Happy Easter! Happy what?

What is Easter? What is its history? I suspect most people in our society would think they know the answers to those questions (I thought I did). The "obvious" answer to the first question, the one the dictionary gives and the one most people would give something like, is:

Easter, a pagan festival, has become synonymous with the Christian celebration of Christ's resurrection. A final note along this line, widespread observance of Easter did not occur in this country until after the Civil War; a little over one hundred years ago.

As the history of the Easter celebration shows us, things aren't always what we think they are. If we more fully explore what it is that Christians celebrate on Easter, that is, the events or records of events upon which the Christian celebration is based, we will likely be shocked. Contrary to popular belief there is no authoritative version of the resurrection story of Jesus (that is, no version that is widely accepted by theologians and biblical scholars). The resurrection stories in the Gospels diverge in non-trivial ways and there are many theories as to what underlying reality could exist beneath these differing accounts. The questions these theories raise and attempt to answer include: Was Jesus' body removed from its borrowed tomb? Did his followers, distraught over the apparent failure of Jesus' ministry and their failure to prevent his death, hallucinate his appearances? Why do the gospels all differ dramatically in retelling something as important as Jesus' appearances and actions after his death? Why did the first gospel, Mark, originally end with no mention of a resurrection?

One might ask, "Is 'Easter' something we want to investigate more fully?" I think so, since it is associated with the fundamental tenet of the primary religion in our society. ("Primary" meaning professed to be the religion of choice by more people than any other in our country). If the religion is important to us, its fundamental tenet must be important to us. But isn't this just a matter of faith, a matter beyond the application of reason? I think not. If a person or institution makes claims about historical facts (people, acts, places, things), those claims are subject to scholarly scrutiny--for they are claims about "facts" not "faiths". For the vast majority of Christians who believe (have faith) in Jesus' having risen from the dead, their belief is ultimately based on the Bible, a purported record of historical facts. This record can and should (because of its importance) be investigated.

This points up an interesting phenomena. The Bible is continually being investigated by experts (and non-experts) from many fields; results of those investigations, unless they match popular conceptions, are not widely dispersed. It seems, for the general public, supporting evidences are hailed as proofs for and justification of faith while contradictory evidences are dismissed as erroneous or irrelevant. (How may times a year do you hear accounts of "visions of Mary", or some religious relic bleeding, or "miraculous" healing, or some other miracle attributed to the Judeo-Christian God? These are accounts which get serious treatment from the press. Contrast that with the number of times you hear about conferences of scholars that critically examine biblical or supernatural claims.)

Should we risk undermining faiths, proclaimed to be important and comforting by their believers, that are built on "facts" which may be demonstrated to be untrue? That seems a critically important question, but one I will not attempt to answer here. If, for a fun exercise, you want to wrestle with this question, let me put it another way. If you had incontrovertible evidence that the prophet Mohammed never talked with God or angels but made up all those conversations to gain a following (say you had his personal diary), would you make this evidence known to the world? [If you'd feel safer, you may substitute "Joseph Smith", the founder of Mormonism, for "Mohammed".]

In what ways are Christians different from and in what ways are they similar to the Moslems who condemn and ban "The Satanic Verses"? (Exclude the ones who want to murder Salman Rushdie). Those Moslems are offended by a fictional work that questions fundamental tenets of their religion. (That was a deeper blaspheme then the name-calling the book also included). As a society, we effectively relegate to obscurity readable, scholarly works that question ("threaten") some of our more basic faiths. (Note that "relegation to obscurity" is not as extreme as banishment; that's one difference between us and the Moslems above. But note that that difference is due to our secular laws and our faith in them; on the pious side, the Catholic Church has maintained and updated a list of banned books for centuries.)

Often what we perceive as our threatened faiths are faiths we did little work to gain and faiths many of us profess to having but which we don't live by. What some might take as an uncomplimentary, but I think accurate, way to describe these faiths is as "faiths of ignorance". By "faiths" here I mean much more than religion--I mean to include our belief systems regarding our ethics, our lifestyles, our world-view, and ourselves. To see that the term "faiths of ignorance" applies, reflect on how often or how much people think about "what" exactly is the faith they have, "why" they have it, "how" it affects their lives, "what" are alternatives to their faith and so on.

I have been struggling with trying to understand why we are so protective of our ignorance in these most important matters. The simple answer, which I think is partly correct, is that we are ignorant of our ignorance. The more complete answer remains to be found (at least by me), and after finding that, one can think about what one wants to, or can, do about it. (I think part of the more complete answer lies in the amount of work serious questioning involves, the low amount of support and guidance available in our culture for that work, and the high level of self-confidence and self-esteem that is a pre-requisite for this basic self-questioning.)

I close this essay with some questions that might stir wonder if not serious thought. If you are a Christian consider the following questions:

If you could go back in time and save Jesus from being crucified, would you do it?

If you would save Jesus’ life, you would be defying God’s will and potentially preventing billions from being saved.

If you would not save Jesus, you would be letting an innocent man, your God, be executed. Allowing a crime to happen when you could have stopped it is being a party to that crime. You would be an accessory to killing Jesus.

The question can be put another way in which time travel is not necessary. Did Judas and the Pharisees do the right thing in betraying and killing Jesus? Are they to be lauded rather than condemned?

If your execution by crucifixion or some other gruesome means, would result in an everlasting paradise for billions of others (including all your family and friends), would you sacrifice yourself for them?

If you answer 'yes' (as I believe most people would) why is Jesus—who made an easier choice because an even greater paradise would be his, the throne in paradise—to be especially admired for his sacrifice?

© 2000 frantzml@juno.com