It is not every day that a pastor makes headlines for eating nyama choma in the middle of a sermon. But that’s exactly what happened when Pastor Victor Kanyari was captured enjoying roast meat before his congregation. Reports claim that only members who had contributed at least Ksh 300 to the church’s welfare were allowed to share in the feast. The rest simply watched.
At first, one might laugh it off — after all, it’s Kanyari, a man known for courting controversy. But the scene says a lot about what modern-day religion has become. That image — a preacher chewing meat as his followers look on — sums up a troubling reality: the gospel, in some corners, has been turned into a business.
For many believers, especially those struggling financially, the church has always been a place of hope and belonging. Yet, over time, that hope has been slowly turned into a product to be sold. The faithful are told to “sow seeds” with the promise of blessings in return. The poorer they are, the more they are encouraged to give.
It’s a clever kind of manipulation — spiritual in tone, but financial in intent. The pulpit becomes a stage where faith is performed, and the offering basket becomes the collection point of people’s desperation. The result? A flock that keeps giving, but never seems to rise.
And yet, when we look back at the life of Jesus Christ — the very man whose name these churches invoke — His ministry was marked by humility and compassion. He fed thousands freely, (like it’s documented in Matthew 14:13–21; Mark 6:31–44; Luke 9:12–17; John 6:1–14) healed the sick without charge, and shared what little He had. There were no welfare contributions, no VIP tables, and no public feasts for a select few.
Today, we see the opposite. Many churches have become places where wealth is flaunted, and privilege is preached as a reward for giving. But that was never the message of Christ. The gospel was meant to lift the poor, not use them.
The tragedy is that the same people being exploited are often too trusting to question what they see. They’ve been taught that to doubt the “man of God” is to doubt God Himself. And that’s how the cycle continues — the flock stays poor, and the shepherd grows rich.
Real ministry isn’t about who eats while others watch; it’s about who shares with those in need. Until we return to that kind of gospel, our churches will keep filling up every Sunday, but our hearts will remain empty.
