I hate Easter, with a passion.
Renée Altson April 25th, 2011
I hate Easter, with a passion.
It could be rightly assumed that I hate all the trappings of Easter, which I do. I certainly recognize the joy that children get from their plastic eggs, the great hunt, and gobs of trinkets and candy. Then there is the fun of shopping for new clothes–particularly those lovely dresses for little girls, frequently strung with barbaric beads, cheap lace, and crafted out of polyester, the ultimate in uncomfortable, itchy, and ugly material.
I apologize for my bitterness. I didn't experience the idealistic Easter fantasy (and I don't think anyone really does). To be honest, I had a rather difficult time during this week every year due to my abusive father's obsession with Jesus and religion. It is easier for me to harass the typical trappings of Easter than to befriend my own heart.
I have struggled with what was done to me and why God has allowed it for many years. I've lived and attempted every pat answer, every type of therapy, every word of encouragement and advice, and every offer for decades. Even now, I flow back and forth between response and feeling, and some times are far more difficult than others.
The idea of resurrection and rebirth both appeals to me and terrifies me. The appeal, of course, is fresh chances, new beginnings, an opportunity to find life after the dark hopelessness of death. The beauty of redemption, renewal, and hope call loudly to my aching heart.
At the same time, there is a fear of change. What if I am given that second chance and I screw it up too? What does rebirth and resurrection require of me? How can I live with the awareness and light of being reborn? What happens if I die again?
For me, these are not theological questions, but rather questions of my self – of the way I live and choose to live, the places I dwell in within the depths of my spirit. They are at the core of how I have chosen to exist in this world, how open to change I really am, how much of a difference I am determined to make.
… how then, shall I live?
I wonder how your world is this morning. Now that Easter is over, are you relieved? Do you dread cleaning up the mess left over from yesterday's celebration? Are you thankful that your house is all yours again and your relatives have left? Do you feel the life and joy that you felt yesterday? Did you think of the resurrection when you first awakened?
The problem with Easter is that it is a day dedicated to something that should be recognized as part of our lives naturally. Even the organic ebb and flow of nature's cycles reflect death and rebirth; we are surrounded by resurrection in numerous ways all the time, and yet we miss it!
Think of the homeless man who is able to secure some sort of stable housing, the girl trafficked for sex being rescued and freed, the liberation of the oppressed, the waking up from a coma, the emergence of a butterfly … life is bursting with life, and yet all too often we ignore it and take it for granted. Resurrection becomes stale, a one-day yearly celebration filled with baskets and eggs and images of the stone rolled from the tomb.
The stone is always rolling from the tomb.
We are called to be stone-rollers. We are called help the poor and the broken, the lepers and prostitutes. We are called to venture deep into the passion, to care and heal and bring resurrection to those whom the rest of the world has forgotten. We are called to notice the changes and miracles around us, and to acknowledge their existence. We are witnesses to rebirth and renewal.
I believe in resurrection. I believe in the original story, and I accept the magnificence of that event. At the same time, I believe that it is not simply a singular event. I believe that Christ followers we are called to connect with others and with the story of life; to learn to love and assist even the people we can't stand, and choose to walk with as many others as possible through their own "Good Friday"s; their own days in hell, their own rolled stones.
We follow a resurrected Christ. We, too, are called to resurrection.
I hope you had a lovely reminder of that resurrection yesterday, that you see the possibilities and potential for hope in every one you meet, and that you discover the awareness of that precious gift in every rebirth, in every blooming flower, in every single moment in the days to come.
he is risen, indeed.
Renée Altson is the author of Stumbling Toward Faith (Zondervan, 2004/2008), a freelance Web developer, and a survivor of severe religious and sexual abuse. She has a unique and compassionate message for all people struggling with disabilities, pain, grief, and betrayal. Renee lives in Southern California with her husband, teenage daughter, and two beloved cats.
This entry was posted on Monday, April 25th, 2011 at 6:32 am and is filed under Abuse, Brokenness, Christianity, Easter, God, Jesus, Religion and Spirituality, Renee Altson, Resurrection, Stumbling Toward Faith. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can leave a response, or trackback from your own site.










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