As Far as East is from West

He is Risen! He is Risen, indeed. 

Happy Easter!

Masses of people will celebrate this holiday with colored eggs, chocolate bunnies, and ham, while gathering with family. We celebrate with you!

Masses of people will celebrate this holiday remembering Holy Thursday, Good Friday, and Easter Sunday. We celebrate with you!

For those who are remembering, I have a couple of comments. But nevertheless, the remarks are useful for all of us, spiritual or not.

Holy Thursday: Jesus, as a servant leader, washes the feet of his disciples, later saying, “A new command I give you. Love one another as I have loved you.” (John 13:34-35). Do we ever, even metaphorically, wash the feet of those we love? Would we even consider doing this for those who betray us? 

Good Friday: The day of Crucifixion. The day that curtain between the faithful and God was torn in two from top to bottom. A curtain nearly 4 inches thick, 60 feet tall, and 30 feet wide that required hundreds of men to manage it, was destroyed and so was the separation between God and us. 

Easter Sunday: A group of women (including Mary Magdelene) braves the wrath of the Roman government to visit the tomb of Jesus finding that He is risen, just as he said he would.

But Holy Week starts, of course, with Palm Sunday. And this has been front and center for me this year. You remember the story; the celebration, the hosanas shouted as palm branches were laid on the street in front Jesus arriving at Jerusalem. I might have quickly moved on from there, as usual, but listening to one preacher, things were said that gave me pause - especially considering our current situation.

I had always been exposed to the East entrance to Jerusalem used by Jesus on this occasion. But I heard that Pontius Pilate was also in residence that day. He entered the city riding on a warhorse with a parade of military might, his job defined. Keep control.

I was struck as the polarized difference between these two parades was explained: The understated Jesus riding a donkey at the minor East Gate (the back door, if you will) versus a warhorse ridden by Pilate in procession that included a military show of force entering the main gate in the West wall. The discrepancies don’t stop there.

Everything that happened painted a picture of two kingdoms. A kingdom of power-over control versus a kingdom of power-under service and humility. 

The Pontius Pilate Parade of Roman culture 

• focused on wealth, status and fame. If you lacked these things, it was your fault – you deserve to be poor. Strong matters. Weaknesses and vulnerability are for losers. No need for compassion and empathy. Everyone gets what they deserve.
• was concerned about winning. Never admit failure. Hide the truth at all costs. Let nothing make you look foolish. Crush everyone that can out you. Cover it up. Misdirect. Deflect. And lie. The lie is good – it protects you. The truth about failure makes you look weak. Weaknesses are unacceptable.
• treated success as a zero-sum game. Might means right. If you want it, let nothing get in your way. Aggression and oppression are good if it serves personal benefit. Nobody deserves mercy. No second chances. Succeed or suffer the consequences.
• understood that judgment is necessary. Decide. This something or someone serves me well. Good. When the service is no longer needed, it becomes bad and must be discarded. Cruelty is not out of the question. 
• loved peace. Pax Romana. Use fear, intimidation, and severe punishment to coerce the population to conform. Punish all dissentions. When all disagreement is eliminated, peace will reign.   

The Jesus Kingdom on Earth Parade contradicts everything Roman life considered sacred. It's as far as East is from West. 

A sacrifice on a Roman-built cross put to death those cultural tenets. The Risen Lord gave life to a New Kingdom of Heaven. This is Easter. 

We need to choose our 'parade' and by doing so, we are confirming our allegiance to the kingdom represented by each procession. To adopt and claim Roman philosophies means that we will stay behind the curtain that was already torn. It is to choose to remain separated from God Himself. It is to choose a life of Roman peace under aggressive oppression instead of the peace of freedom offered by Jesus.  

"Now when Jesus saw the crowds, he went up on a mountainside and sat down. His disciples came to him, and he began to teach them. He said:

“Blessed are the poor in spirit,
    for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are those who mourn,
    for they will be comforted.
Blessed are the meek,
    for they will inherit the earth.
Blessed are those who hunger and thirst for righteousness,
    for they will be filled.
Blessed are the merciful,
    for they will be shown mercy.
Blessed are the pure in heart,
    for they will see God.
Blessed are the peacemakers,
    for they will be called children of God.
Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness,
    for theirs is the kingdom of heaven."

“Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me. Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you."

The above is found in Matthew 5. It’s the beginning of the Sermon on the Mount and commonly referred to as the Beatitudes. I pull this out several times each year for a refresher. You’ll notice that there is nothing here that reflects the policies and beliefs of life in the Roman Empire. There is nothing here that reflects our current culture's common philosophies either. That speaks volumes. 

To believe in a Holy Week culminating in Easter, it seems that we need to adopt and follow the teachings that come before the Resurrection. If we miss these lessons, if we do not become a transformative light, a calming peacekeeper, and a justice advocate for all people, I don't know how we defend celebrating our role as Easter People. 

For me, I reject the ancient Romanesque philosophies as well as those in existence yet today. I will invest in a priority refresh starting with that Sermon on the Mount. Maybe I'll be able to keep those parades in mind throughout the year. Well, that's my prayer, anyway. 

Happy Easter! 

Thank you Adam Smith for your Palm Sunday insights.

Knee-jerk Responses

 “Don’t run with that knife!”

A television show. The protagonist is chasing his nemesis. But the good guy is holding a knife! The quote above screamed through a voiceless consciousness. No forethought. No careful analysis. Just the conviction – immediate and determined. (Whether I am alone or with others, I make it a point never to scream at a screen.)

During my childhood, I was reminded on more than several occasions that running with sharp items is dangerous. Those past warnings were immediate, determined, and certainly not voiceless. Urgent admonitions had effectively been drilled deep into my unconscious behavior. I will never hurt myself by running with a knife and I stand very still when slicing tomatoes. 

Rainbow Reminder for Current Times

2,348 BC, Or 5,700 BC, Or 50,000 years ago, Or. . .

Paramount Pictures added a disclaimer to marketing materials in February 2014, which read:

“The film is inspired by the story of Noah. While artistic license has been taken, we believe that this film is true to the essence, values, and integrity of a story that is a cornerstone of faith for millions of people worldwide. The biblical story of Noah can be found in the book of Genesis.”

Memories That Steal

It’s a nice little town. Rural, quiet, and peaceful, the population of around 2,600 is notably diverse.

On the surface, nobody would care if I chose to visit or to avoid this place. Afterall, it is just one of approximately 600 similar towns in the State of Iowa. It would matter only to me.

I chose not to go. 

Transformational Timelines

• “I know him! He’s a friend of mine.”
• “She’s really nice. I work with her. Sure, I know her.”
• “They’re OK. I see them walking their dog. How bad could they be?”
• “Well, all I can say is that he IS my boss, but I know his type.”
• "You know them. They all drive like that. None of them should have a license."

We might claim that we ‘know’ these people because of our interactions with them here and there. Our social cognition rings true because our brains are wired to categorize people and groups within milliseconds. (For more: Google Search, "How our brains categorize people and groups.")

The Warning of Dissonance

A couple of months ago, while visiting my first grandchild's soon to be post-secondary home-away-from-home, we wrapped up the day by attending the Iowa State Symphony Orchestra's performance of “Pictures at an Exhibition” by M. Mussorgsky. 

Discussing the event on the way home, I mentioned that one of the 10 movements was still gnawing at my nerves. I suspect this piece was difficult for the orchestra to play but for me, listening was intolerable. My research suggests that this piece might be “Catacombs.” Ear attention will be adamantly refused should I cross paths with this piece again. 

The problem? Dissonance. The music just never resolved the clashing notes. Unfinished business had left me rattled. 

The Concluding Edification

Google Search: The Running Man, 2025 movie.

“Plot: In the near future, the United States is a dystopian authoritarian police state ruled by corporate media networks, where most people live in poverty with little access to healthcare. People are kept pacified by FreeVee, which bombards the population with trashy, violent reality and game shows.”

“In the near future, "The Running Man" is the top-rated television show, a deadly competition where contestants must survive 30 days while being hunted by professional assassins. Desperate for money to save his sick daughter, Ben Richards is convinced by the show's ruthless producer to enter the game as a last resort. Ratings soon skyrocket as Ben's defiance, instincts, and grit turn him into an unexpected fan favorite, as well as a threat to the entire system.”

Made for Darkness

Wait. What? Made for darkness?

NOTE: Today’s article is directed more toward those identifying with the term ‘Christian’. At the same time, relevance applies to nearly all readers. 

On my mind today is an easily recognized prayer, commonly known as “The Lord’s Prayer’, or perhaps, the “Our Father’.

Spell Greed

This poem is often about grief. It is sometimes repeated with stories at funerals, airports, or when saying permanent goodbyes. We read, contemplate, and occasionally we cry. We promise to use ‘enough’ as a prayer for peace and contentment. We look to recognize all we have been given. We want to appreciate “enough” in every area of our lives. We want the same for every person that matters to us.

“I wish you enough sun to keep your attitude bright, no matter how gray the day may appear.
I wish you enough rain to appreciate the sun even more.
I wish you enough happiness to keep your spirit alive and everlasting.
I wish you enough pain so that even the smallest of joys in life may appear bigger.
I wish you enough gain to satisfy your wanting.
I wish you enough loss to appreciate all that you possess.
I wish you enough hellos to get you through the final goodbye.” 
Bob Perks (1950-2023)

Espresso Cup - Retired

Last week, the article was early. This week, it’s late. My apologies. As I was putting this together, something didn’t make sense. Eventually, I realized I was merging two concepts that needed to be separated. That done, here you go!

Les Animaux Aiment la Musique

New Grips

It’s been decades.

As a kid, I spent countless hours at Hillcrest Golf Club in Maplewood, Minnesota. I started as a caddy—three dollars a day if you were lucky, six if you carried two bags. When the pro shop offered me hourly wages, I jumped. I pulled clubs from storage, prepped carts, shined sticks, stocked shelves, and even tinkered with my own grips and weights.

Then came the “demotion.” I became a driving range attendant. My job was to wander a hilly, rutted, overgrown field and pick up golf balls by hand. No machinery. Just bend, grab, repeat. Both backbreaking and hot, I was miserable.

Black Ice

An opportunity to experience winter driving presented itself the other day. Heading south, we had a few stops to make. On dry roads, we began our boy’s day out with coffee and treats. Our second stop: Indoor golf. Yes. Golf, but for the peace of all readers, this particular discussion must be delayed for another time. 

Leaving the ‘links’, we walked into what had become a blurry winterscape. Just one hour had completely transformed the environment - and the drive. Admittedly, it felt odd to be carrying a bag of golf clubs while walking through a practice blizzard. And, brushing a couple of inches of new snow from the car after exiting the 'clubhouse' has also never been my experience.  

Carefully, we began the next leg of our journey. Our destination required another 35-mile drive, which eventually rewarded the boys with a 3-story, 70,000 square foot attraction designed for very active (young) people. Myself? I sat in the mezzanine tracking the movements of those with untold energy. I won’t say they moved faster than the speed of light, but I must say that metaphor crossed my mind.

It was a great day, but the story to be told here involves this 35-mile journey.