Fates Fickle Fortune

Everybody loves a parade. Something to celebrate; something to shout about. Whether it is in Notting Hill or on Copa Cobana’s famous beach, a parade or carnival brings the crowds out to dance and sing and strut their stuff. The one we’re remembering this Sunday was a little different.

 

For a start, it was in a place that hadn’t seen much in the way of carnivals in previous years. The people there hadn’t much to write home about, languishing as they were under the oppressor’s boot. Fair enough, there was an historic festival taking place that week and it did commemorate a famous release. And then there was the focal point of the carnival – just the one float and a strange one at that.

 

A young Jewish woodcutter, feet dangling down the back of a young ass, solemn and serious-faced, surrounded by a crowd of screaming revellers, waving tree branches and palm-fronds and throwing their clothes down in the roadway. “Save!” they’re shouting in Hebrew; “Save, we pray!” It could almost be a party from the local Prudential!

 

You’ve recognised the event by now, of course. Palm Sunday, the “Triumphal Entry” of Jesus into Jerusalem on the back of a donkey. The Messiah who brought peace and new life to his followers, not riding a conquering war-horse but a simple mule and so fulfilling the old prophecies from the scriptures. A red letter day for Jerusalem, to be sure.

But those same crowds who shouted “Hosanna!” on Sunday shouted “Crucify!” on Friday and the followers who welcomed the Son of David to save them were now a howling mob baying for his blood. Such is the fickleness of fortune and fate observe the commentators. Those who love you one moment hate you the next and people’s views and opinions shift like the blowing of the wind.

 

Politicians the world over have discovered there are none so fickle as the public and the loyalists who vote Republican one year vote Democrat the next whilst conservative hard-liners quickly change to socialist sympathisers depending on who offers the better deal. A cynical viewpoint you might think but one so often bourn out in reality. Who can you trust?

 

If it really was up to Fate and Fortune, I would say trust no one and don’t depend on anything because it will only let you down. However, the One who rode a donkey and broke a loaf and prayed a prayer and bore a lash and hung on a cross didn’t do any of that on a whim or at the mercy of chance. He knew where he was going and he knew what he was doing because it was written in the past and planned from the beginning. None of it happened by accident and none of it was dependent on the fickleness of human whim.

 

Next time you’re a victim of circumstance and the so-called vagaries of chance remember Someone Somewhere has a plan and, if you choose, you can be part of it. The following words hang on the wall of my house: I alone know the plans I have for you, plans to bring you prosperity and not disaster, plans to bring about the future you hope for.

PEELING BANANAS

My father in law Ken has always peeled his bananas upside down. At least, that’s what we thought until recently. We used to laugh at him because he insisted on holding the stalk in his hand and starting at the other end. You know, the end with the small black spot.

 

We all thought he was just being a typical stubborn Yorkshireman when he insisted, despite our jibes, that this was the correct way and, although it seemed rather unusual and unique, it was us that were wrong and not him. I must confess I was quite scathing about his unusual habit and made more fun of his practice than most members of the family.

 

Well now it’s me that has had to eat humble pie. Or perhaps I should say “banoffe pie”! According to the Internet it seems we were wrong and he was right. Peeling a banana from the “black spot end” rather than the “stalk end” is the way monkeys do it and, it turns out, this is the most efficient way. And I didn’t just take the word of the Web – I tried it! It was a remarkable experience.

 

First, you don’t need a sharp knife or even to attack the “stalk end” with your teeth (unpleasant taste!) but simply squeeze the “black spot end” and the banana pops open and peels neatly into four or five strips. Job done! One small word of warning that Ken didn’t mention … just under the “black spot end” is a little black “spike” that needs to be thrown out. Get rid of that and you can enjoy your banana with the minimum of fuss. Just like a monkey!

 

So here’s my public apology to Ken: SORRY DAD … YOU WERE RIGHT AND I WAS WRONG!

 

People who insist on doing something a certain way despite the critique of the crowd do need a certain amount of moral courage, I think you must agree. Forging ahead in a certain direction when everyone else is headed the other way: that takes determination and inner strength. It reminds me of a few bible heroes who stood up for what they believed in, despite the views of the majority, because they knew it was right. They may not have been peeling bananas but they knew the difference between right and wrong and were prepared to go God’s way rather than the way of the world.

 

By the way, did you hear about the guy in the jungle who met a monkey with a tin opener? He said, "You don't need a tin opener to peel a banana." The monkey said, "No, this is for the custard.”

 

Enjoy your banana, but do it right!