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He is risen! (He is risen, indeed!)
We heard that refrain many times today at our church, and it makes me think. I mean, I'm a believer. So what does Easter mean to me?
It really kinda makes me crazy, this Easter thing. First, the name itself. What's a pagan fertility goddess, Eastre, got to do with our risen Lord? The bunnies? The eggs? Hers. And I know how Christians have turned them into "resurrection eggs", but to me that just feels like putting lipstick on a pig.
At the end of the day though, I don't know WHAT Easter means to me. My believing friends, they get all weepy about Easter. And I think I should, don't get me wrong. But I'm not really sure what the dramas we see and the pretty dresses have to do with the grit I imagine Christ endured. If we want to identify with Jesus, shouldn't we be wearing grave clothes, then casting them off? Shouldn't we be filthy and stinky from days in a tomb, shielding our eyes from the brightness of the sun? Shouldn't we cough rock dust and musty air from our aching lungs, nearly choking in the freshness outside the tomb?
There's got to be something I'm missing. I can't quite grasp it, I'm sure that it's there, but so elusive to me. Maybe someday...
1 comment:
Interesting you should point this out. I often struggle with these "religious" holidays. The New Testament actually warns against celebrating special days. I go with the flow, b/c it's so prevalent in our modern churches, but I think you are on the right track.
I have no problem celebrating the holidays as a fun, cultural experience, but I don't really get into the religious aspect so much. After all, EVERY Sunday is about worshiping our risen Lord, right??
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