It is an especially nice day in Carbondale. I am sitting on the Writing Porch and reflecting on how peaceful and serene the afternoon is. Mylo has been for his annual Vet Visit and has received his required shots. He groused all the way there. He does not like going to the doctor any better than I do. However, when the Vet examined him he was a perfect gentleman…kids!

As I walked the streets of Herrin this morning I admired the historic buildings and the quiet rhythms of the city. I have been watching an Apple TV series entitled Extrapolations. It prognosticates the condition of our lives a decade at a time up to 2070. The controlling factor is Global Warming. The program does not make science fiction assumptions but common sense extrapolations of the effect of increasing temperatures. It caused me to think that we humans do not understand what we have and how fragile it is.

As the saying goes, ‘We doth protest too much.’ We hold our Second Amendment rights so sacred that the lives of our children take second place to the supreme right of the gun…

Our home is dying…but probably we will die first…so we will not have to experience it…

America for the Americans…we cry as we wrap ourselves in the flag and hug it and kiss it. Someone told me once that Native Americans were foreigners… We must protect our jobs we proclaim…while crops rot in the field for lack of harvesters…do you want to pick some fruit?

Many of us are still in the locked room after the resurrection in fear of what will happen to us if it is discovered that we followed our leader who the religious/political world crucified…

Perhaps it is time for us to unlock the doors and let the sunlight in…and go to work as…peacemakers.

It was a dark day. But then again it had been a dark day since the incident. Fear hovered like a cloud over the friends. The conversation had been replete with rumors and stories and unbelievable renditions regarding what had happened since the death of Hope. ‘I tell you…I saw him in the marketplace and he was buying some figs,’ he said. ‘Well, he did enjoy the occasional fig…and fish…he loved a good plate of fish,’ she added. ‘My crew asked me what I was planning on doing now that he is gone and some suggested we move away to avoid the danger that is obviously in store for us as his followers,’ the Old One said. ‘Oh it is not so dangerous as long as we do not venture outside until the heat of the moment has cooled…the doors are securely locked and I check their security hourly,’ DT noted.

‘Nic told me that it is not safe to attend synagogue as they have sentries posted to see if we attempt entry,’ the boy lamented. ‘I saw him…he looked wonderful too except for the wounds that he received in the house of his friends,’ she said with a glowing smile. ‘We saw the tender mercies of the Romans when it came to our leader…what do you think that they have in store for us,’ the Doctor asked? ‘No one treated me as if I mattered…before him…he treated me as an equal,’ little Z said.

‘Peace friends…DT I heard that you wanted to see my wounds…I have purchased us some figs…does anyone have some fish… let us have dinner…’

Reverend Beyler told us yesterday that Jesus’ disciples were together with the doors locked for fear of the Jewish leaders after his crucifixion, as many times as I have read the scriptural reference regarding the locked doors Judy’s clear explanation of how afraid the disciples were resonated with me for the first time. She likened their feelings a bit to how we feel today. We are afraid. We are surrounded by concerns and dangers and potential threats. We are a little housebound. Of course, we are not far removed from Our Pandemic and the fear of encountering another human.

Hope happens when we are with others. Fear subsides in the smiling faces of friends and loved ones. Peace is prolific in the shared experiences of our fellow travelers. It has been said that we are a generation that lives more in our heads than any other. The social experiences of many of us are engaging with our many screens. Direct human-to-human conversation can help to ameliorate the dark thoughts that have developed through loneliness and lack of input from others.

‘Later on that day, the disciples had gathered together, but fearful of the Jews, had locked all the doors in the house. Jesus entered, stood among them, and said, ‘Peace to you.’ Then he showed them his hands and side.’

Peace can come in no matter how securely we have our doors locked.

‘The end draweth nigh,’ said Chet with a hood over his head and eyes. ‘What end are you speaking of,’ asked Jane? ‘Why the end of school for the year, of course,’ Chet answered. ‘Don’t forget the exams and then the field trip to Six Flags,’ added Billy B. ‘I hear that their roller coaster is wicked,’ Daryl said with a sly grin.

‘Six Flags could not be better than New Harmony, Indiana…it was fascinating,’ Billy B. noted. ‘I had just received my Big Swinger Polaroid Camera and did I ever snap some fine photos,’ he continued. ‘New Harmony was historic,’ Jane said. ‘Yes and no rollercoasters…they make me nauseous,’ Chet said with a sick look. ‘The year of New Harmony is the year that I was playing the Tenor Saxophone…Mr.Prince told me that he had never heard a beginner play the musical scales better,’ Billy B. said with a grin. ‘Do you remember the strange woman that we saw dressed all in black and who told us to come into her home…that was built in a hollowed-out massive tree,’ asked Daryl? ‘She looked like a Witch to me… directly from Salem,’ answered Jane as she shook her head. ‘Buddy went into the tree and never came out…so I am told…he certainly did not return with us on the school bus nor to our class,’ Chet said.

Jane spoke to the class and asked them to take a vote as to whether or not they wanted to go to Six Flags or New Harmony. The vote was overwhelmingly for New Harmony! Jane had received a curious note in the mail with a postmark of New Harmony and all it said was…Come And Get Me…

Truth is truth as we all were taught in school…but the reality is another matter. As I walked the streets of my hometown of Eldorado this morning I reflected on who I was 50 years ago when I lived there and how my life experiences have changed me. We wonder a bit why others can not understand life as we conceive it. They wonder the same about us.

Two people can see the same automobile accident and report it completely differently. As we walk under the same sky one of us sees a cloudless day while the other says it is too hot.

As a child in Eldorado when the Theatre Department McLeod Performers from Southern Illinois University would visit Hillcrest School I could not visualize what a wonderful place University would be. A few years later I became a member of the staff at SIUC and realized a big dream that I had harbored. The University students revealed to me how big the world was and the wonder and mystery of it. I dreamed of traveling to distant lands and reading the pages of Earth’s Book.

Eldorado gave a profound sense of place. A sense of place is important as you explore the secrets of life. No matter if you are in Edinburgh or Eldorado…all of us are hungry for understanding and purpose and the answer to…Why…

Each of our lives gives us different experiences. Those experiences form our view of community and in fact the world. We embrace what we have learned does not hurt us and we stand apart from that which seems separate from our perceived reality. Indeed the only way to understand your fellow woman and man is to get to know them. Breaking bread with another race or religion or ethnicity…and listening to understand rather than listening to reply…is the beginning of wisdom.

Our life is a bit like the three blind men who were asked to describe an elephant. One said he is like a snake…as he felt his trunk. Another said he is like a fence…as he felt the creature’s massive rib cage and the third said he is like a tree…as he felt the elephant’s leg. So…the only way that we will ever understand our sense of place on Earth is to seek and explore and reflect…

I remember when I was 39. I loved having one more year in my thirties. Today is Jonathon’s 39th birthday. I recall one of my favorite comedians Jack Benny typically answered when asked his age…39. 39 years ago today MJ, Aaron, and I were excited about his imminently joining the family.

Jonathon is a captivating personality. Once you meet him you never forget him. He seeks to make all whom he encounters feel welcome and appreciated. Jonathon is a Librarian. He loves the job. He is a voracious reader and a published writer. He is a Karokee Singer and a Trivia Master. He is the person his friends call on when they need a friend…

Jonathon is an artist of words but there is one word that he does not partake of…Gossip! When it comes to others he has no guile. I feel like I know his coworkers and friends from the lovely comments that he tells me regarding them.

Jonathon does not speak of his faith…he lives it…

Tonight it will be Toms Place and Pasta and much laughter and light hearts and deep memories of days gone by and of those to come…next year…40…

Jonathon and I were in the Cricket And Red Brick Antique Mall this morning and I said to one of the owners that before we knew what happened it would be July 4th. She told me to not hurry the year and I agreed. Time flows by like the rushing waters of Giant City Creek that I sat beside many days this past winter. Rhythm helps as our days have a bit of music about them as does our weeks and months and years. Addictive personalities…and let’s face it we all suffer some from this human characteristic… we are searching for an outside element that will give our day-by-day existence some additional spice…like a measure of extra salt or jalapeno peppers. The regular motion of the ocean that is carrying our little boat is seemingly mundane and ordinary and lacking in spice.

Ordinary days are what make up the majority of our lives. They carry us from babies to senior citizens and there is much to appreciate in each of them if you attune your ears to hear the symphonic music that they play. I love classical music. I have ever since I took a music appreciation course at university. Everything has rhythm and rhyme. That glorious feeling that you have when you awaken from a good sleep and the day is new and fresh as it was when you were young. The joy of your sense of place in your daily routine and the pleasure of thought. The pervasive peace of nature and inspiration of your surroundings. The hope and quest of understanding your mission and which path to take to attain it.

Have you ever been worried about a loved one or felt bad and wondered if you would feel better. Worry is a heavy weight to bear. It saps your joy and happiness. As it has been said the economy can be humming along but if you are out of a job…it is the Great Depression. Do you recall how light and free and full of purpose and life’s zeal that you felt when your worry was lifted from your shoulders or your health improved?

Our brains seek connection. The world makes sense to us when we are able to relate one thing to another or one happening to another that was similar. When life fits us…it rhymes. Like a family celebratory meal at Cunettos. When it is going well it is like living in a poem. It is easy to see the bright future and to understand how the past has brought us to our glowing present…

MJ and I were watching our favorite show, Succession, last evening. Suddenly the drama changed from the quirky wedding of the oldest son of Logan Roy to Logan’s death. It is the third episode of a ten-episode arch for this last season of the program. I kept sitting and watching and thinking that this must be a trick…surely the patriarch and the center of the popular show has not just died. But he had…in all of his earthly glory on his private jet and with his girlfriend who is half his age and his pronouncement in the prior episode to the news staff at his new corporation that is loosely based on Fox News…’We are pirates!’ Indeed the remaining episodes will be different in a fundamental manner. Logan was central to all of the stories. It was a bit unusual to feel a sense of loss for a dramatic character…but I did.

This is life. We are mortal and we feel that we will never end. When I was a young man one of my good friends told me that he believed that he would never die. We understand that everyone else is going to die…but surely not us…

Death makes life precious and special and unique. We know that we all have an ending. We suppose that it will be around 100 years old and we will be sitting in our favorite woods smoking a lovely cigar and slowly slipping from this world to the next in a seamless fashion.

Pastor Kerry preached a magnificent sermon yesterday for Easter. A full half of the message dealt with the practicalities of life and our dysfunctional relationship with death. As Kerry said, ‘We do not have a complete understanding of death because we only see it from one side.’

Life is meant to be lived and enjoyed and relished and immersed in. It is not something to shun or to be put off until a more convenient time. Now is the time! Every day can be lived as the surprise ending to our story. As when we least expect it…it will…

Immersion is the key. We often dabble around the edges of our great gift and never dive into the bottom of our sea to understand who we are and what we can accomplish. We are a tad bit afraid and we have enjoyed the shelter of our enclosed world. We hope for grace and truth and purpose…but we are satisfied with mediocrity and conspiracy and just getting by.

Grand Experiment is our calling and where we have been abruptly placed. We point to our challenges and our meager abilities while the angels say…’You can do it!’

‘So you are trying to tell me that he is not in the tomb…that somehow he has come back to life,’ said D.T. to M.M. ‘Well I went to the tomb before breakfast and there was an angel sitting on the large stone that had blocked the door of the space and he said he had left and gone into the city,’ M.M. said with a wide smile. ‘He died and we all witnessed his death,’ D.T. said emphatically. ‘My dad and my mom died and they did not come back from the dead,’ D.T. continued. ‘Yes but they were not him,’ M.M. replied. ‘How did he move the stone…two strong men and a little boy would not be able to budge it,’ D.T. demanded as if to jar her from her dream-like gaze. ‘The angel said that he did it…and that it was easy and took little more than a nudge to roll away,’ she answered. ‘Is he a bodybuilder…does he lift weights…does he do cross fit,’ D.T. demanded. ‘He said that he was sent by God…you remember God don’t you,’ M.M. asked with a wink.

‘My goodness what a strange feeling…have I been asleep…was I dreaming…I guess not as there are still holes in my hands and feet,’ he thought. I hope someone is caring for Mom, he thought. She loved for me to tell her a story before she went to sleep…I hope James told her a story while I have been away. I must go and see the group. They will be glad to see me. Boy…will they be surprised!

The angel told me that I would soon be leaving. I have to continue with the mission of my Dad. He said that not only did he want me where he is…but that he needed me. I heard that he was well pleased.

‘That is him I tell you…I would know him anywhere. He told me that he was coming back and would give me a piggyback ride,’ said the Young One. Suddenly the Young One was on top of his shoulders and they danced and hopped and skipped around the market square. ‘What did he say to you,’ asked the Old One. ‘He told me that I would not have to be afraid…anymore…

There was a deathly quiet. ‘I do not know what to think…he was my teacher and friend,’ he said. ‘I told him to lay low for a while and let the anger subside,’ she mentioned. ‘I wondered how he was going to pull it off…it seemed more than a man could do…even a talented man,’ he said as he mended his net. ‘He told me that he would have to leave for a short time but would be back and give me a piggyback ride,’ The Young One said. ‘When he spoke I could hear music,’ The Old Lady said. ‘I never heard a voice like his…he sounded like many waters,’ M.M. said. ‘He spat on the ground, made clay of the spittle, and put the clay on my eyes…I was blind before the clay…and now I see,’ said the Former Blind Man.

‘Tomorrow I fish…I do not know what else to do,’ said the Fisherman. ‘He said that he would rise again…but dead is dead if you ask me,’ said D.T. ‘You know at times he seemed as human as you and I until he began to speak of his Father and his Kingdom…then a transformation occurred and I knew that I was in the presence of greatness,’ John said. ‘The Religious Elders were going to stone me…I was so frightened that I could not catch my breath…he began to write in the sand and one by one they dropped their stones and walked away…he asked me where my accusers were…I answered that I had none,’ said the Woman. ‘The people hated me…I am a tax collector…I climbed up into a sycamore tree to get a better look at him…he called out to me to come down and that he was going to come to my house for lunch,’ said Z. ‘I was with him when he looked over Jerusalem and he was profoundly sad…as he often was,’ he said. ‘He understood me better than anyone that I have ever met…he loved everyone without judgment…he spoke of a Peaceable Kingdom,’ she said.

‘Well, I am going to the tomb to pray…Lazarus told me that he believed what he said about returning,’ M.M. said.