Easter reflections, and of course, Easter eggs

I have to say these past few days I have felt rather discombobulated. I have twice gone to the supermarket to get cabbages and greens for our goats and twice come back with bags of groceries, but no greens. On Thursday I took a shower and then realised I hadn’t shaved first; male readers will understand the significance and yesterday I tried paying for a pint of milk with US dollars. Today is the first time I have posted anything on Twitter for nearly a week, which is not like me. So yes, a little discombobulated for sure. Hopefully the long Easter weekend will see normal service resume.

It may well be the exertions, time differences and so on of our recent Holy Land pilgrimage which has left me feeling out of sorts. Our last day was Tuesday and we had a late departure from Israel. It was an exhausting journey home. Ben Gurion airport in Tel Aviv was packed to the rafters with people trying to get away before the Easter rush. We waited over 3 hours to get to the baggage desk and then another 1 hour to get through security. Inevitably our plane was delayed but at least we didn’t miss it. Wednesday, we travelled up from Heathrow airport, and after getting on the train back to Blackpool we were finally able to sit back and enjoy a couple of hours of quiet relaxation. Thursday I was back at work, but thankfully the roads were quiet. Getting up at 04.30 though was a bit of a challenge.

Don’t get me wrong, it was a fantastic trip and we packed so much into each day. It was incredible to stand in so many places that were familiar to us from Sunday School days. Each stop brought the stories and readings from the Bible to life. That said, there were one or two places where your imagination was tested. It seems over the centuries, any geographical site that had a religious significance to whoever was ruling Israel at the time (what we now know as modern day Israel, Palestine and Jordan) built a church, mosque or cathedral to mark its sacredness. One such church, was built over a rock that Jesus was said to have used to climb on to the donkey he rode into Jerusalem days before the Last Supper. Feel free to make your own mind up, all stories are important in one way or another.

With such a busy itinerary the one thing I didn’t do while away was to read the news stories – I simply lost track of what was going on in the UK, and the rest of the world. I have made up for it on my return. Sadly, as I write this blog, the war in Ukraine has been raging for 53 days, with no end yet in sight. I felt very humbled reflecting that while I had been away, this war was still being fought. Covid is still causing problems for the effective running of the NHS (and many other organisations and services). Harry said hello to his Mum for the first time in two years, promising to bring the kids next time. Our Home Secretary’s new bright idea is to send channel crossing migrants off to Rwanda. You couldn’t make it up. Thankfully the UN refugee agency appears to have stepped in and shown the humanity, generosity and compassion that we should have expected from our own politicians.

Now regular readers of this blog know I try and steer clear of politics, but with both our Prime Minister and the Chancellor being fined for breaking the Covid laws they imposed upon the rest of us just defies belief. Equally, that they are still in post is almost unbelievable. Sadly perhaps, not quite as unbelievable are the comments made by Michael Fabricant. He is the Conservative MP for Lichfield. As an aside, in a world of pronouns identification, what category or person he is, is up for debate.  

Last week, in defending the PM’s fine, imposed for breaking his (the PM’s) own laws, Mr Fabricant said that the PM was no different from teachers or nurses who during the pandemic, and after a long shift would retire to the staff room for a quick drink. Whilst the memes on social media were quite amusing, I was left thinking just how ignorant, disrespectful and out of touch so many of our politicians are. To say I was incensed with his comments would be an understatement. I quickly emailed my MP, another Conservative, but a man I greatly respect. Equally promptly he emailed me back. He absolutely despaired at Fabricant’s comments and disrespect for all those who had done, and continue to do, so much for others, since the beginning of the pandemic. I felt his despair, and I’m sure the absurdity of the story and how it landed played into my discombobulation.  Thankfully I was rescued from this emerging existential crisis by a story about the meaning of Easter – which is all about eggs. Of course. 

Having just come back from a pilgrimage around the Holy Land you might find this strange (or simply discombobulating). So, with tongue firmly in cheek, and fingers crossed behind my back – here is the story. Eggs have been central to our existence for thousands of years. Eggs are the very microcosm of our universe. Indeed, research conducted by NASA suggest that the universe is an ellipsoid. That is, egg shaped. Its shape of an egg makes it almost impossible to crush in the palm of your hand. Its shape protects the potential life inside. I say potential as we have a cockerel (called Gregory Peck) who every morning (and it has to be said, throughout the day) will regularly get it on with his hens. We think about this with every egg we eat. Yet every egg contains almost the perfect mix of amino acids required to build human tissue – it’s second only to a mother’s breast milk.

The egg is both simple and complex – rather like how we might use it. For example, if you ask Google the question ‘how do I boil an egg?’ you will get over 2 billion hits. Despite chocolate Easter eggs being around since 1875 (thank you John Cadbury), this year we decided not to give our children chocolate Easter eggs. We gave a gift of money instead. Just like the Israeli – Palestinian conflict (which sadly since our leaving Israel has once again flared up) I believe the journey towards peace and harmony can only come from looking forward and not backwards to history. The last word must go to our Palestinian Christian guide, Bassam, who noted that the future of Israel and Palestine will only be secured when the rivers of blood spilled over the years become water under the bridge. Wise words indeed.