Choice ends up being rushed with the despair that knows the kids need picking up and the queue has suddenly grown. We have time neither to evaluate, nor postpone; we choose on the basis of instinct or impulse; neither are informed.

The sadness of the panacea of plenty is that it makes us less fulfilled. Worse still, living in a bubble of plenty, how can we begin to relate to others: these who appear as a blur on the film of excess?

Christians are currently reflecting upon a choice made long ago. This week the choice was to make Jesus king; next week it was to kill him. Fickle humanity.

Choosing a king was a great idea so long as it promised the fulfilment of a latent desire, and maybe it also came with free deliverance. It turned out freedom always comes at a price: too difficult a choice.

So they sent the king back to where he claimed to come from. Jesus, they thought, was going to give them what they wanted — he insisted on giving them what they needed.

So the Easter season demands one more choice of us: not one to be made lightly. Real freedom is on offer, but at a price.