After Easter / When the symbolism fails you

Easter Table - Nikolay Bogdanov-Belsky

 

Easter and Thanksgiving are the times we’ve visited my side of the family. For as much as I hope these times will be worthwhile and joyous…more often they prove to be interactions marred by family of origin baggage and tensions forged in the kiln of pain and chaos.

I yearn to create new traditions in my nuclear family, but obligations and traditions with extended family crowd out those preferences.

I wonder now, as I recover from too much driving, what do we do when all the well-suited symbolism of new life and rebirth fail. When they don’t pan out in real life. When what you wish for, like a clean start, or even some version of new found tranquility proves unavailable.

The joy of Easter is there in the background, in a larger –what-God-is-up-to–sense, but interpersonally you just wish you could be somewhere else. That has to be more common than the Easter greeting cards let on.

My husband and I watched The Passion of the Christ on Good Friday, a day before we left on our Eater trip, and I was struck by something. The pain. So. much. pain.

This holiday is marked with the pain of God coming into our experience and absorbing all the agony. We tend to jump to the end. The happy ending of the joy of his resurrection. That’s the spot we focus on. O’ the joy!

For Christ’s followers it was actually more of a chaotic time rife with sorrow, dashed hopes, bewilderment, unbelief, and then surprise, okay, shock. Joy? Yes that too. But many other things.

First, he kept popping up in locked rooms, probably necessitating the “Peace to you” language, because he was freaking them out so much. He gave them hope enough to spread the Good News, but much was left undone. In fact, the hardest times were ahead. And, Jesus didn’t stay long.

Real life is complicated.

There was infighting, arrests, beatings, Steven is the first martyr, wild Saul starts imprisoning and killing Jesus’ friends–then he reverses course. Death where is your sting, says St. Paul? Well, guess what? The pain still smarts like the dickens.

* * *

I must say I have some envy for those who experience serenity and all the related majesty and renewal of Eastertide. Sometimes those symbols fail me. This was one of those times. Perhaps they do not in any long term or big picture way, but in the nitty gritty ways and means that life plays out…yes. And that makes it difficult. So much of life just doesn’t work right. So much is still broken, empty tomb or not.

You probably thought you were going to read a happy ending. Maybe I would turn my frown upside down. But, right now, I can’t find the right ending to write about. Maybe the symbolism hasn’t failed me, maybe I have failed it. I suppose like many stories, this one isn’t over yet either. But, the dot-dot-dots (…) are each so weighty and confounding.

Interviewing my favorite undertaker: Caleb Wilde

I’ve appreciated Caleb Wilde’s blog for quite a while now. It could be my own experience with grief, suffering, and the dying process that makes Caleb’s sentiments on death and unique perspective a kind of solace to me.

If death and dying has touched your world, I think you’ll feel the same way about his blog. If it hasn’t, at some point it will. That’s just the facts.

Speaking from experience, I suggest purposefully familiarizing yourself with the inevitable issues of mortality (your own and your loved ones’) before they arrive without warning and manage to capsize your world, crush your faith, or in some other way batter you. And for purposes of minister and soul care it’s quite helpful too.

This is part one of our chat. Check back this week for part 2.

(click for video)

Read my Guest Post on “Confessions of a Funeral Director” blog (Caleb Wilde)

Thank you so much for stopping by today.

It’s a really big day for me, for at least 3 reasons…hold up! 5 Reasons. (I just found out it’s The Year of the Dragon starting today AND National Pie day. Eating pie like a dragon seems like the proper thing to do and Very exciting!)

Here’s 3 more reasons.

1. Author Shawn Smucker’s interview is now live, it’s awesome, and it’s the first of two parts (see the previous post).

2. Doomsday debunker and writer of a bunch of books, Jason Boyett, posted the pre-lease of his interview with me about his fun (yes I said fun) Doomsday book. For now, it’s only available at his site, here, (and it’s unlisted on youtube until that goes live, on January 30th to the general public).

Since it’s time-sensitive info…go ahead and get the word out! (We might only have 11 more months before ultimate doom and annilation, so be a darling and help some people not freak out, k?)

3. I have a guest post at Confessions of a Funeral Director. No, I’m not a funeral director, but it is a kind of confession.

Please stop by and read my deathly guest post at Caleb’s poignant site. He’s, by far, my favorite undertaker. And I mean that!

And check back for a fascinating Ninja Interview with Caleb which will be up soon.

It’s not a broken heart that kills you…

(by Chris O Brien click for CC source)

You can’t die of a broken heart. It’s despair that kills you.

Having a broken heart, means you are alive. It means that something matters, and you haven’t gone numb (which is what usually happens to people after a while…or escapism, which is sort of the same).

Having a broken heart means that risk was rewarded with pain. But not pain unto death. Pain that gives way to experience you can’t find another way.

I used to think God was trying to kill me of a broken heart. Dashing my hopes and dreams. Allowing my son, or my father, or me to suffer until I couldn’t take it anymore. It felt like the beatings wouldn’t end.

At the end of that bit of brutality (as I perceived it) I realized I could be borne out of it, like a phoenix. And that was the point. To come to a resurrection. On the other side was life, not death. All the scars would be a kind of beauty, not a pitiable shame.

Don’t worry about your broken heart. It has to break apart to get to the fleshy part. The part so tender that only God can hold it…and be the only one who can and will protect it in a way you never could understand before. In a way that you can never do alone. You are brave enough for that. You. are.

Do. not. despair.

Heaven is For Real, but is it as silly as they say?

On the recent topic of Heaven (and soon, Hell) here at the old blog, I must bring up the baffling and sappy rendering of the heaven that we hear about quite a bit in conservative North American Protestantism.

If a boy nearly dies, and then tells you details about heaven exactly as you have taught him, what’s next? I’ll tell you what, a best seller (for people who need a spiritual vitamin B12 shot for their excruciatingly literal translations of biblical passages, and who pay no mind to historical context, linguistic idioms, let alone Hebrew and Greek).

Now, I realize young children tell silly stories. That’s part of their job. The trouble comes when the stories get massaged and coupled with a near-death tragedy to elicit a faith response from the more gullible among us. I do want to think the Burpos are on the up-and-up, but something stinks.

I heard Pastor Burpo and his little boy on a television program. What a cute kid. Some of the story seemed amazing, if not miraculous, but I got a bad whiff of something when Colton (really his dad) detailed heaven as, well, super lame.

People get around on their huge wings. Okay, I hope that’s not how it works. Boobs have been bad enough. The proverbial pearly gates make an appearance. The word “wicked trite” comes to mind, but maybe I’m just too cynical. A blue-eyed Jesus wears a purple sash over his white robe, and rides a giantic rainbow colored horse. Okay, bad wardrobe, and how could the genuine biblical Jesus from the ancient Semitic region possibly possess a double recessive gene for blue eyes? (And don’t say, because both Mary and the Holy Spirit had blue eyes, ’cause I’m not buying it.)

I don’t think Jesus rolls like that. But, I give the kid credit: An elephantine rainbow horse is pretty cool. Of course, I would have to know if it pooped rainbow too. That’s awfully critical info. God (the Father) has a body and sits on the throne, with Gabriel serving as a kind of right hand angel man on his left side, in a smaller throne…as we might expect, right? It all sounds like a bad Star Trek episode. Well, sort of.

Reader reviews often complain that only 3 pages of the book speaks of heaven in any details. But the book has done well. Very well. It spent 52 weeks on the bestseller list, and the family has since produced a children’s picture book, and you guessed it, and movie rights have been purchased by Sony. Pretty sweet deal!

Possible movie title: “Heaven is for Reel: One Boy’s Near-death experience as re-told by his literalistic dad”

When the parents are asked about authenticity, their answers center on referring to the hope the story brings. This begs the question, is the point of the book to create hope in a plenty of people already know what they want heaven to be, instead of a faithful depiction of God (who, by the way, is non corporeal) and the Bible? (Which would be far more confusing.) Both can’t be true.

If you want to read a copy for yourself, and decide, here it is.

But, I offer you some thoughtful reflection on the the topic from arguably the foremost New Testament scholar alive today.