Kuya Daniel Razon: The Performative Preacher
- Rosa Rosal
- Sep 6
- 4 min read
Updated: Sep 6
Performative (adj.) – Acting for show, not substance. It looks deep, but it’s all surface.
Kuya Daniel Razon projects himself as preacher, statesman, philanthropist, and cultural icon. In reality, he is none of these. He is a broadcaster-turned-cult figure whose obsession with image, failed films, vanity books, self-composed songs, guns, luxury vehicles, politics, and self-branding betrays his lack of the one thing he was meant to carry forward--the preaching of the gospel.
MCGI under his watch is not revival but decline, not faith but performance, not growth but collapse.
As MCGI Exiters continue to expose the illusion, the empire of spectacle crumbles under its own weight.
The tragedy of Kuya Daniel Razon is simple. In trying to become everything, he became nothing that mattered.
From Broadcaster to “Prophet”
Unlike Bro. Eli Soriano, whose ministry thrived on public debate, real-time Q&A, and scriptural engagement, Daniel Razon repackaged MCGI into a brand-driven empire. His sermons are short on substance and long on theatrics, dramatized through AVPs and charity showcases that function more like political rallies than biblical teaching.
Razon centers himself as indispensable. Members are conditioned to equate loyalty to Kuya with loyalty to God. This is not pastoral leadership. This is a cult of personality.
Illusion of Grandeur: Playing Statesman, Not Shepherd
Instead of focusing on religious themes, Razon presents himself as a cultural and political heavyweight. His alliance with BH Partylist, use of UNTV as a campaign arm, and public ties with the Philippine National Police reveal a fixation on power and recognition.
This performative statesmanship mirrors political megalomania. Worship services often feature more posturing than preaching, with Razon declaring lines like “Ako yung inilagay so deal with it”.
This isn’t biblical instruction but insecure authoritarianism, where dissent is framed as rebellion against God.
The Failed Renaissance Man: Actor, Photographer, Musician
Razon’s megalomania extends far beyond the pulpit. Over the years, he has repeatedly attempted to craft himself into a multi-talented cultural icon:
The Actor – He once starred in his own films, which flopped so badly they didn’t even make it to mainstream Class B theaters. The productions were self-indulgent vanity projects rather than legitimate cinema.
The Photographer – He styled himself as a professional photographer, even publishing a glossy coffee-table book that functioned more as self-promotion than art.
The Musician-Composer – Razon has also postured as a musician, releasing songs and compositions designed to showcase his supposed talent. Yet none of these works gained traction beyond his controlled audience.
Each attempt reveals the same pattern. The need to be seen as everything! From preacher, artist, statesman, savior etc. while failing to excel in any of them.
Guns, Cars, and the Cult of Image
Exit testimonies highlight the disconnect between the members’ sacrificial giving and Razon’s lifestyle. Reports describe his obsession with luxury vehicles, firearms, and high-end living, symbols that contradict the humility once preached within MCGI.
While members sell sardines, pay for “charity” concerts, and stretch their finances to meet quotas, Razon embodies excess. This flaunting of power through material symbols reinforces his brand as untouchable, while starving members spiritually and financially.
Kuya Daniel Razon: Preaching Without Preaching
What sets Razon apart most starkly from Soriano is his inability to preach. Programs like Bible Exposition and Itanong Mo Kay Soriano, once cornerstones of MCGI, are gone. In their place are reruns, heavily edited AVPs, or vague moralizing speeches about “doing good” without doctrinal clarity.
Even when confronted with verses like 1 Peter 3:15, which command Christians to be “ready to give an answer,” Razon twists scripture into excuses for silence. Where Soriano thrived in debate, Razon hides in performance.
A Machine of Performance, Not Faith
Charity drives, Wish concerts, and public spectacles have become the substitute for authentic preaching. But these productions are not sustained by truth; they are propped up by endless donations, internal quotas, and captive markets.
This obsession with image without substance is why MCGI is collapsing. The exiters’ testimony is consistent: members are starved spiritually, drained financially, and silenced doctrinally. What remains is only a facade. A media-savvy performance masking authoritarian insecurity.