All On A Very Hot Day

This past Friday I was not my most gracious self. 

I became “one of those people.” 

One of those obnoxious people who interject unhelpful comments into a facebook thread, the kind of comment that either begins or only furthers a downward spiral into mud slinging.

In my defense, it was an extremely hot day, and I had to drive my kids around in a dark blue Galaxy with a broken AC. So I am sure that any feeling person will immediately understand the extenuating circumstances and will forgive my momentary lapse of facebook etiquette.

As if being cooked in my four-door-oven-on-wheels wasn’t bad enough on its own, there is, in fact, a whole list of things that have been irritating me lately. 

Truth be told, I am quite dissatisfied with the overall state of the world and want my money back.

To begin with, there is the “tragedy” in Charleston. And, I say, it couldn’t have happened at a worse time. This guy has to go and shoot nine black people, because they are black, in S.C., which flies a confederate flag on the capital grounds, right while I am reading The Divide, a book about the two completely different justice systems operating in my country that divide, who would have guessed, along class and racial lines and which chronicles a new form of exploitation that enslaves far more black people than our antebellum slavery ever did.  

So, that was unnerving.

Then I read the article, where the journalist Mini Chakarova describes the world she encounters as she goes undercover to follow the sex trade in several countries and makes a film called The Price of Sex. She describes women being treated worse than animals, corruption in the law enforcement, and cultures and mentalities that still shame and exclude women victims of sexual violence.

That totally bummed me out.

And how do I get the images out of my mind of the terror ISIS is perpetrating in Syria and Iraq, the beheadings, the crucifixions, the kidnapping and sex-enslavement of women and girls? How can I banish the pictures of the masses fleeing their homes from violence in so many countries and suffering extreme living conditions and harrowing journeys? Or suppress the ongoing drama of 273 school girls who have been held and traumatized for 448 days now by Boko Haram? 

Major drag.

Oh, and the Washington Post reminded me that the climate is also still a thing, and that we are all on the brink of the 6th mass extinction, so

I’m pretty bitter about that.

And to top it all off, too many of my neighbors are painting their houses in my absolute least favorite colors! 

It is all just too much for me to take! 

I am entirely sick of everyone in the world doing things without asking my permission first!

While in this mood, another post and conversation shows up on my feed not about any of these things, but yet again about whether same-sex marriage is natural, biblical, right. And I completely lost my self control and went all facebook kamikaze on this unsuspecting, progressive pastor/online theologian.

So in my comment, I might have forgotten my manners and written something along the lines of 

Hey, if Christian guys talked half as much about women's rights as they do about gay marriage, then we might actually be able to solve some of the worst problems in the world, affecting the largest percentage of people, at some point. Instead you are leaving the number one humanitarian issue of our century to these guys: http://www.buzzfeed.com/.../times-celebrity-men-shut-down... (#24 I find especially fitting) Can we move on already?

And when he tried to relativize my comment by suggesting (and I summarize) that we each have our pet issues which are important to us, but no one issue is more important than another, I actually wanted to toilet paper his house, but instead sunk to my lowest facebook self and wrote,  

Well, then by god, talk about those issues! The ones that will actually mean we will have to change something about our lives than just our political and theological posturing! And here is a thought, maybe women's rights isn't simply important to ME, but is correlated to refugees and all those other things you might be thinking about. I'm sorry for the snark, but it is incredibly frustrating to see so much macho theology spent on what I truly believe to be the wrong end of the horse. You are getting the bullet that has been loaded for sometime, but jeepers, what's a girl gotta do?

Yes, I know, it’s bad! What makes it even worse is that I wrote it on someone’s fb page who has, in all of our interactions, never really given me the time of day. I’m pretty sure this guy, this German progressive Pastor, doesn’t give a kernel what I think about anything, let alone what I think of him or his blog, so it was an insanely stupid thing to do all in all.

But the thing that had brought me to the edge, from where I made my comment suicide, was when Justice Kennedy managed to swing away from religious freedom and beat his chest to protect gay’s “autonomy of self that includes freedom...of certain intimate conduct,” though this Tarzan couldn’t find a vine long enough to protect a woman’s right to be protected while exercising that kind of autonomy (see Hobby Lobby). And I simply can’t shake the question, “why are gays winning,” and winning at an unheard of speed, while women are continually loosing, and not just in matters of sex, but across the board?

So that has been eating at me while everyone’s profile pictures turn rainbow, rubbing salt in the wound.

And I wonder, why in the world didn’t we think to get a pretty flag!

But boy, you should have heard the schizophrenic self-talk going on inside my head after I posted the comments… some kinda crazy for sure!

“Maybe a bit bossy there, telling other people what they can and can’t write on their own blog? Get a grip on yourself! Anyway, you’re one to talk, Lee! Haven’t seen you wear your superwoman cape for a long while…what are you doing to save the world, eh? And man, what a way to throw Gay people under the buss? What did they ever do to you? You can’t just go and pit one identity group against another one like that!...Can you? Think of all the gay people you know and love! Don’t they deserve the right to get married just as much as women around the world deserve the right

• to not be treated like an inanimate object that is raped countless times a day? 
• or to not have their genitals mutilated, 
• or to not be married to older men when they are 10, 
• or to not be beaten by their husbands, 
• to not have to cover their bodies from head to toe? 
• to not be punished as an adulteress for being raped
• to not experience sexual harassment 
• to not have acid thrown in their face
• to drive a car, 
• to earn equal pay for equal work, 
• to equal representation, 
• to education
• to equal opportunity to advance in their careers?

But Lee, you know it isn’t really about marriage, per se, but about combating the excluding stigma that homosexuals have faced and moving toward an inclusive society, where the human dignity of homosexuals is recognized, and they can enjoy all the same rights and privileges of heterosexual men and women.”

So I am embarrassed that I let my irritation over the enormous, humungous, amount of attention this specific minority group has gotten over the last ten years get the better of me, and I apologize for taking all of my frustration out on one particular blogger. I am also feeling some amount of shame over begrudging the gay community their victory so much, but I haven’t quite been able to shake that yet. 

For me the question still remains, why does this particular “human rights” issue garner so much attention? 

• Why is insuring that gays have no legal status of utmost concern, instigate militant opposition from, and continues to be a top priority for conservative theologians, bloggers and pastors, rather than riding, like the knights they believe themselves to be, to the aid of women who are suffering unimaginable hell on earth? 
• Why have progressive theologians, bloggers and pastors, all, or mostly all, who identify as feminists, spent most of their ink justifying this minority, rather than putting any noticeable muscle behind raising the visibility of women, their issues, and their successes, in their own progressive circles, in the church as a whole, and in the larger, global, community?

I am so thankful for men like Nicholas Kristof and Jimmy Carter, who not only recognize that women’s equality is the number one human rights issue of our century, but who also spend a majority of their digital space and their leg time spotlighting the less than glamorous issues affecting women, giving recognition for their efforts, and empowering women the world over. But it only makes me more suspicious: why have so many Christian men abandoned this field? It may be obvious why women’s equality is important to me; it is not so obvious why it isn’t important to them.

But I have learned my lesson and will follow the good advice another commenter gave me: rather than tell other people what they should or shouldn’t write about on their blog, to write my own blog instead. I guess if I want a different flag flying, I should follow Brittany Newsome’s brilliant example and climb the pole myself.

Now excuse me, while I go find my cape.

Sojourners

Brunch-n-More: The whole family enjoys it. Casual conversation with others over eggs and morning rolls with jam and honey, cold cuts, cheeses, coffee, chocolate milk. Catching up with each other, filling each other in on the latest news, expressing grief or joy over the local and global events, movie reviews. Deeper sharing while cleaning up the kitchen, putting the tables away, nuggets from the philosophical or theological book we are in the middle of, stories about the arduous road family, or oneself, had to take to immigrate to a new country… unimaginable hardship for some of us, lived through for others who are standing in the kitchen, drying plates, tossing eggshells. Even little three year old Alexander is helping to vacuum the floor. We all come from somewhere. And we are all welcome here.

We want to try and enter someone else’s journey. Someone from long ago. Someone whose life was an experiment. We are also experimenting today, with a new method: Biblio-drama. We read the story together, name the characters, and each choose a part. We have a few minutes to ourselves to read some background information about time and place, people and culture, and then we come together to re-enact the first steps of faith for a man who was called to a better country, called to be a pilgrim, a sojourner, called to be the father of many and blessing to all: Abram. (Genesis 12)

And, like all experiments, there are chinks. The teens are perhaps too self-conscious for this method. The younger kids are having a blast playing pretend, and milk it for all it is worth to muck around and giggle. The adults? Are we able to feel the tension that Abram must have felt? The apprehension? The heavy weight of responsibility for his family and his servants, which he carried for a decision that would dramatically effect the course of their lives? What it must have meant for Sarai to follow someone, who was following someone else? Can we allow Abram and Sarai’s story to enter our story, and draw us out of our comfort zone, to become sojourners of another kind? Especially when the only thing we have to weigh against all the skepticism, know-better advice, doom-sayers, and scoffers, not to mention our own fear of failure and of the unknown calamity that surely awaits us ahead, is God’s call to us to move on. God’s call? What the heck is that? Please!!!! That is sooo Old Testament! What does that even sound like? Feel like? How would I know what it is, if I ever heard it?

But we do know, don’t we? Wouldn’t want to tell anybody about it, but there is that special kind of gnawing, isn’t there? A voice our own, and yet not our own, that irritates the crap out of us, telling us it is time to move on… or sometimes, time to make a stand, and get in someone’s way, who is up to no good. But that is another story. This story is about moving out, being the first to go into uncharted territory, becoming a foreigner and stranger among strangers, being led moment by moment without a plan, about never being too old to try something new, going as a guest and not for conquest, about putting a little distance to ties that would otherwise keep us stagnant and immobile. This story, which could also be our story, is about the free flow of blessing, and culture and hope. It’s about the promise of life, where we perhaps least expected it.

As in all experiments, there were chinks in their travels… as any can see who keep reading Abram’s story. So, I feel like we are in good company, when we don’t nail a bulls eye every time. I still believe in experimenting, and I still hear the call to search for ways to include everyone, encourage participation, and search for meaning together not only in ancient stories, but in each other’s stories especially.

Open Letter to Jonathan for His Confirmation

Dear Jonathan,

Because you didn’t want me to give a long sermon during the confirmation celebration, I had to leave out some of what has been stirring in me in regards to this momentous step you’ve taken, but I would like to share those thoughts with you none the less.

We just celebrated Easter exactly one week before you confirmed your baptism this past Sunday, so the timing for our theme verse is just perfect. After Jesus rose from the dead he appeared to the still disbelieving disciples, Mark 16:15 and told them, “Go into all the world and preach the Good News to all creation.” A lot could be said about the verses that follow this one, but actually, this one short verse captures well what my deepest longings for you are.

“Preach” is the very center of the verse- the verb, without it the whole sentence falls apart. I think for too long I was made to think that, “to Preach the Gospel (Good News) meant to tell people the 4 spiritual laws and get them to sign a religious document, and swear them into our “group.” But that is not what Jesus did when he was on earth. Some might think, that “preaching” is something that only pastors or youth pastors, or only men can do, but that is not true. I don’t think Jesus is talking about giving a well crafted monologue to a group of passive listeners. I believe if we follow Jesus’ example, then “preaching” means that our whole being becomes a message of life, liberation and creation. “Preaching” means choosing to become a Channel of God’s Shalom as we live dialectically in this beautiful but often gruesome world. And that is what I deeply long for your life to be, Jonathan: a channel of God’s, creative, nurturing, protecting and liberating power, which offers others an alternative to enmity, abandonment, greed and violence.

Much more than just an excuse to use the colors Mint and Chocolate-brown as a decorating theme (which was more fun than anyone can possibly imagine:-), the pillars of this verse couldn’t be more relevant or more necessary to our present day if they had first appeared in the news paper yesterday. “Into all the world.... to all creation.” This is very simple, but immensely profound: There are no boundary markers, which delineate that God’s love and goodness has gone far enough! (“if I go to the far side of the sea, even there your love will find me. Ps.). There are no borders that can deny God’s death defying power passage. No one, no country, no ethnic group, no religion and no race has any claim to a monopoly on either God’s alternative to enmity and death or to God’s benevolent nurture and protection from oppression. My deep longing for you Jonathan, is that to the extent that you experience freedom and nurture, forgiveness and grace that those things never end at your borders, never end at your comfort zone, but spill over to your family, your street, your neighborhood, your school, your city. That you not only bring God’s love across the border of your city to your country, but that you break through the boundaries of your culture and have eyes of compassion for the “other” that seems so foreign and distant. God’s love is even not limited to our species! The good news is for all of creation, for every living thing. We are intrinsically connected, not only to each other, but to all of creation. If one part suffers, we all suffer. So, my prayer for you, Jonathan, is that God’s offer to live free of condemnation, alienation and destitution never runs up against any constraints in your life, but instead finds a free passage “into all the world... and to all creation”, because no one should be excluded from the goodness of God.

Only one teeny-tiny word I still want to chew on!

“Go!”

Unfortunately, too much of the message last weekend was “stay!” “Find a comfortable niche in our church, serve here, stay with us!” Jesus does sometimes say stay... but always only for a short time, to pray, to wait for direction, marching orders. Here he is saying a very clear GO! The Good News is not a group we invite people to, but something we bring with us everywhere we Go! Jonathan, you chose this year to “confirm”, reaffirm your child baptism. Baptism is an initiation right, it marks an entrance into something. Not an entrance into faith, faith in Christ is what led to the decision to be baptised/confirmed. But it is also not an entrance into a “group”! Not the “group” LKG (our local church), not the group “Christians,” and certainly not the group with the “stars upon thars!”

You have been confirmed into a MOVEMENT not a club! A movement that is scheming and plotting creative and alternative ways of spreading God’s freeing, nurturing and protecting love to everyone and every living thing everywhere! It is not something that we do as a hobby in our spare time, on Sundays or one night a week at band practice. It is a mighty, rushing river, and once we have put our foot into it, it grabs us with its full force and takes us on a white water adventure that will never bring us back to the same river bank from where we started. There is no “in part.” God doesn’t just toss us His spare change as He is passing by. He identifies Himself in solidarity with all of humanity; He invites us into deep communion with himself; and He invites us to share in all of His wealth! Your baptism was with water from this rushing river, and symbolizes your entrance into a Movement of people who have chosen to channel and translate God’s solidarity, His offer of communion and His divine wealth through every aspect of their being toward the whole world and all of creation without exception!

So what about the subject of this sentence? Gospel: Good News? That is a question I want to leave you with. As you watch this presentation, as you later move through our world, ask yourself, “What is good news for this world?”

Most of the information in this video is taken from the book "Everything Must Change," by Brian Mclaren.

Music is from Ben Harper ; Ben Harper and Jack Johnson

pictures are mostly stolen off the net, but many are from our time in PNG

Redemption is A Pink Chair with a Floral Seat Cover.

I guess she was only doing the natural thing. How many times had she been in the car, when we stopped at a pile of junk in front of some building to look for something that seemed “interesting?” The three old wardrobes (two of which we have passed on to friends or family), tables, fold up chairs, old wood, stools and even picture frames are now a part of our home ensemble thanks to a habit both Jan and I have picked up from our parents: scavenging! Don’t anybody get grossed out, we don’t go through people’s garbage cans, just the bulky furniture and old “stuff” that people don’t want or need anymore. What in the states would probably be a sure sign someone had been evicted, is called “Sperrmüll” here in Germany. We clean out our basement about once a year, call the city’s waste management department and make an appointment for our stuff to be picked up. We then organize it into very tidy piles of metal, wood, and plastic the night before. The pile usually inspires the neighbors to do a bit of spring cleaning themselves, and so the pile grows (and then inevitably shrinks a little again) by morning.

One day this past spring, Christa, my then 7 year old, still 2nd grader, comes home to tell me that she passed by one of these piles on her way home from school. “There are some chairs.” I “should go check them out.” I guess I was really busy that afternoon, because I didn’t squeeze in even a few minutes for my compulsive hobby, wasn’t swept away by the usual fantasy flow, that maybe someone, unbeknownst to them, was throwing away a valuable retro-designer piece. Next afternoon my then 7 year old, still in 2nd grade, with a heavy school bag on her back, on an unusually warm day, comes home carrying one of these chairs!

If I had fallen in love with the chair, I would have rushed out and retrieved the other three, but I didn’t. Realizing what Christa had done, however, I knew that I was going to have to get creative with this chair. My little dumpstering daughter was just too adorable. Of course I took my time getting around to the project, so it wasn’t until months later, once we got back from our summer vacation in England and still had lots of good weather for working outside, that I got to work filling out the dents, sanding, spray painting, removing the nasty layers of fabric and then covering the seat with a fresh new, but retro floral fabric from Ikea. The neighbors were intrigued. I love the chair now, and regret that I didn’t go back to get the other three when I had the chance.

What took one sentence to describe, tho, took hours and hours to actually do. Our “new,” “free” chair wasn’t free at all. The swath of new fabric wasn’t costly, but the two cans of spray paint weren’t cheap, and if I would charge a decent hourly rate (a local charges 30€ an hour), few could afford to buy the chair for the amount I would feel obliged to write on a price tag. One could say, that a chair which had lost all of what value it might have once had for its original or previous owner, has become priceless to its new owner (me) primarily because of her own attitude and actions toward the afore mentioned furniture. This activity of making a renewed, creative and significant investment in an object, a system or a person, so as to reclaim its lost or inherent value, or uncover its possible/potential value is what I call Redemption. It is one of the most beautiful words in the English language, an immensely profound reality, a “deep magic” existing since even before the foundations of the world. Redemption is the ultimate joker; it’s the ace up a sleeve. I feel mischievous, almost cunning, when I have succeeded in turning something found on a garbage pile into something beautiful and functional, like I’ve circumvented some ubiquitous consumer principle; outwitted the odious constricting tentacles of decay, deterioration, and yes, even death itself.

The Redemption Reality offers us a way to view not only broken and unwanted things, but broken and unwanted people, broken relationships, dysfunctional systems and miserable circumstances. For a Redeemer, each is a challenge to be creative, make a significant and personal investment and cheekily break the rules of death and decay in order to make something beautiful and of immeasurable value. In this vein, beauty truly is in the eye of the Redeemer. I am immensely pleased that my daughter seems to already be infected with this kind of foresight.

Jonathan's Confirmation

April 19th we celebrated Jonathan’s confirmation (Lutheran version of Bar Mitzvah, without any of the really challenging parts!) with close friends and family from out of town. I’m posting this only now, because I waited for the photo’s from the “official” photographer, who is to thank for documenting the ceremony for the families. After the church ceremony, we celebrated with a lunch and afternoon tea in a newly renovated old school house, which has been converted to a neighborhood, multi generational community center. Among many other events/programs, they encourage the performing arts by hosting Sunday matinée concerts. Jan and I have performed one of our “story concerts” there several weeks ago, getting a positive review in our local paper. In addition to the great location for our party of about 40, we had the opportunity of engaging a catering service of which I have become a huge fan. I will write more about it in my next blog, because I am so impressed with it and with the man who started it. Fitting to our “into all the world,” international theme, we had a buffet with hot and cold dishes from a myriad of countries mostly in the southern hemisphere, the recipes of which stemmed from the home countries of the women who cooked them.

We kicked off the party with a champagne reception and game. Upon arrival everyone got a paper with a country and pertinent information about that country taped to their back. Then everyone had to ask yes or no questions to try and find out what country they had, asking no one person more than two questions. When everyone was let into the main dining hall, they found their table by looking for the one labeled with the continent of their country and got a “grab bag” of table mates. We also had a large, blank map posted to one wall, in which guests where asked to write in any and all of the countries they were able to name - we, as a group, filled in almost all of them- and then they could also use the post-it arrows to mark all the countries they had already been to or lived in. As you can see from the pictures, our World theme was carried thru the entire decoration as well.

Through the afternoon, however, Jonathan was the center of attention, and not only was he (and we even more so) overwhelmed with an abundance of very generous gifts, but he was also the subject of a fun quiz show, was serenaded by little Alex singing, “He’s got the whole world in His hands,” and was featured in a back drop of a running slide presentation with accompanying background music. Also his very creative God-parents, who are long time friends and have been very engaged in both Jonathan’s and Charis’ lives since their baptism, staged a couple of gigs. Stephen performed a song on guitar, and Hella peddled a sundry of costume hats and accessories for guests to choose from for their big photo debut behind a large antique frame, thus giving Jonathan a comical documentation of every guest.

Below are pictures of the day, and HERE is an open letter from me to Jonathan and a presentation (here the extended english version) which was shown as the climax of our theme that afternoon.

We are very thankful for the presence and participation of all of our friends and family at this celebration, and are even more touched and grateful for the involvement of so many in the lives of our children! We are truly blessed.

Good Friday

The streets are crowded with pointed fingers,

open windows, scornful sneers

self-righteousness breathing past every

curtain sheer

Heads tossed back, noses high, 

lips are tightly curled and wry

Eyes are squinted, scornful, wild,

darting, dancing like a lusty fire

Under shade of shadow, 

dark and night

my heart is pounding, racing, aching, 

slipping hastily out of sight

Endless are the alleys- cursed this

wretched winding maze

No safe place for me – no where to 

escape their dreadful, daunting gaze

Down and down,

 swept out through the city gates

by their stinging jeers, “how dare you

stain our Holy place.”

One against a vast universe

One in an endless void

One roaming in a haunted silence

thoughts scoring a reckless noise

One tired of straining, reaching out 

for something to hold

awkwardly stumbling through this

blackened cold

Ascending rough and jagged 

steep incline

Hope for friendly years long poured out

like bitter wine

Shameful memories taunt,

painful pictures flash

as knees against these craggy rocks 

are dashed

The climb is over as the ruthless sun

begins its rule

breathless I stare at the city 

set and shimmering like a jewel

How fair and admirable you seem

taken at a far off glance

With veil of masked perfection, silence, and 

denial, you weave a master dance

But underneath the lying silken cover

lurks controlling, condemning an 

unappeasable, moody lover

How I strived to curt you, 

paying much too dear a cost

I played my hand at your game 

but like a fool have lost

And now from limb and geist 

Have gone the fight

And fitful, tardy sleep relieves 

this early hour of its deceitful sight

All at once my every sinew, 

muscle bound

wrenched from rest by a 

nightmarish sound 

The sharp and blood-thirsty cracking 

of a whip

mean and menacing shouts 

from a battery of mocking lips

fueled to a frenzy by their 

righteous cause

slandering the heretic

for breaking their laws

Fear fraught and horror stricken

I lie low and frozen to the ground

Panic struck and heart sickened

to have so soon been found

Cringing, shrinking, wishing every past wrong 

would disappear

all the while the shouting mob

draws near

Knowing all is lost

I hold my breath and wait

for the scourging blow

the culmination of their hate

❈

But what is this?

One man alone so bold

stands with outstretched arms

to bid this band of fury hold?

And what such a man is he?

My wet and wishful eyes can barely see

this foolish act which may 

yet set me free

Beyond belief he stands exposed

and stays an army in its path

Suspending comprehension,

he remains composed 

as he consumes their awful wrath

Bruised and battered his skin in tatters

and soaked in blood red

Taunted and tired his honor mired

 a cruel and caustic crown upon his head

Solemn and sober he endures

their morbid glee

Sovereign and serene as they 

nail him to a tree

 Such noble assembly

does not stop to rest

they hurl their insults and abuse

they jeer and jest

hang a wooden sign 

as a last assault

 King of The Jews

they credit to his  fault

But naked outstretched limbs

withstand the fury of disgrace

and low and tortured whisper

   commands his final case. 

Arms open wide

 invite an enemy’s embrace

as stolen breath

 requites this ignorant, lynching mob

 with amazing grace,

Winding back up through 

the city’s malevolent maze

I will never forget the tears,

 the blood, his benevolent gaze

Love has subdued hate, 

subverted violence, swallowed shame

and needing no one’s permission

I am free to do the same

The Deadly Box

 The Deadly Box

It’s kind of cramped in here

I guess it wouldn’t be a bad spot

for a game of Hide and Seek

...a short game

But I can’t stretch my legs

My head is here between my knees

my elbow is jabbed into my leg

Hey, this box is very UNCOMFORTABLE

I don’t really want to be in here for too long

I mean, how am I supposed to eat?

Take in new nourishment?

Or go to the bathroom!?

You know, getting rid of all that stuff 

that has been processed and 

has no more growth value

There certainly is no room for 

GROWING in here! 

Not in any direction!

I can’t even change my position, 

turn on the other side

or even lift my head 

from between my knees

And I definitely don’t want anyone 

to see me this way!

I’m not in a very flattering position

My better sides don’t come to light

not in this place

I’m over due for a shower

Oh how nice that would be...

a warm shower 

to take away all the dirt and sweat, 

which is a part of life, 

whether one is in a box or not,

Ah, to feel fresh and clean again

It’s beginning to smell!

What with no bathroom, 

no shower

no fresh air...

Fresh air!

Yes, air (breathing)

I’m getting rather short of air

(breathing harder)

I’m afraid I can’t get enough to breath

(gasping for breath)

I’m running out of...

Hey, you, 

don’t go away!

(gasping)

I can’t breath!

(gasping faster)

Come back!

(desperate)

Don’t leave me here to....

(desperately gasping)

Please...

(faintly gasping)

LET ME OUT OF THIS BOX!!

“You have heard that the law of Moses says, “Do not murder. If you commit murder, you are subject to judgment.”  But I say, if you are angry with someone, you are subject to judgement! If you put someone in a box and label it “idiot,” you are in danger of being (tried for murder).  And if you label someone “fool,” you are in danger of facing the ultimate judgement yourself”  

- Jesus