I see Robert Powell
Wednesday, July 09, 2008 (14:09:12)

Posted by Conx

I’ve always had a problem with Easter. Not as a festival and not because of what it represents – quite the reverse. I see the nails, the stripped flesh, the pain, the tears. I see Holy Week as a physical thing – primarily, the total destruction of the body of Jesus Christ. I wish I could see it symbolically. It would be so much easier to bear.

I don’t understand the people who flocked to the Passion of the Christ at cinemas. Christians already know what happens and shouldn’t need the reminder; non-Christians – well the only reason they would be going is for entertainment, like Roman’s watching Christians being thrown to the lions. And I’d be even more dubious about Christians who watched it for entertainment. For me, there is nothing entertaining in the death of my Master. It is shameful enough to know that He went through it for me. I see Christians around me who either trivialise Easter or seem to wallow in grief and self-pity, beating their breasts in public like widows around a funeral pyre. It seems to be attractive to people who “enjoy a bit of misery” – probably the same people who had hysterics at the side of the road as Princess Di’s hearse drove past. And that’s the problem.

The death of Jesus Christ and the death of the Princess of Wales are two completely separate events. At the time, the death of Christ seemed to be followed by a massive anti-climax, hardly befitting the Son of Man. Princess Di’s death, however tragic, seemed to provoke the opposite reaction, mass hysteria from people whose lives were touched by her only briefly, through the newspapers. People who watched her life as if it was a soap opera. I don’t want to be a Christmas Christian, but nor do I want to be an Easter soap-opera Christian either. The message of Easter is life, not death. Funny how we seem reticent to become hysterical about preaching the Resurrection but are quite happy to wave the Cross in public. To the onlooker, we are celebrating the death of our Master.

How strange we must seem. When we do celebrate His Resurrection, we do it in private. Let’s take to the streets on Easter Sunday instead of Good Friday.

Conx
Copyright (c) Conway Billington