OBARA: A nonbeliever’s plea to the Kenyan Church: You're too important to fail

I am not by any definition a good Christian. At least not in the sense that my parents raised me to be. While I am not one for labels, I would describe myself as a secular humanist in the vein of Kurt Vonnegut, with a touch of John Samuel Mbiti, the Kenyan-born philosopher known as the "father of modern African theology."

My upbringing was steeped in the strict doctrines of Catholicism. Later as I navigated the complexities of adult life, the usual existential doubts cropped up. I found myself adrift, questioning the very foundations of my faith. For a time at and after university, I was a militant atheist apostately disavowing all forms of organised religion.

I now recognise this for what it was; youthful folly. The longer I live, the less married I am to certainty about anything beyond the importance of systems that produce the most beneficial results for human beings. For this reason, though it may mark me as a wavering nonbeliever, I must admit I still have a deep affection for the Church. 

I have an abiding appreciation for the Church’s music, its art and its illustrious thinkers like St Augustine of Hippo and St Thomas Aquinas. My admiration extends equally to Islam, Judaism and Buddhism. I think there's a lot to learn from all these great faiths.

To better understand how these traditions interconnect, I find it unhelpful to cling to exclusivist and messianic notions and instead imagine a continuum of pious and learned philosophers each contributing the wisdom of their era to address the personal and political challenges that have resonated through the bulk of human history of which this experiment we call Kenya is but a blink of an eye.

As the author Marilynne Robinson aptly puts it, “This is how religions live in the world,” and there are “sutures in the text” to prove it. In Buddhism, there's a saying that a teaching is "like a finger pointing at the moon." The moon (enlightenment) is what truly matters, and the finger merely guides us toward it. The crucial thing is not to mistake the finger for the moon itself.

It’s with this broader perspective that we must now examine how the degradation of the Church in Kenya has undermined our nation’s values and, consequently, our political and social fabric. Christianity, like many other faiths, offers a robust framework for ethical living. When stripped of its institutional failings, it can provide a powerful guide for personal and communal integrity.

The Bible, for all its faults like condoning the moral sin of slavery and its lax attitude towards genocidal violence, is an extraordinary self-help manual with timeless wisdom. Its admonitions about the deceitfulness of the human heart and the folly of worldly wisdom are as relevant today as ever.

Of particular interest for this piece are the Bible's meditations on the idolatry of power. It's a recurring theme that's vividly etched in my mind thanks to Sunday school. For instance, Jesus' decisive rejection of worldly kingdoms during His temptation in the wilderness stands in jarring contrast to a Kenyan church that seems all too willing to accept the tainted glory of ill-gotten funds from morally bankrupt politicians. 

To confront this crisis, we must acknowledge that better politics will not emerge from a vacuum. There's a tendency amongst some nonbelievers to castigate the Church for its failings without giving credit where it's due. However, facts are stubborn things and the reality is that the teachings of Christianity, when adhered to with genuine conviction, offer a template for ethical living that transcends the failures of its practitioners. 

This is not a call for a return to blind adherence to religious dogma but a plea for a renewed commitment to the core values that faith traditions espouse. The essence of these teachings is not just to guide our personal lives but to inspire leadership that prioritises the common good.

The challenge for the Kenyan Church is to reclaim and redefine the moral high ground in a way that nurtures responsible leadership. The future of our public life hinges on their success. I will be rooting for them—and for all of us.