Staying Behind

The dawning of Easter marks the end of our self-imposed reflection on what is dark and painful in this world.

The believers say that Easter frees them.

The joy. The colors. The family.

I feel burdened - burdened by faith in something I don't understand.

Or maybe I do understand ...

Humans create God, humans kill man who says he's God, humans deify man they killed after they experience the depths to which his message can change their lives.

During Lent, when it comes time for that stark realism of starting as and returning to dust, I feel most close to Jesus, whatever that means. I thank Jesus for giving me the opportunity to feel like that's enough to know God - but I suspect it can't be that simple.

I can "give up" this or that ... but I really feel that a season I live in year-round is simply being recognized by everyone else.

Then ... the white robes and lilies and incense and beautiful children.

"CHRIST HAS DIED, CHRIST HAS RISEN, CHRIST WILL COME AGAIN."

Christ has died.

And with his death, I find hope.

The life of a perfect man. In fact, you could say I have faith in that life and its promises. Perhaps even that there is a "God" that loves me.

When it comes to Christ rising and, in particular, Christ coming again, I find myself a certain type of Christian here on the eve of Easter Sunday. If I even understand what a Christian is.

I've struggled with this each Easter.

The joy isn't there for me.

I am here in this life.

The genesis of my faith is in how to make that life meaningful. Some days, I'm simply trying to make it functional.

My priest once told me, "You have to believe Jesus was resurrected, or we both might as well be wearing a yamaka."

Fair enough.

CHRIST HAS RISEN. CHRIST WILL COME AGAIN.

I can believe that, but - living in a world where I see people getting the truth twisted until it isn't the truth any longer - not with malice or pursuit of power - just wanting to believe so much - I can't argue with those who tell me I'm suspending my reason.

Not that reason overrules faith absolutely.

But what exactly am I uncomfortably suspending reason to believe in?

For me, it is the life, here, a peculiar collection of interacting forms driven by an unseeable force to survive.

This is where I tread on the edge of hypocrisy - or, I hope, maybe I don't.

If you see me smile on Easter, know that I'm happy for you.

If you see me somehow left behind in a Lenten state, one that I embrace, know that I am still happy for you.