The Man on the Road

So much in this life is thrust upon us suddenly.  We have no idea its coming, we are completely unprepared, and afterward we are never the same again.

We all know the feeling.  What seems like a normal day is suddenly changed into a day we will never forget.  A phone call comes that completely takes our breath away.  The doctor delivers news that we have been dreading to hear.  News arrives that a friend is in deep trouble, life threatening trouble.   An ordinary day becomes extraordinary.  Filled with shock, pain, confusion, wondering, and sometimes panic.

And then, when the day changes, we must face it.  We cannot flee.

For the past week or so during Lent, and coming now into Holy Week, I am struck by the moment in which Simon is abruptly thrust into the path of Jesus.  We know he was from Cyrene, which is now Libya.  But beyond that, and the names of his sons, the rest is mystery.  What was he doing in Jerusalem?  Why was he beside just this road, at just this time of day?  Was he there by accident, or did he plan to be there?  Did he hear the noise along the Via de la Rosa, and come running to see what was going on?

Here is an otherwise ordinary man, thrust into a day he will never forget.  Just like we have been at one point or another in our lives.  And, someday it will happen again, to us all.

We have no idea why Simon was there, or why he was compelled to carry the cross.  Luke's gospel emphasizes the coercion of Simon, citing that he was seized, the Cross of Christ laid upon him, and forced to carry it behind Jesus.  It’s unclear here even what the motivation of the Roman soldiers was.  They may have feared that Jesus, thoroughly beaten by the Romans, may not survive carrying the Cross long enough to be crucified.  Or maybe they caught something in the eyes of Simon that made them want to force him to become a participant in this cruel parade.  Was there something there in his eyes?  Fear, or shock, or horror?  Perhaps a fleeting glance of compassion?

Simon was caught up in a moment of cataclysmic significance.  He thought he was just standing beside the road.  But really, he was standing at a place where Heaven and Earth were colliding.  And after this day, nothing would ever be the same again.

We all face days, and moments that change us forever.  And most of the time, we do not enter these events as willing participants.  Neither did Simon.  But I wonder, and I am guessing that afterward, he was never the same again.

Waiting Ad Infinitum, Jury Duty

The universe has aligned against me.  I have been selected to appear for jury duty.  Welcome to the Land that Time Forgot.

As I write this, I am sitting in the 11th floor of the LA County Criminal Justice Center, a lovely mid-60s architectural mistake in downtown LA.  I am in a room of about 150 other semi-conscious, reading, semi-comatose, sleeping, and staring-off-in-the-distance souls.  This room is called the "Juror Assembly Area".  Perhaps a better name would be Terrestrial Purgatory.   But this Purgatory has wireless, thank you God!

As I look at the Catholic Encyclopedia, I note that "the sleep of peace" may be a part of Purgatory.  A number of those around me are already there. 

This place is quite unremarkable.  TSA style screening upon building entry (I have been "wanded" twice), a dim and completely uninviting lobby, administrative staff who appear as if they should be cast in a zombie movie, and elevator service that employs all the efficiency of the Victorian Era.  It takes from 5 to 10 minutes for one of four elevators to arrive at whatever floor you are on.  Hello, LA County....they now have an app for that!

There are about 150 people in this room.  About 120 of us have been waiting all day, with only one jury being empaneled to leave the room.  This seems strangely odd, and suggests to me that the County might want to take all this money being spent on jury room furniture and painfully slow elevator performance, and instead hire a group of competent judges and/or retired lawyers who can certainly try cases without the need for those of us in this waiting room.  I am fine for giving the judiciary more power in this regard.  Or, take the money and throw us all a Toga Party.  Either would be fine.  Its the sitting and waiting that is beyond comprehension. 

A feeling of suspicion about the jury system also comes from a number of years of experience as an occasional court expert witness in my work.  A number of times I have testified and looked upon a panel of jurors, knowing with relative certainty that these good people had no idea what I was talking about as an expert, and were more interested in when break time was, or what was on TV that night.  I know I am feeling like that right now.  I would rather watch Dancing With the Stars for an entire day than suffer through this immense and interminable bore.

It is said that "Good things come to those who wait".  I am hoping for a pony, at least.