(Eastern Orthodox icon showing Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead)
“Jesus wept” is the shortest and one of the most profound verses in the New Testament. In those two words, we see Jesus’s humanity and feel his pain. It may have taken scholars a few hundred years to officially decide that Jesus was both human and divine, but the people who encountered him during his lifetime felt his Presence and his Power and witnessed both his human nature and his divinity. They were touched and forever changed.
John 11:1 to 12:11 tells the story of Lazarus’ illness and death and Jesus’ miracle:
When Jesus hears that Lazarus is seriously ill, he tells his disciples, “This sickness is not unto death, but for the glory of God, that the Son of God may be glorified through it.” Two days later, Jesus (knowing that Lazarus is dead) and his disciples set out for Judea. By the time they arrive at their destination, Lazarus has been dead for four days. Lazarus’ sisters, Martha and Mary, remind Jesus that their brother would not have died if Jesus had been there. Surrounded by mourners, Mary falls at Jesus’ feet in despair. Touched by her faith, her love, and her grief, he begins to weep.
At the entrance to the tomb, Jesus cries, “Lazarus, come forth!” Lazarus hears him and emerges from the tomb. The result of this event is two-fold: believers are confirmed in their beliefs and doubters believe; and people who witnessed the miracle inform the Pharisees.
The Pharisees, concerned about their own positions and survival, conspire against Jesus and plot his death. In the meantime, Jesus and his disciples return to Judea to visit Lazarus and his sisters. It is during this visit that Judas Iscariot questions Jesus and his mission and begins to plot against him.
The significance of Lazarus’ resurrection cannot be underestimated. Jesus used Lazarus – someone he loved – to illustrate the glory and power of God and his own role in God’s plan on earth. Lazarus’ death and resurrection foreshadow Jesus’ own fate and emphasize his promise that anybody who believes in him will also be resurrected into a new life.
(“Jesus is Just Alright” – The Doobie Brothers)
(Superstar Scene – Jesus Christ Superstar)
(“Put Your Hand in the Hand” – Ocean)
Happy Easter!
Dawn Pisturino
April 8, 2022
Copyright 2022 Dawn Pisturino. All Rights Reserved.
Meditation doesn’t have to be done in silence. It’s nice to sit there quietly, watching the fluffy white clouds of your thoughts float silently away until your mind turns into one big void of nothingness. But, if your goal is simply to relax, clear away your negative thoughts, and ease your tense muscles, there are scores and scores of musical recordings out there that can meet your goal: New Age, Celtic, East Indian, Native American, Chinese, Japanese, Easy Listening, Jazz, Classical, and more.
Music can alter our mood and our consciousness and take us away into a magical world of peace, harmony, and complete relaxation.
Here’s a classical piece that is just heavenly, written by Jules Massenet, and performed by the renowned violinist, Itzhak Perlman. Give it a try!
May you be blessed with a peaceful, relaxing day today!
Dawn Pisturino
April 7, 2022
Copyright 2022 Dawn Pisturino. All Rights Reserved.
What is a rebus? According to Meriam-Webster Dictionary:
Definition of rebus –
“a representation of words or syllables by pictures of objects or by symbols whose names resemble the intended words or syllables in sound; also: a riddle made up of such pictures or symbols.”
Highlights for Children is a children’s magazine which includes a rebus in nearly every issue.
WHO ATE THE CACTUS?
byDawn Pisturino
👦🏾 and 👧 are visiting a 🌵 garden in Arizona. The 🌵🌵 bloom 🌹🌹, 💐, and 🌺 in the spring.
The 💐 are pretty. But something is wrong. The 🌵🌵 are full of holes. 👦🏾 sees big 🦷🦷 marks along the sides.
“Who ate the 🌵 ?”👦🏾 asks.
“A big red🐦,” 👧 says.
“Nah, 🐦🐦 don’t have 🦷🦷.”
“A slinky green🦎,” 👧 says.
“Nope, 🦎🦎 are too small.”
“How about a 🦈?” 👧 says, laughing.
Suddenly, two long gray ears pop up from the center of the 🌵 patch. A huge🐰 leaps out and runs away.
“Wait! There goes your answer!” 👧 chuckles.
👦🏾 agrees.
Dawn Pisturino
October 17, 2012; April 5, 2022
Copyright 2012-2022 Dawn Pisturino. All Rights Reserved.
I’m late posting this, but I want to thank Gabriela and her wonderful staff at Masticadores USA for publishing my poem. Please visit Masticadores USA and give them your support. Thank you!
(Church of All Russian Saints Russian Orthodox Church Outside Russia, Burlingame, California, USA)
When I lived in California, I used to walk by this church all the time. It always fascinated me with its blue and gold domes, magnificent painting of the Virgin Mary, and clean, white walls. I rarely saw anybody there, and it seemed like one of those mysteries of life, kept locked up and tucked away, that strikes us with awe but never gets solved. For some reason, I was thinking about this church in relation to Easter and the disaster in Ukraine and decided to look it up.
Established in 1952, the church is part of the Western American Diocese of the Russian Orthodox Church Outside Russia. This Diocese is also called the “Russian Church in Exile” because it has always seen itself as “part of the suffering Orthodox Church in Russia during the decades of Soviet turmoil, persecution, and subjugation of the Church and its faithful.” In 2007, the Diocese reunited with the Mother Church in Russia.
Like everybody else, our Russian immigrants here in America are shocked and dismayed by the Russian invasion of Ukraine. Here’s the message of hope and prayer posted on the church’s website:
“We are overcome with grief over the tragic events in Ukraine, for many of us the land of our forefathers, and for some the land where our relatives live today. We pray to the All-Merciful Lord and His Most-Holy Mother for speedy secession of all hostilities and long-lasting peace.
“Prayer to the Lord: O Lord, Lover of mankind, King of the ages and Giver of good things: having destroyed the divisions of enmity and granted peace unto the human race, grant even now peace unto Thy servants, planting within them the fear of Thee and establishing them in love for one another. Quench all strife, and remove all dissensions and temptations; for Thou art our peace and to Thee do we offer up glory, to the Father and to the Son and to the Holy Spirit, now and ever and unto the ages of ages, Amen. Владыко Человѣколюбче, Царю вѣковъ и Подателю благихъ, разрушившiй вражды средостѣнiя и мир подавшiй роду человѣческому, даруй и нынѣ миръ рабомъ Твоимъ, вкорени нихъ страхъ Твой и другъ къ другу любовь утверди: угаси всяку распрю, отыми вся разногласiя и соблазны. Яко Ты еси миръ нашъ и Тебе славу возсылаемъ, Отцу и Сыну и Святому Духу, нынѣ и присно и во вѣки вѣковъ. Аминь.
“Prayer to the Mother of God: O much sorrowing Mother of God, more highly exalted than all other of the daughters of the earth, according to thy purity and the multitude of thy suffering endured by thee on earth: Hearken to our sighs and soften the hearts of evil men, and protect us under the shelter of thy mercy. For we know no other refuge and ardent intercessor apart from thee, but as thou hast great boldness before the One Who was born of thee, help and save us by thy prayers, that without offense we may attain the Heavenly Kingdom where, with all the saints, we will sing the thrice-holy hymn to One God Almighty in the Trinity, always now and ever and unto the ages of ages. Amen. О, многострадальная Мати Божiя, Превысшая всѣхъ дщерей земли, по чистотѣ Своей и по множеству страданiй, Тобою на земли перенесенныхъ, прiими многоболезненныя воздыханiя наша и сохрани насъ подъ кровомъ Твоея милости. Инаго бо прибѣжища теплаго предстательста развѣ Тебѣ не вѣмы, но яко дерзновенiе имущая къ Иже изъ Тебѣ рожденному, помози и спаси ны молитвами Своими, да непреткновенно достигнемъ Царствiя Небеснаго, идеже со всѣми святыми будемъ воспѣвати въ Троицѣ единому Богу нынѣ и присно и во вѣки вѣков. Аминь.”
(Parish Choir Lent Recital, 2018)
Whatever your faith – Jew, Muslim, Hindu, Buddhist, Protestant, Catholic, Russian/Greek/Eastern Orthodox, Wiccan – please pray and extend your best wishes and hopes for the people of Ukraine!
Dawn Pisturino
April 4, 2022
Copyright 2022 Dawn Pisturino. All Rights Reserved.
Fighting terrorism is a different situation than fighting a conventional war because it is not about one nation in conflict with another nation. Terrorists embody an ideology which conflicts with established culture and values. In the case of Afghanistan and Al Qaeda, radical interpretations of Islam were used to recruit jihadists to wage guerilla warfare against all people in the West and even other Muslims who did not agree with their interpretation (9-11 Commission, 2004, pg. 55-68). This defies both the jus ad bellum and jus in bellum traditional requirements for just war.
Jean Bethke Elshtain and the War on Terrorism
Osama bin Laden fought as a freedom fighter (mujahideen) in Afghanistan against the Soviet Union. After the Russians were driven out of the country, he organized the terrorist group, Al Qaeda. The CIA did not become aware of Al Qaeda and its leader until 1996-1997 (9-11 Commission, 2004, pg. 55-68). After the August 7, 1998 bombings of U.S. embassies in Kenya and Tanzania, Osama bin Laden became one of the FBI’s “most wanted fugitives” (Haddow, Bullock, & Coppola, 2017, pg. 390). After the attacks on the World Trade Center on September 11, 2001, President George W. Bush ordered the creation of the Department of Homeland Security with Executive Order No. 13228 on October 8, 2001 (Exec. Order No. 13,228, 2001, pg. 51812).
Although Osama bin Laden and the majority of 9/11 hijackers were from Saudi Arabia, the Al Qaeda training camps were located in Afghanistan. In fact, forces within Afghanistan and Pakistan were collaborating with the terrorists. Al Qaeda also had the support of regular citizens in both Afghanistan and Pakistan who felt a strong hatred for the United States. The Taliban, a fundamentalist Islamic group, had taken over large parts of Afghanistan and supported the use of terror against the West (9/11 Commission, 2004, pg. 47-68).
Invading Afghanistan was a natural response to the terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center. But the U.S. military should have stayed focused on destroying the Taliban and Al Qaeda in Afghanistan before embarking on a war in Iraq, especially since the 9/11 Commission found no involvement by Iraq with the attacks on the World Trade Center (9-11 Commission, 2004, pg. 47-80). Imposing economic sanctions on Pakistan instead of giving them economic aid, in my opinion, might have yielded results sooner.
The invasion of Afghanistan was justified, from the point of view of Jean Bethke Elshtain, because “those who launched the 9/11 attacks cannot be reasoned with, in the manner the ‘humanists’ would like – and that no change in U.S. policy would have that effect – for the simple reason that: they loathe us because of who we are and what our society represents” (Rengger, 2018, pg. 220-221).
What Role did the U.S. have in Afghanistan Beyond Military Action?
“In October 2001, the United States of America initiated air strikes on Afghanistan, followed by a ground offensive called Operation Enduring Freedom, to topple the Taliban government and drive out Al Qaeda forces hosted in Afghanistan following the 11 September 2001 terrorist attacks on the United States” (Bella, Giacca, & Casey-Maslen, 2011, pg. 47, 48). A new government was installed, and with a new regime in control, U.S. troops became peacekeepers, which undermined the original military offensive. Al Qaeda and the Taliban continued to push back at the expense of American troops. Although bin Laden was finally killed in 2011, this did not extinguish Al Qaeda or the Taliban. The U.S. concentrated on re-building Afghanistan, and a new terrorist threat emerged under President Obama: ISIS.
Elshtain believed that the United States’ War on Terrorism was just because “the United States must take the lead – not alone, to be sure – but it must take the lead in defending human dignity. ‘As the world’s superpower’”” (Rengger, 2018, pg. 221). If the United States failed in Afghanistan, in my opinion, it is because we lost sight of our goal to destroy the terrorist camps and the power of the terrorists in Afghanistan and Pakistan. By not going in and finishing the job, the United States left itself open for more terrorist attacks on American soil, especially since the Taliban now control Afghanistan.
Given the Larger Human Rights Implication that Elshtain Addresses, what Role did the World at Large have in Combating Terrorism?
Few countries in the world have been left untouched by terrorism, whether it is direct terrorist attacks or taking in refugees from war-torn countries. For security reasons alone, the United Nations and all countries in the world should be working together to address the issue – which certainly will not go away anytime soon.
Ultimately, it is the non-combatant citizens who suffer the most when terrorists are wreaking havoc in a country. According to Amnesty International (2011): “The Taliban and related insurgent groups in Afghanistan show little regard for human rights and the laws of war and systematically and deliberately target civilians, aid workers, and civilian facilities like schools (particularly girls’ schools)” (Bella, Giacca, & Casey-Maslen, 2011, pg. 51).
The larger humanitarian issues of violence, refugees, homelessness, poverty, and starvation affect all nations in one way or another, and all nations have a moral obligation to address it. Elshtain called it the “principle of equal regard, faced with a terrible situation, an enormity, one is obliged to think about what is happening, and to conclude that the people dying are human beings and as such equal in moral regard to us” (Dissent, 2005, pg. 60).
References
9-11 Commission. (2004). 9-11 Commission report. Retrieved from
Brother Bear groaned. “I don’t wanna baby-sit! Sister Bear always gets me into trouble!”
“Now, now,” said Mama Bear. “I have to take Baby Bear to the doctor. I’m counting on you to take care of Sister Bear.”
“Can we make chocolate chip cookies when you get home?” Brother Bear asked.
Mother Bear laughed. “We’ll see,” she said.
After Mother Bear left with Baby Bear, Brother Bear turned on the TV so Sister Bear could watch her favorite cartoons.
“I’m hungry,” Sister Bear said. “Can I please have a peanut butter and jelly sandwich?”
Brother Bear made a face. “Okay – since you said please.”
“You’re the best big brother in the world!” Sister Bear said.
Brother Bear went to the kitchen. He made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and put it on a green plate. He poured a big glass of milk. He carried the green plate and the glass of milk into the living-room for Sister Bear. Sister Bear was gone!
“Sister Bear!” Brother Bear called. But nobody answered.
Brother Bear put the green plate and glass of milk on a table. He ran down the hallway to look for Sister Bear.
First, he looked in Sister Bear’s room. There were lots of dolls on Sister Bear’s pink bed – but no Sister Bear.
Then, he looked in Baby Bear’s room. There were lots of stuffed animals in Baby Bear’s white crib – but no Sister Bear.
Brother Bear knocked on the bathroom door. “Sister Bear, are you in there?”
He heard water running.
Sister Bear squealed with delight. “Wheeeee! I love bubbles! Lots and lots of bubbles!”
Brother Bear groaned. What was he going to do? Mama Bear would be home soon. Brother Bear tried to open the bathroom door. But it was locked.
“Sister Bear, open the door!” Brother Bear yelled.
“I’m taking a bubble bath all by myself,” Sister Bear said. “Wheeeee!”
Brother Bear heard Sister Bear splashing in the water. He heard the water running in the bathtub.
I have to get in there and turn off the water, Brother Bear thought.But how?
The window. Could he climb through the bathroom window? He decided to try.
Brother Bear ran outside and found the bathroom window. It was open. But Brother Bear was not tall enough to climb through the window.
He found an old wooden chair. He placed it under the bathroom window. He stood on top of the chair. Now, he was tall enough to climb through the window.
Sister Bear laughed when she saw Brother Bear climb through the window. She blew bubbles at him with her bubble wand.
The water in the bathtub was beginning to run on the floor. Bubbles floated everywhere!
Brother Bear turned off the water in the bathtub. He was mad.
“Look at the mess you made!” Brother Bear shouted. “Mama Bear’s gonna be mad!”
Sister Bear began to cry.
Brother Bear opened the bathroom door. He heard a noise in the kitchen. Mama Bear was home.
What should he do?
Brother Bear grabbed some towels from the linen closet and threw them on the bathroom floor. He cleaned up all the water with the towels. Then he pulled the plug in the bathtub.
Sister Bear laughed as the water went gurgle-gurgle down the drain. She climbed out of the bathtub. Brother Bear dried her with a towel. He helped her to get dressed.
Brother Bear took Sister Bear to the living-room and put her in a chair.
“Here’s your peanut butter and jelly sandwich,” Brother Bear said.
Mama Bear came into the living-room. “How did it go?” she asked.
Sister Bear became excited. “Brother Bear let me take a bubble bath all by myself. And he made the best peanut butter and jelly sandwich in the world. I love Brother Bear!”
Mama Bear looked happy. “You did a good job, Brother Bear. Let’s go make chocolate chip cookies.”
Dawn Pisturino
May 2008; March 31, 2022
Copyright 2008-2022 Dawn Pisturino. All Rights Reserved.
Caitlin finished hosing down the empty dog kennel before turning off the water and removing her grimy work gloves. Her black sneakers felt damp, mud streaked her brand-new jeans, and long strands of corn silk hair had come loose from her ponytail. She was tired and hungry and ready to go home. “I’m finished, Grandma,” she called.
Dr. Rosemary Grant poked her curly gray head out the back door of the animal hospital and smiled. “You’re a good helper, Caitlin. I’ll take you home now.”
As they approached Caitlin’s house, a streak of yellow raced into the street. Her grandma slammed on the brakes, but they both felt the sickening thud.
“Mr. Tibbs!” Caitlin cried, jumping out of the car. She knelt on the asphalt where a yellow mass of fur smeared with blood lay sprawled. The eyes were closed. The chest barely moved.
Caitlin’s grandma knelt to examine the still form. “Get that old blanket from the back of the car,” she instructed without looking up.
Caitlin grabbed the blanket and handed it to her grandmother. “Will he be okay?”
“I don’t know,” she said gravely. “He’s seriously injured. We might have to put him down.”
“No!”
“He’s suffering, Caitlin. Do you want him to suffer?”
“No,” Caitlin sobbed, “but you’re a doctor. You’re supposed to try and save him!”
Very gently, as if wrapping a delicate Christmas ornament in tissue paper, Dr. Grant wrapped the injured cat in the woolen blanket and laid him in Caitlin’s arms. “We’ll take him to the clinic, and I’ll see what I can do. But don’t get your hopes up.”
* * *
Mr. Tibbs lay listlessly in a padded basket, his green eyes glazed over. “Grandma gave him some pain medicine,” Caitlin explained to her parents. She gingerly lifted the wounded yellow cat out of the basket and cradled him in her arms. His left front leg was missing. In its place was a small stump with tiny black stitches. His right front leg was limp, twisted, and useless.
“He’s crippled,” her mother said, wringing her hands. “What are we going to do with him?”
“He’ll never live a normal life again,” her father said. His steel gray eyes appeared grim. “Maybe this wasn’t a good idea. If he can’t adjust to his disabilities, we’ll have to put him down.”
* * *
Mr. Tibbs sniffed eagerly at the catnip toy in Caitlin’s hand, his green eyes glowing with expectation when she tossed it several inches in front of him on the tile floor. He eyed the toy warily, his tail flicking back and forth. Then, with one big push of his hind legs, he thrust himself forward onto his chin and chest, knocking into the toy and pushing it away. He rested a moment, breathing heavily, and tried again. Now the toy was encircled by his limp front leg. He opened his jaws and picked it up.
Caitlin scratched his furry yellow head. “Good boy, Mr. Tibbs. You did it.” She took the catnip toy from his mouth and offered him a treat, but he turned his head away and closed his eyes.
* * *
“He’s not improving,” Caitlin complained to her grandmother on the phone. “He just lays there. He won’t even try to get up unless I coax him.”
“Give him time, honey. He’s been through a terrible experience, and now his independence is gone. He has to learn how to survive all over again.”
“But if he doesn’t get better soon, Dad will have him put down.”
“It might be better in the long run,” her grandmother said.
Discouraged, Caitlin hung up the phone. Despite all of her best efforts, Mr. Tibbs was barely able to scoot a few feet across the floor. He refused to eat, and he was still unable to use the litter box. “Thank goodness we have tile floors,” her mother kept harping. “I don’t know what we would do if we had carpeting.”
Maybe Dad is right. Maybe it’s better to put him down.
She searched for him in the kitchen and laundry room. Where is he, she thought. But as she walked through the living-room door, she witnessed a remarkable sight: Mr. Tibbs was sitting up on his back haunches like a dog, his useless foreleg hanging limp and twisted in front of him, biting at the air with his powerful jaws and trying to catch a pesky fly that buzzed around his head. The fly flew away, but Mr. Tibbs remained sitting upright on his haunches. Then, with one great effort, he propelled himself onto the sofa with his strong back legs.
Caitlin flew across the room, scooped up the startled cat, and covered his furry head with kisses. “You are the most remarkable cat in the world!”
Later, when Caitlin climbed the stairs to bed, she was surprised to hear a thumping sound behind her on the stairs. She stopped and turned around. Mr. Tibbs was using his muscular back legs to clumsily propel himself up the stairs. “Come on, boy, you can do it,” she said. Slowly, he pushed himself step-by-step up the stairs until he lay exhausted at her feet.
“Dad, come here,” she called excitedly.
The first time he used the litter box, Caitlin beamed with pride. She offered him some bits of tuna fish which he eagerly ate from her hand.
One Saturday afternoon, Caitlin’s father answered the front door. A young man with sandy hair and freckles stood on the front porch with a small notebook in his hand and a camera slung over his shoulder. “Does Mr. Tibbs live here?” he said. “My name is Josh White, reporter with The Somerville Daily Bugle.”
Caitlin’s father chuckled. “Come in, Mr. White.”
Mr. Tibbs sat on his haunches in the middle of the living-room snapping his jaws at a piece of green yarn that Caitlin was dangling over his head.
“Hold that pose,” Mr. White said, flashing his camera.
The photo appeared the next day on the front page of The Somerville Daily Bugle above the story about a remarkable cat that was rescued from a terrible accident by a skilled veterinarian and saved from a life of helplessness by a dedicated twelve-year-old girl. Caitlin kept the newspaper clipping in her special drawer and read it every night before going to sleep.
Purring loudly, Mr. Tibbs stretched out his long body on the bed and yawned, one tired and contented cat.
* * *
Incredibly, Remarkable Mr. Tibbs is based on a true story. British naturalist Philip Brown owned a cat named Uncle Whiskers that survived a terrible car accident. Just like Mr. Tibbs, his left front leg was amputated and his right front leg was paralyzed. This amazing cat adapted so well to his disabilities, he was able to catch moths, rats, and even rabbits. Mr. Brown was so astounded, he wrote a book entitled Uncle Whiskers which is still avidly read by cat lovers today.
I wrote this for the Binnacle 2008 Ultra-Short Writing Challenge, which asked for a 150-word story:
As the train pulled away from the station, Carrie looked through the window at her father standing lost and forlorn on the wooden platform. “I’ll be back,” she had said, hugging him tightly and kissing him warmly on the cheek. But as the train chugged slowly down the track, she knew in her heart that she would never come back. With tears in her eyes, she waved at him one last time, painfully aware of the worried expression in his tired blue eyes, the stooped shoulders, the crumpled old sweater. Who will take care of him now, she wondered. But as the train moved faster down the track, so did her thoughts, leaping ahead to the eager young man waiting anxiously for her at the end of the line and the new life they would begin together. She closed her eyes, remembering his gentle words of love, and cried. (149 words)
Dawn Pisturino
January 2008; March 29, 2022
Copyright 2008-2022 Dawn Pisturino. All Rights Reserved.
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