f you grew up going to church, no doubt there’s at least one photograph of you as a child on Easter morning. In that picture, chances are you’re dressed to the nines in something uncomfortable and/or gaudy—a polyester suit, perhaps, or something pink or yellow with more ruffles than a high school prom in the ’70s. Your parents probably put a good amount of thought into that outfit—from the paisley tie to the cutest little pair of white sandals—every detail thought and rethought in hopes that members of your church would ooh and ahh over how adorable you appeared. As odd as that might seem, for many of us, that was what Easter was all about—a Sunday that required a special shopping trip, a lecture from our parents about behaving during the church’s Easter cantata, and then a big choice between whether to eat ham or lamb at lunch. Sure, Easter was about Jesus, but it was also about looking as cute as button, a day that required us to pay attention to the holy as well as the fashionably correct. And even if you grew out of those traditions, you likely aren’t quite sure what you’re supposed to do anymore to observe this sacred day. We love Easter and at the same time are uncomfortable with it. We know it’s a very important day, yet we have trouble figuring out how to celebrate it. What is it about Easter that brings out our “Christian crazy”?
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PERHAPS THE BIGGER TRAVESTY TO THE EASTER STORY HAPPENS WHEN WE TRY TO REDUCE THE UNBELIEVABLE PARTS OF THE STORY INTO SHORT, CATCHY, SIMPLE LIFE APPLICATIONS. A Sacred Circus Michelle Vincent remembers well the moment she almost fell in love with Jesus. It happened three years ago, when a large Charismatic church hired her to perform an interpretive dance for their Easter Sunday service. Though the 32-year-old professional dancer thought it was strange that a church wanted her to prance up and down their aisles wearing little more than a tutu—to celebrate the resurrection of Christ, no less—the gig paid good money, so she swallowed her pride, not to mention her agnosticism, and agreed to perform. Toward the middle of her four-and-ahalf minute routine—a dramatic spectacle that Vincent says included elements of ballet, rhythmic gymnastics and a couple of hula hoop tosses—the audience rose to their
feet in excitement. Right after she tossed and caught the hula hoop a second time, a move she’d perfectly choreographed to coincide with the soloist’s high note, the 2,000-member congregation erupted into glorious applause. Vincent says she was thoroughly enjoying the attention, especially when she began hearing people from all over the auditorium shouting proclamations like, “Hallelujah” and, “We love you, Jesus!” Vincent says that’s when she thought, “I think I almost love Jesus, too.” Though she admits her first Easter experience wasn’t exactly a conversion, she says, “it definitely felt spiritual. Plus, they paid me $900 and they bring me back every year.” Vincent’s grateful for what she calls her “annual Easter bonus” but also confesses: “I do feel sort of like I’m participating in a circus rather than a worship service. There’s a
fake Jesus hanging on a cross. Flag wavers. Some people even blow horns at random moments. It’s like Passion of the Christ meets a Japanese game show.” She laughs before adding, “But maybe it’s weird to me because I’m not Christian.” Easter Sundries Vincent has a point: believing is probably a requirement for fully grasping any church’s celebration of Jesus’ resurrection. However, it’s also true that Easter—perhaps more than other Christian holidays like Advent or Fourth of July (wait, what?)—does have the tendency to bring out a Christian’s spiritual gift of odd. Now, maybe that’s not entirely our fault. Maybe our affection for creating church pageantry—filling vases with stargazer lilies, wearing robin’s egg blue and donning a man dressed up like “Jesus” with enough fake blood to supply a second Scream trilogy—is just something that happens to us when we become Christian. You know, like sanctification or believing the band Skillet totally rocks. Or maybe our “Christian crazy” shines more brightly at Easter because it’s the Super Bowl of Christian holidays. And also because Christianity really needs Easter. Think about it: Without Jesus’ resurrection, Christianity would still be Judaism or, at some churches, a Tony Robbins seminar. The belief that Jesus is alive and well and sitting in Heaven at God’s right side is what separates our good deeds from the good deeds of Buddhists and distinguishes our Easter from the “Easter” Martha Stewart celebrates. So perhaps becoming overly excited and fully capable of going a little overboard in our attempt to bring to life the death, burial and resurrection of Jesus is just something we can’t help. That might explain Resurrection Eggs— you know, the holy dozen of yolkless plastic eggs you can only buy in the springtime at Christian bookstores. Unlike the godless sugary contents of the eggs the Easter bunny lays, each one of God’s pastel eggs contains a small religious item like a purple cloth, a tiny thorn, a sponge and a small rock that, if you’re so inclined, you can roll away. Many Sunday school teachers use Resurrection Eggs because their contents help to remind little ones of the true reason for the resurrection season. And some use the holy eggs to warn their young, impressionable flocks that the Easter bunny is little more than Satan’s plush toy. Either way, RELEVANTMAGAZINE.COM / 61