Monday, April 05, 2010

Mel Gibson Would Not Approve

For most of America yesterday was a very important day, Easter. To little kids it's the day that you get to run around and find hidden eggs made of chocolate or filled with prizes. To adults it could mean a couple things from the day you hide those eggs, one of the two days a year you bother to go to church and convince yourself you'll be better in the future, or, it's a day that really means nothing and you carry on as usual. Generally for me it's the later, but yesterday Jill and I made a great trip down to Richmond to hang out with my brother. It was certainly a great time and no pastels were worn for the occasion.

It seems to me, as an admitted outsider, that churches (especially protestant ones) are going more and more extreme in their special holiday services. I understand that attendance will jump by like 200% on both Christmas and Easter and that each is a special occasion, according to your doctrine. I guess it's only appropriate to do something a little extra to try and encourage those C&Es to come back the following the week, which, inevitably they won't.

There's that crazy church down in Dallas that does the weird haunted house where they depict abortions and drug over doses and selling your soul to the devil to scare kids into believing. Obviously this is a terrible way to go about completing your mission, but they keep at it, and lots of souls are temporarily saved. I've gone to a living nativity scene at Christmas where you drive your car through a giant church parking lot that has been converted to some sort of down town Jerusalem complete with farm animals, people playing parts of beggars, roman soldiers and other stuff. I'm not sure what I was supposed to take away from that other than it was sort of creepy and when I offered to actually buy the bread one lady was holding because I was hungry, she wouldn't sell it to me. This was confusing because she was playing the part of a baker. What else were they going to do with all that fresh baked bread?

This morning, I was clicking through some pictures on facebook and came across one that literally made my jaw drop. I don't know what church this is, but they have decided the best way to observe their Easter holiday was to have a fake crucifixion right there on church property. Again, I'm not totally sure what you're supposed to take away from this. It's sort of like that scene in Religious in the crazy amusement park where fake Jesus carries the cross through the tourist and people start crying. Maybe that's what this church is trying to accomplish, to conjure up some sort of emotional connection to the story by having some dudes they actually know on fake crosses being fake killed? I do know that one of the comments on this photo was something along the lines of, "Thanks for capturing this. What a powerful service!" Apparently, to at least that person, it had some sort of impact.

But, for me, it would have to go further. I'd need the guy playing Jesus to sleep in a cave for 3 days and then magically escape, round up his followers, give them some sort of crazy inspiring motivational speech and then ascend to heaven in a bright light while still living never to be seen again. I mean, that's the rest of the story right? It doesn't just end with a miraculous coming back to life, it ends with a magic ascent to a magical kingdom in the sky. Why aren't they trying to recreate that piece? Oh, that's right, it's so obvious... I also kind of wonder if they made the guy drink vinegar out of a sponge. I always thought that was the worst part when I was a kid.

Speaking of magically coming back to life, has anybody ever really considered the aspect of the story where Mary discovers the empty tomb and freaks out? It just seems to me that instead of freaking out she'd just assume the body was moved and confer with the cemetery management. Put the story in modern context, let's say you go visit someone at the hospital and when you show up to the room you were told they were in and they're not there, is your first instinct to sprint out of the hospital in some sort of panic, or would you go to the nurses desk and ask for some clarification?

And, as Jon Stewart would say, you're moment of zen:

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