Cups and boulders

I'm thinking cups this pleasant morning.

I'm thinking boulders the size of, oh, I don't know, maybe Milwaukee, I see Jesus, two days from Passover, from death, from partying with the cast of the undead, in the home of Lazarus, a friend. Suddenly he sends two disciples whose job had been to unload the equipment at each stop on the tour to take care of travel, two unnamed roadies. Go get a donkey name Meryl. Okay I made up the Meryl part, but you get the idea -- two guys and a steed of no repute.

They get a big room, they somehow cook an animal big enough to feed at least 13 and life's merriment begins, which leads me to this point.

Before the night is one and done, blood and sand, blood and memory, blood and Jewish law will be spilled. The world as they knew it shatters over the need to have certain needs met.

I was asked yesterday to look at the ceiling of  a, er, bar. It was a bar, which if I went into one once a day for the rest of this sometimes gray life I would never catch back up back up with the time I spent in them earlier.  Part of me reckons it would be scandalous fun to try, but I did not go there.  Instead, I  tell them what I aw. I saw a painting with little cherub,  flying with their wings. Pretty little things, I'll admit. But beyond the obvious, I saw little. I said those dreaded words, "I don't know what they say about us."

"They" said, "It's all a matter of perspective." I said in all my prepackaged but ultimately   brilliance, "Uh, huh," as I continued to look up at the pudgy little things. "Okay," said I as the light thrown onto those pudgy little things "I'm not so sure of that. Looks like the pudgy little things are flying around in a circle and, uh, ah, echch, I'm not sure."

I could have said, maybe should have said, "I don't get our perspective." Or something profound like that. Instead I said "I'm not too sure" as it all blew up around me. It looked like a bunch of pudgy guys on a ceiling.

Have I mentioned I'm not very deep?

So, cups.  After a night of spiritual exertion, Jesus cried to the Father, 'Abba, Father.Take this cup from me." He asked that a particular burden, which happened to be his death and the taking of the world's sins on himself, be taken from him. I've asked for but a little thing be taken from myself, and it ain't going so swell. Cups.

So, boulders. I imagine him sleeping by, kneeling by, sitting on a, you are ahead of me, boulders that fateful night. Boulders in the way of things going well. Boulders as separting factors in our lives. Boulders as what we rely on, and what keeps us from relying on things.

Bolders and cups. Boulders and cups. We are changing the world one lifeless individual at a time. Fer,sure.