The Pastor With a Moonwalk

“Praise God!!” A husky breathless voice charged. ‘’Hallelujah’’ the scanty congregation thundered.I vividly remember the first time Kunle went with me to church. Kunle let his eyes take in the chaos around wide eyed. The air was thick with moisture, most probably sweat from the writhing bodies of the wriggling and hopping worshippers.Apparently in this church any form of body movement was accepted as dance provided it was jerky, and was in rhythm to the music. Music fuelled the frenzy.Kunle had watched with his mouth slightly agape as the chaos approached its crescendo; an old lady sitting behind us attacked our ear drums intermittently with ear piercing shrieks from her whistle. Worse was the music, cacophony of noises to be truthful. An old battered piano that had seen better days in partnership with an incompetent pianist made good of the atmosphere to create music. The music or noise irritated Kunle the accomplished guitarist. Disgust mingled with amusement was stamped on Kunle’s face.Boy was I relieved when the dancing and jumping was over. My friend looked as though he was approaching an outburst. Fortunately the church service assumed an informal pattern that put everyone at ease. There was no use putting on formal airs, everyone knew everybody in this church; after all there weren’t more than fifty people in the wood and zinc structure that housed the church. The meeting was long and largely mundane except for moments like when the stocky man came to give his testimony.The stocky man had indicated he had a testimony to give. The stocky fellow testified that the Lord had delivered him from a spiritual wife. This spiritual wife stocky continued, was responsible for his backwardness and stagnation in his business. He went further to reveal how this spiritual wife had threatened kill his real wife should he attempt to walk away from the spiritual marriage. However since he began attending that very church his spiritual wife divorced him and he was beginning to prosper. The church spontaneously erupted into wild jubilation, some danced, some jumped to their feet and raised the plastic chairs they had been seating on up in the air. A member of the five man choir grabbed the Mic and shouted “fire!!!” to which the congregation shouted something in response. It was in the midst of this excitement that Kunle remarked between outbursts of laughter “that was polygamy transcending realms”The jubilant crowd was quieted only by the pastor’s ascent to the pulpit.No doubt I regretted bringing Kunle there, I had cringed when I imagined the blasphemies that would escape his lips when the time for the sermon. Somehow, after the service Kunle, didn’t come down hard on the church nor did he scoff at my attempts to get him ‘saved’.It was our last time together after our youth service year so I thought to myself “What better way to crown my efforts than to drag my friend to church and save his soul?’’. Evidently I had failed- woefully more so.Ten years later, I am in a church with the rowdiest atmosphere, the air is so thick with moisture that if the congregation kept on dancing it would rain sweat. I chuckled when I imagined what Kunle’s comment would be if he saw the dust the galloping worshippers raised as they danced to Yoruba songs they didn’t know the meanings to. When the singing and dancing was over, dust was all about.The dust in the air took time to settle. The Pastor a thickset fellow did not spare time waiting for the dust, he ran to the altar, grabbed the Microphone, turned his back to the congregation and executed a complicated hybrid of a Hopi dance and MJ’s famed moon walk. This little stunt erupted cheers and applause from the excited church.“Funky Pastor”, I thought.The pastor spun around and as his black Gucci jacket floated gently down, he raised a fist to heaven. My heart nearly failed me as Kunle’s eyes met mine from the altar.


(c) Immanuel Galadima 2013