Global Freezing

Dear Eugene,

"[Jesus'] disciples said, “What are you talking about? With this crowd pushing and jostling you, you’re asking, ‘Who touched me?’ Dozens have touched you!”

Possibly the funniest line in the whole Bible, from definitely one of the best short stories I've ever read any where.  If Alice Munro is asked to hand over her Nobel Literature Prize for this piece of "Markan Sandwich," I think she well might take the bite.

Mark's storytelling is savagely succinct, to-the-point; yet every next line opens up a new human universe, with big enough off-screen space to give account to a cosmic tragedy but told like a sit-com.  You could almost hear the rimshot and laugh track right after the zinger.

If I am to re-imagine the scene and have the stage-light go off at the right moment, all the characters freeze their action, leaving only a spotlight on the disciple, I can hear his soliloquy going something like this:

Who touched you?  Are you serious, Jesus?  What do you expect?  This is planet Earth!  People walk on planet Earth!  People bump into people walking on planet Earth!  People bump into people walking on planet Earth expecting nothing new to happen!  No one keeps a ledger of how many times people touched him, like who would count his own blinks throughout a day?  I don't know if things work a bit differently in Heaven, but on Earth here, stuffs just kinda happen and keep happening, like nonchalant clockwork.  It's not about you personally; it's just how things are.  The sun rises, another day--big deal!  Same breakfast, same job, same worry, same agony, same traffic, same bad leg, same infuriating attitude from my kids!  You book a vacation and get a bit of a breather from the routine; half way through the fabulous trip on a luxurious hotel mattress you dream about your evil work station stretching its witchy arm curling its long witchy index finger towards its witchy little palm summoning you back to the inferno where your rear end firmly belongs most of your living waking hours.  Another day another dollar no need to give a holler.  You think things might change, but they won't!  You think you can change, but you can't!  The Earth around you is spinning the same old way all over again every new morning, and why shouldn't you?  Same superhero movie remade twenty times, I lined up for all twenty out of loyalty to friends and foes, agree to disagree on Marvel vs DC, like my parents fought over the Beatles and Elvis.  Conformity comforts.  I walk down the street humming that Saturday Night Fever song but with a straight back like I am going to Sunday School.  I don't touch no one and no one touches me.  If they make a mistake to, I don't hold it against them cos it's likely unintentional.  Civilized people know their boundary, personal space, a circle with a radius 1.5 to 4 feet away from the center of the universe, yours truly.  We break that space only reluctantly, like what happened just now, because we can't avoid it.  The street is narrow and people think you are the new sensation, an up-and-coming stock pick, an exotic travel destination with alluring promises printed right on the brochure, affordable fun.  They pulled out their phones ready for a selfie.  If you fail in whatever you are claiming to be, at least they'll get a picture of you to show their friends and say, Hey, do you remember that loser?  I saw him fall!  Front-row seat!  What goes up must come down.  You are a good teacher.  You are a decent man.  I've never seen anything quite like you, I must say.  But, please, don't get too full of yourself and start asking dumb questions, like, who touched you.  Like I am responsible to police for you.  Like someone is trying to snatch your wallet, to steal a kiss from you and get away with it.  Jairus is waiting for you, remember?  Time is of an essence.  His daughter is dying.  Leastwise show some interest, urgency, do something different--anything that's half impressive--or this crowd is a goner before sunset...

Or we can cease the macabre humor to bring everything all the way down to absolutely no drama.  Like you and I walking on the street--my street, your street--everyday, expecting not to touch anyone, or if we inevitably touched someone, we expect nothing to happen, no rude exchange, maybe a polite side-way glance (in Vancouver), but that's about it.

Jesus told us, "The person who trusts me will not only do what I’m doing but even greater things, because I, on my way to the Father, am giving you the same work to do that I’ve been doing," but we thought he must be talking about our missionary brother-in-law and not us ordinary folks.

He then also said, "From now on, whatever you request along the lines of who I am and what I am doing, I’ll do it. That’s how the Father will be seen for who he is in the Son. I mean it. Whatever you request in this way, I’ll do," and we don't really know what to make of that without turning ourselves into Jesus freaks.

Meanwhile, life goes on.  Blood flows.  Twelves years and counting.  Double-down on the bandage and no one will notice.  Modern technology.  Good stuff.  Thank God.

Don't expect power to come out of me.  I have not enough calorie in me to keep myself warm.

Earth, it is cold in here.  Alex