CELELAG, one day I'll write about you again.
"It comes up in a surprising number of conversations these days. And no one’s quite sure how to respond to it.
The issue? Even committed church attenders are attending church less often.
Sure, the trend has been happening for years (gone are the days when people attended 50 out of 52 Sundays), but the issue is reaching a tipping point in the church today. "
For a young man who left the shore of Delta to further in Lagos, attending church was always going to be a big issue. Attending Celelag was even going to be tougher. Not because of the satirical subjects Celestial church members were reduced to as a result of their flowing white garments (sultana) nor the false perception friends and classmates have about me being diabolically powerful, it just did happened that some self serving individuals had before my arrival at Abraka soiled the name of the church.
My entry into Celelag gate was not as triumphant as my entry to the school. Ola, a guitarist, convinced me times without numbers to attend until he gave up.
Brother Tayo, who had not been stoutly devoted back then tried his best. Like a young adolescent who had just started seeing pornography, I continued lusting in the terrestrial worship of a fellowship at Afe Babalola Auditorium every Sabbath. We spoke in different tongues and lounged in the ephemera euphoria of watching half naked ladies lead praise session. Soon as it began, it ended.
Like a lamb led to be slaughtered, I resented not and gave in to the cheap proposal of meal after service. That was my first day in Celelag. Ola was so benevolent, he squatted me and still lent me his garment. He did everything to ensure I enjoyed the service. Whenever I'm in church, he'll prefer to sit beside me rather than join the choristers. Bless him wherever he is today.
My first moments in church were though not glamorous like my lasts, they were however the bedrock to an already archived momentous history of a time well spent in Unilag.
Social events led me to Satan but Celelag brought me back. From the spirit filled brother coordinator of 2011/2012 to the cool sermon often rendered by the 2012 /2013 coordinator, Celelag mentored my path and straightened my ways.
The combative nature of brother Alimi teachings and the all pleasing personality the 2014/2015 brother cord exudes are though contrasting but both were inspirational.
Like Paul on his way to Damascus, a church mama was forced on me(nobody asked if I wanted her), but it did all the magic. When ULSU led me away, mum did everything to bring me back. If my miss Bible class and Thursday gathering, she would call to ask questions. Like a real mum, she forgave my manners and showed concern. I've never, yes, never seen someone, who in normal situation, is not responsible for you, show concern and care for you. As much as Sister Damilola Adebiyi deserves all the accolades, Celelag deserved the glory for enforcing such wonderful initiative on its members.
To say the least, Celelag is the only United family that affords you serve God the way you like. Your privacy is respected and your ideology about when and when not to leave during service remains your thing.
Bro Kunle(an Arsenal fan) and Bro Ayo(a Man United fan) during Elkanemi days to our last moments in Eni Njoku will only discuss football with me(a Liverpool fan) when we meet at the common room. The way they drew a thick line between what happens in church and what happens in the hostel encourages me. Unlike some new generation churches that will bore you will after church monitoring and unnecessary follow up, Celelag affords me that privacy to live an all rounded life I've chosen.
There is no way you'll be in Celelag and you'll attend service less often. Even if you do, there will always be a Sister Dami that will encourage you to attend 50 out of 52.
Celelag, my pride. One day, I'll write about you again.
Charles Adegunoye, the ULSU PRO you know, the Olakunle Olashupo you did not know.
The issue? Even committed church attenders are attending church less often.
Sure, the trend has been happening for years (gone are the days when people attended 50 out of 52 Sundays), but the issue is reaching a tipping point in the church today. "
For a young man who left the shore of Delta to further in Lagos, attending church was always going to be a big issue. Attending Celelag was even going to be tougher. Not because of the satirical subjects Celestial church members were reduced to as a result of their flowing white garments (sultana) nor the false perception friends and classmates have about me being diabolically powerful, it just did happened that some self serving individuals had before my arrival at Abraka soiled the name of the church.
My entry into Celelag gate was not as triumphant as my entry to the school. Ola, a guitarist, convinced me times without numbers to attend until he gave up.
Brother Tayo, who had not been stoutly devoted back then tried his best. Like a young adolescent who had just started seeing pornography, I continued lusting in the terrestrial worship of a fellowship at Afe Babalola Auditorium every Sabbath. We spoke in different tongues and lounged in the ephemera euphoria of watching half naked ladies lead praise session. Soon as it began, it ended.
Like a lamb led to be slaughtered, I resented not and gave in to the cheap proposal of meal after service. That was my first day in Celelag. Ola was so benevolent, he squatted me and still lent me his garment. He did everything to ensure I enjoyed the service. Whenever I'm in church, he'll prefer to sit beside me rather than join the choristers. Bless him wherever he is today.
My first moments in church were though not glamorous like my lasts, they were however the bedrock to an already archived momentous history of a time well spent in Unilag.
Social events led me to Satan but Celelag brought me back. From the spirit filled brother coordinator of 2011/2012 to the cool sermon often rendered by the 2012 /2013 coordinator, Celelag mentored my path and straightened my ways.
The combative nature of brother Alimi teachings and the all pleasing personality the 2014/2015 brother cord exudes are though contrasting but both were inspirational.
Like Paul on his way to Damascus, a church mama was forced on me(nobody asked if I wanted her), but it did all the magic. When ULSU led me away, mum did everything to bring me back. If my miss Bible class and Thursday gathering, she would call to ask questions. Like a real mum, she forgave my manners and showed concern. I've never, yes, never seen someone, who in normal situation, is not responsible for you, show concern and care for you. As much as Sister Damilola Adebiyi deserves all the accolades, Celelag deserved the glory for enforcing such wonderful initiative on its members.
To say the least, Celelag is the only United family that affords you serve God the way you like. Your privacy is respected and your ideology about when and when not to leave during service remains your thing.
Bro Kunle(an Arsenal fan) and Bro Ayo(a Man United fan) during Elkanemi days to our last moments in Eni Njoku will only discuss football with me(a Liverpool fan) when we meet at the common room. The way they drew a thick line between what happens in church and what happens in the hostel encourages me. Unlike some new generation churches that will bore you will after church monitoring and unnecessary follow up, Celelag affords me that privacy to live an all rounded life I've chosen.
There is no way you'll be in Celelag and you'll attend service less often. Even if you do, there will always be a Sister Dami that will encourage you to attend 50 out of 52.
Celelag, my pride. One day, I'll write about you again.
Charles Adegunoye, the ULSU PRO you know, the Olakunle Olashupo you did not know.
Comments