Premonition, destruction, desperation—were what we felt when our pastor started his sermon by asking his interpreter to unmount the podium, and leave the pulpit. It was a show of unintended embarrassment, and a thriller of what we least expected, as he vigorously sanitized his hands before touching the pulpit he left few minutes ago. The fourth time in twenty minutes.
As these Nollywood scenes unfolded, the rest of the congregation were transfixed and rationally confused, and the atmosphere blew hot and cold at the same time. At that moment, partly half of them stopped chilling with the Most High, and had to murmur to pacify themselves.
Even before the Grace of the Lord, the clarion call made by our pastor wasn’t loud enough to calm the fears of the 550 members present in the church. They were many weary eyes on happy faces, and the prophecies of our pastor who was overly conscious, didn’t go down well with them.
The sermon itself gave birth to mixed emotions and reactions from persons of different dispositions. Subconsciously, they refused to exchange pleasantries after the service, and diplomatically paved their ways to thier respective rides.
Dead men tell no tales, and it’s the duty of the living to tell those tales. Most times we wish we didn’t do what we did, when we end up doing it. According to Descartes, the idea and knowledge of God’s existence is innate, and exists in every person. It’s high time we stopped confining our definition of Christianity to the four walls of the church.
Maybe Heaven really helps those who help themselves, or those who refuse to help themselves will make Heaven, is a matter of choice. And our choices partly determine the fate of those around us. It’s either you’re saved from redemption, or redeemed before salvation. And on the long run we define our existence.