When the ordinary is too much to bear
and the days have bled one into another,
when the to-do list is too long
and everywhere we look seems to demand
more than we can give,

In January 2017, I was in deep in wedding planning mode. We were trying to save money on a DJ and trying to make decisions on some truly mundane choices. Should “Don’t Stop Believing” be at the beginning to get people on the dance floor or at the end as a final send off? Who can I trust to operate an iPhone to play “Concerning Hobbits” as my fiancée walks down the aisle, who will know how to fade out the volume at the correct time?

The religion I knew while growing up was about being right(eous), and I believed it was the only way to do religion. It didn't sit well with me at times, but I didn't know there were alternatives. I thought the Good News was that some of us, if we believed (and were very good but it wasn't our goodness that saved us but we still had to be very good), we would be "saved." The only thing that mattered in eternity was how right we were in our beliefs. Putting an end to injustice on earth wasn't as important as convincing people of how certain we were that we were right(eous).

As I write, my family is vacationing in Costa Rica. We spent the first portion near the base of the Arenal Volcano in the Northwest and then this last third in the Central Highlands, specifically the Los Angeles Cloud Forest. Among other ecotourist activities, we’ve gone mountain biking and white-water rafting, done a hanging bridges and canopy (i.e.,zipline) tour, looked for wildlife during nighttime and early morning hikes, and soaked in the hot springs like the self-respecting Asians we are.

It is Easter morning and the world is broken. Alleluia.

It is Easter morning and we have been told a lie: The crucifixion of a christ was a necessary injustice. Alleluia.

To some, the Messiah was predicted to be a political leader, a singular hero, liberation through the only means that liberation could come. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. And no one had a blueprint for what would come next.

They identified with Jesus, because Jesus identified with them. Whipped, flogged, slapped in the face, crucified, hung.