27th March 2013

I was delighted when the hostess asked if I would be willing to exchange my allocated seat for one located in the exit aisle, with the extra legroom. My heart leaped within me. Room to stretch out my legs. Room to move. Room to casually cross my legs, first this way, then that. And all looked upon with an envious eye by those crammed into their allocated pigeon holes. My mind never seriously engaged with the thought of an emergency. Not even when the hostess explained if I would be willing to fulfil my responsibility in the event of a disaster, to grasp the window, and throw it outside, so that I and my fellow pigeons could escape.

It occurs to me in this lead up to Easter that the same thing can be done with the Easter message. Heard in the ears as one thing, but heard in the heart as another. Heard in the ears as “God so loved the world that he gave his only Son”, but heard in the heart as “I can’t wait to get to Nannas because she always gives the best chocolate eggs”.  Or heard in the ears as a gracious chance to escape when the world crashes into the judgement seat of God, but heard in the heart as the chance to get away for a four day long weekend.

No plane that I’ve even been on has ever crashed, and safety records in Oz are good, such that the likelihood of having to evacuate in an emergency are pretty minimal. A little bit of hearing the words “in case of an emergency” as “extra leg room” is excusable. Not so sure though, that hearing the words “precious blood of the Lamb” as “chocolate bunnies”, is likely to be passed over as lightly.

DM 26^th March 2013