claims demand high scrutiny. You either drop the claims and we recalibrate the punches — or you keep the claims and we keep punching, with godly reason.
The Church must appear in public spaces with full confidence in its identity. But too often, the Church adopts a posture that leans toward the politicians who sponsor it, at the expense of allegiance to its Lord. Such a church inevitably campaigns for lowered standards, and to that we must respond: let the true Church stand up! The country awaits.
To stand tall, the church must face and answer seven uncomfortable questions:
1. We know your preachers — but where are your thinkers?
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Our pulpits overflow with powerful voices, yet the public square starves for Christian thinkers who can interpret the times. Preachers lose their voices speaking, while we desperately need believers stretching their minds thinking. It is a faith that speaks loudly about Jesus yet cannot unravel His mission — a faith that saves souls but spares systems. Such a Church cannot speak meaningfully about corruption, governance, justice or economics. The early Church grew because it married proclamation with intellectual depth. Kenya does not need louder sermons; it needs theological minds who can imagine alternatives and articulate a Kingdom vision for society. A Church without thinkers cannot disciple a nation. The church must reclaim its chair at the table of national strategists.
2. We know you are negotiators — but where is your plan?
The Church is often invited to peace tables — summoned to negotiate truces at the peak of tension and destruction. This is because of its presumed ability to deliver transcendent wisdom and a divine solution. Yet beyond saying, “Stop fighting,” does the Church offer any memorable peace and cohesion manifesto? Negotiation without a plan reduces the Church to a spiritual brokerage firm: always at the table, but never shaping the agenda.
3. We know you boast numbers — but where is your influence?
The Kenyan Church often measures itself by statistics, but do its followers truly follow its voice? They are spiritually aligned yet politically autonomous. A Church can only guide with influence if it hears clearly from God — if its leadership carries the prophetic roar of “Thus says the Lord.” Too often, leaders mislead, telling the flock, “This is the way,” only to have led them astray. The people long for spiritually sharp leadership, the kind whose guidance they can trust without hesitation. Sitting on the fence, adopting a “no-man’s land” stance, is escaping the deep work of discernment — wrestling with God until the path is clear, even if it means limping along the right way. Fancy robes and expensive architecture without light are part of the darkness; influence comes not from numbers, but from the credibility of discerning rightly.
4. We hear of your faith — but where are the miracles?
In Scripture, miracles were never merely private acts; they transformed communities. Widows were fed, prisoners freed, blind eyes opened, rulers confronted — faith reshaped society. Today, we have a Church that speaks of faith but avoids the public arenas where that faith is tested. Kenya’s wounds demand a faith that does more than routine ritual. For the resurrection power claim to be real. Otherwise, faith becomes a slogan, not a sign. A Church disconnected from its power risks losing its wonder before the world.
5. We see your institutions — but where is your modelling?
The Church has built schools, hospitals, universities and social programmes. These are impressive, but beyond providing services, people expect these institutions to model how systems of abundance should function. They should be a tangible answer to the prayer, “Your Kingdom come,” and a visible site where “Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven.”
Yet on the surface, the institutions appear righteous, but deeper layers reveal corruption, nepotism and a host of vices. These structures exist to serve as examples of integrity.
Without this embodiment, they remain monuments to what the Church says rather than what it lives. Until the Church models what it proclaims, its institutions will impress on the outside but fail to illuminate the hearts of the nation.
6. We hear your prayers — but where are the answers?
Kenya is a nation of prayer, and the Church prays constantly. We even have a national prayer breakfast! Yet prayer cannot substitute for obedience, courage and action. A Church that prays for peace while remaining silent on police brutality is asking God to bless what it fears addressing. Prayer without responsibility is hollow. True prayer must inspire righteous action. Knees that bend must produce hands that unmake injustice and build justice. The fruit of prayer must be visible in reconciled communities, restored systems, and transformed lives.
7. We honour your history — but where is your vision?
The Kenyan Church has a heroic past: resisting colonial injustice, educating generations, sheltering the vulnerable and shaping society. But history alone does not build the future — nostalgia is not a mission. When the Church relies on its history more than its horizon, it becomes a museum of what God once did rather than a movement of what God is doing. Vision requires imagination, courage and the willingness to confront present failures without hiding behind past victories.
The future of Kenya will not be shaped by churches celebrating old battles, but by churches daring to dream new possibilities: clean politics, restored families, ethical economies and a generation formed in truth. A Church without vision is like a lamp whose oil is spent — it may be revered for its light in the past, but it cannot illuminate the path forward.