BY Adejoh Idoko Momoh
There’s something about the worship here; the church amazing
in its construction: paved rocks like waterfalls leading to doorways that in
themselves lead to a really expansive football- field -like arena with very
high ceilings of public address systems, air-condition vents and beautiful art.
With arguably the largest congregation of any American
church, Lakewood Christian Center seats a remarkable 40,000 people; the
building was once Houston’s Compaq Center before the church bought it at $7.5
million and then started an ambitious $93 million worth of renovations, the
church as it stood before me, justified every expense.
‘I am a mess sometimes. I might be a mess tomorrow… And you
know what? God-says- it- is- okay to- be- a- mess, provided- I don’t- stay-
that- way’ Victoria Osteen would say. Picking her words individually, in that
voice white people use when they are overtaken by amazement or the sudden
realization that whatever troubles they have has been mysteriously relieved.
I would loose concentration, think to my local church: Pastor
Biodun Fatoyinbo’s Commonwealth of Zion Assembly, Abuja. His church, much like
this: in branding, the motivation- like sermons, the largely youthful, hopeful
population with excellent service of songs and praises: the ideal picture of a
progressive church.
I would allow my mind wander. Ask what Victoria would do if
like Pastor Modele Fatoyinbo, Joel Osteen had an ‘Ese Walters’ leveling
allegations of a weeklong affair against him. A weeklong indulgence in
fornication which Pastor Biodun fully aware of his actions lured her into,
first by asking her to join his pastoral care unit, offering personal spiritual
counseling and encouraging her to try alcohol.
His ‘Ese’ would probably say he spoke in his very charming
Texan accent, saying: ‘I’m gonna teach you a level of grace mankind doesn’t
understand’ his eyes sparkling with the glow of a teacher eager to school his
student. He would then threaten just like Pastor Biodun did: ‘I see premonition
in which you leak details of our affair to the press. When such a time comes,
remember that the bible requires you to hurt not Gods anointed’
Bringing myself back from thought, I would see her. Light
skinned and very pretty in her above-knee-length blue dress accentuated at the
waist by a metallic black belt, I imagine she would say to Joel, our marriage
is for better and for worse, but mostly she would realize that he didn’t just
sin against her, but against his church, against the part of Christ’s body he shepherds
and therefore owed more of an explanation than the ‘Leave it to God’ posture
Pastor Biodun has currently adopted with the people of COZA and the larger
public.
For every one worker who would labor every Sunday, every
weekday making sure services run smoothly,
she would demand that he apologizes.
Not because by his apology he admits some form of guilt, but because by his
actions, he has brought them embarrassment. 
She would probably ask him to take a back seat from church
activities, let other pastors who were content with their wives and didn’t see
the need to desecrate their flesh with adultery, shepherd the church.
She would know that he is human, probably forgive him after she
overcomes her own anger. She would know that because of this humanity, he would
make mistakes sometimes and would need the direction a good wife should
provide.
She would pull herself together: show that she is a woman in
control and not just one who is lingering in the background, gleefully playing
the victim of a cheating husband. She would take a stand: publicly stand by her
husband, help him find God again or walk away, but all she would do, she would
do boldly.
