I reread the whole crucifixion and resurrection story to the fam last night, and then we watched The Miracle Maker, perhaps the very best movie about the life of Christ ever. Then we sent them to bed, and this morning they woke to the Easter baskets my spouse put together after they fell asleep. Later we'll have ham and in-laws for dinner, though we'll only be eating one of those things. The other would likely give us indigestion, and if you are what you eat... pleah.
After the resurrection, Jesus hung out on Earth for 40 days and nights before ascending to heaven. In that time hundreds of people saw him. I was thinking about how he just appeared and disappeared after the resurrection, and how cool that initiation was the other day, but really, the shit he did beforehand was pretty cool too. Time and space never had any claim on him.
Anyway, one of the things that popped out of the re-reading was that Angels were all over the place at this time of year in that little dusty town of Jerusalem. While Mary watched, a being who looked like lightning rolled away the tomb to reveal Jesus was already gone. Jesus didn't need to be freed from the tomb by the angel, but Mary did. She was stuck in her head on the tomb and who was inside it, and what that meant for her in her life, her grief, her hope, her pain. The tomb was where she went in her agony, and that symbol of all her pain had to have its power over her broken. The Angel rolls away the stone and shows her he's not there, tells her he's alive. The angel breaks the power of the grave over the living.
You get the idea, right? We conjure angels all the time.
Easter's about rebirth, having the power of death broken, but there's more. One of the things that is really easy to forget is that it's also about Fuckin'. Sex. Gettin' laid. Procreation. Celebration of the return of John Corn with thrust and parry, the old in-out-in-out, penetration and blissful orgasmatronic union with God, or even just plain old cummin'.
So fuck for Christ's sake. Or for your own. Whatever.