On Saturday night, Bea Long’s driver, Ding Dong, sent her a text message: “If I no needed can go home? I think tabernacle not feel well.” This was a puzzler. Tabernacle? I’ll give you one guess what I thought the translation was and it sounded rather scandalous, a little too much information. Was this something Bea really needed to know? Sheesh. Talk about crossing cultural barriers.
In an event, Ding Dong was sent home to heal his tabernacle. At the going away party later that night, sandwiched in conversation between Sexy Mormon and Sarah Sugarbabe, a well-heeled Jew from Manhattan, it occurred to me that tabernacles were exactly what those two religious groups have in common and if that was the case, maybe there was an alternate meaning?
Sunday morning Bea Long gathered her courage and asked Ding Dong what “tabernacle” meant. Ding Dong whipped out his electronic translator and entered the Chinese character and up popped: body, person, tabernacle. Why did he choose tabernacle? she inquired.
“I pick the longest one,” he replied.
I’m upgrading today. If a body is a temple, why not a tabernacle? Linguistically speaking, at least four cultures, apparently including the Chinese, believe you should treat your body as holy space. Although I am back to polluting my body with bread, I’ve done some heavy lifting this week with Sammy Ayochok, a.k.a. “The Package”, to compensate and ward off paralytic moving stress. My tabernacle not feel so good either.