When that calling loses value

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Growing up, if there were those in society I revered, then it could be the men and women of collar. Those were days of mainstream churches before mushrooming of kiosk like churches that are more of personal enterprises than spiritual nourishment centers. 

Back in the day, the men of collar were more visible than female clergy, and they led very simplistic if not humble lives. They could walk or cycle distances just for the passion of the gospel. Unlike their contemporaries today who drives fuel guzzlers, or can't do a kilometer long walk. The old generation of clergy was classic of sorts, their down to earth living is what would be associated with poverty. The misconception then was serving a calling meant forsaking everything to do with material wealth for the illusion of heavenly riches.

If you then noticed their children, you'd mostly likely revere them the way you did their fathers. The notion here is their children were grounded in high moral upbringing living saintly kind of lives to be emulated by others.

But coming of age, the scales that blinded my eyes began falling off. The true picture began emerging. That's when I discovered that truly the devil camps in the clergy homes.

If its not that clergy living a double life, then among their children are devils incarnate. One revered priest had a gangster of a son. Each time he'd be caught on the wrong side of the law, the priest would be at the police station to bail him out. This was to avoid that bad reputation to his (clergy) name. This priest was so much devoted to his calling that he neglected his family. If he got an invite to be a guest preacher in a crusade miles away, he'd pack his bags and would be gone for days, if not weeks. Whether it was in neighbouring countries it mattered not if such crusades would have any impact, to attend he'd attend them. What he cared about was having a large than life profile of a gospel warrior, in the forefront fighting spiritual battles and winning souls. Even as he went preaching with zeal, he never found it worthwhile to rain the same sermons of sulphur and brimstones that awaited unrepentant souls in hell to his family, or maybe family devotion wasn't part of his daily living.

Another had a daughter who is a known alcoholic, takes abortions like a ritual of sorts, spikes revellers drinks and robs them, but manages to either get out or be bailed by the family members, and continue from where she left off like its her only life career, with no shame at all.

That its not unusual for the current generation of preachers to walk from pulpit and straight to brothels on Sundays doesn't surprise. And their children could be unknowingly following on their examples or goes ahead to excel better than them, especially from these churches of "Baba na Mama" full of dramas.

But Kenyans love such dramatic characters masquerading as men or women of collar. Anytime one is caught in a scandal that has the internet ablaze or the nation talking, their congregations triples the next Sunday, with churches packed to rafters. They use such scandals to milk fame and sympathy at same time, psychologically manipulating believers what they're going through is manufactured gossip intended at their downfall, and many gullibly buys their lies.

Of interest, you can find them taking liquor, and justify their actions by quoting the scriptures that a little wine for stomach is recommended. Their version of "wine" here is crate full of liquor, or the strongest spirits on the shelf that can knock out an elephant in a single sip!

When that calling loses value, isn't it wise to step aside?

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