A Dead Somebody in a Living Body[Orukotan Ayomikun Samuel]

The Tabernacle in the Old Testament, as established by Moses was meant to convey the Ark of the Covenant (Exodus 25-31, 35-40), to represent the presence of God and the primary location for communicating with God. The tabernacle is euphemistic to the sacred enclosures of the temple. The one the Holy Book (Bible) called the Holy Place or Holy Of Holies. The true meanings of the tabernacle have been undermined by frequent defilement, nerves of youthful lusts, indecent dressing, insane-like exposure of the body, misinterpretation of fashion and incessant love for pornographic junks. These preferred choices for the ephemeral have partitioned minds into confined jungle such that the place of God is a miniaturized alley. The bane of this present world has smeared her existence as the one created in the likeness of God while the other day has become a tool in the hands of the devil. The pleasures of this present world have consumed many; while others are building treasures through identified lapses and depravity. From land's end to John O' Groats, trace of these anomalies binds her flocks together directly or indirectly.

The arcane mystery of God has become a subject of debate in the life of its mysterious kith and kin. Often times, archaeologists have declared her basilica incompetent to carry the load of purity and sanctity. This vague info tempted me into asking questions from the discontented grave-digger. Sir, who erected the foundation of this faulty basilica? Who made this basilica ill structured to carry this heavy load? In less than no time, the ardent archaeologist replied angrily God! God? The source of everything that exist? I enthused. He responded with a will, "Yes". I was really astonished. So, with a sigh, I reminded the archaeologist, hope you know? He always boasts of perfection in all its ways, How come imperfection did soil her perfect attributes? I asked in fear. The archaeologist, seeing my religious foundation said "God is perfect in all his ways but the perfect will for her kind degenerated in the bold hands of her same-self". He did clear my whole doubt and I nodded through its guesstimate. Notwithstanding, I was itching to get a response for my unanswered inquiry. So I pressed forward cautiously, sir you have not answered my one and only question. He replied, what question is that? I replied almost immediately with a reformed one, sir, what was responsible for her below-standard basilica? In response to my reformed query, he said, "Her lifestyle". He went further and said, son, you might be too young to understand. He left me wandering; I couldn't help my respite either because that was my last chance to inquire from the subtle archaeologist. My curiosity went down immediately, I couldn't think straight nor help my confused state of mind.

I was still in the connecting mode when my sense of purpose prompted me that my friend was actually telling an uncommon parable of the ancient times. The one not told again these days. It is crystal clear that our society today is another disdain operating on the principle of Sod's law; the world is another atmosphere where you sense every bit of immorality. Sexting has replaced texting, obliterated tabernacles blowing virtues of decency away from her infant society. Unfortunately, the inner voice that should speak in her is dead. All she carries about is vessel unto dishonour (one that is not sanctified for the master's use). How then will she be able to build a mobile tabernacle needed to confront barriers of piousness? Oliver Queen, the movie star in the seasonal series titled "ARROW" was an ardent fan of the permissive will of his earthly father, his father gave him a book where names of different "unworthy" people was written, the dying wish of his father was to kill every personality written in that book. Why? They failed "Babylon". To restore the pride of "Babylon" was a daunting task for a young man like Oliver Queen who was born into affluence and fame. He however, forsook honour and royalty for this sacred call to service. He went ahead with his father's command not minding whose ox is gored. He was keeping this commandment with dints of perseverance, hardwork and commitment. Having answered to the call of faithful service, the call of nature soon beckoned shattering away hopes of a man's dying wish. He could no longer live up to the bidding of his father and his family was in sixes and sevens. He became sick of the demanding task of his treasured late-father. Soon after, he went back to the starting board under the influence of conviction, repentance and redemption. He embarked upon that lonely journey where rediscovery is being actuated and purpose is re-defined. However, within the twinkle of eyes, the city Oliver Queen left behind for that lonely journey has been reconfigured to the taste of another day. The one now a complex battle field filled with many guerrillas who also have the permissive will of their father (god) to uphold. Albeit, it is expedient to note that restoration becomes plausible after thorough regurgitation of her falls and flaws.

In reality, we have a living father who sent Jesus Christ to this world to die for our sins, his dying wish was to be poor so that we can be rich, and he gave all for humanity to the extent that he could say confidently "it is finished". He faced all manner of persecutions just because of the farthest, nearest and dearest. He did all this, so that we might in turn show a strong will of purpose in our earthly chore. It's a pity that even as I write, there are few Oliver queens in Christ who are carrying the perfect will of their father in heaven like a burden on their head at a time that everything in the world cite Armageddon. What kind of testimony is heaven sharing concerning her soul? What pain have I undergone for the gain of the kingdom of God? Don't forget Oliver Queen had to be "something else" just to achieve the dying wish of his father.
The father's will is clear enough for all and sundry. Am I doing the father's will? Probably, the sacred tabernacle of God in your life has been defiled on the streets of Sodom and Gomorrah. Don't worry, God promised to destroy Sodom and Gomorrah but if she is Sodom and he is Gomorrah, both "she" and "he" will be destroyed. Instead of daring the wrath, embrace this call for a personal reality check-up even as we traverse worldliness and sextet of soreness.

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