Feeling Pissy About Easter? Join the (Malcontent's) Club.

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This is my first Easter with Twitter, and I must admit I feel a bit OD'ed on the religious greetings my tweets have been sending. I got a lot of "Jesus died for your sins" type messages, and more than few tweets about "suffering with Christ." I know most of these are from very sincere people—many of whom I know and like--and who are experiencing something soulful and real. But for some reason it just beat me down.

In the past I've been very involved in Lent, Easter, and all it entails. I've worn ashes. I've spent many a Good Friday being deeply moved by Tenebrae services. I've fasted and kept vigil through the long wait of Holy Saturday. And, I have danced my ass off at celebrative Easter morning services. (If you've never sung  Fat Boy Slim's "Praise You" with 200 jubilant souls on Easter morning, you are missing out!)

But this year, when Good Friday rolled around all I wanted to do was sit in the Spring sunshine, playing Beatles songs on my guitar, drinking påskebryg, and smoking cloves. Every time I saw our Easter tree, now with it's branches stripped bare, all I could think was something like this:

“You know what? Jesus did not die for my sins. He died because his message of equity, justice, and charity clashed with the political and religious leaders of his time. He died because he was teaching people things that threatened the power of the institutions. He died because he lived in a time and a place where insurrectionists were nailed to a cross. It was terribly sad--bloody and raw and awful--but it had nothing to do with the consequences of my actions.”

I recognize, that sitting there on my sunny balcony with a beer in my hand, I was having a little bit of an adolescent snit. I knew my inner monologue was saucy, unbalanced, and not entirely fair. But damnit, that's where I was, and that's where I would be. And underneath it all, I knew there was something deeper. Something about redefining the story of the cross and the resurrection.  Something about finding a way for this truth-bearing-myth, which was rooted deep in my soul, to continue to guide and inform my living. Something about finding a method of relating to this key season with honesty and integrity.

Are you in a similar place? Are you out there on Easter Sunday kind of dreading church? Or maybe you've skipped it all together in lieu of beer and barbeque? Are you a little bit pissy and a little bit sad that Easter is not working for you like it once did? Would you like to find a way to keep this story on your shelf without damaging your soul?

I think you are. And I think there's away we can do this. It has to do with myth and meaning. It has to do with finding away around the violence. It has to do with spreading all the pieces out on a big, bright picnic blanket and finding a new way to put them all back together. We can do this--you, and I, and the giant pool of wisdom that surrounds us. So let's try. This Eastertide, in these weeks following the big event, let's explore. Let's ask questions. Let's see if we can find out what the resurrection might mean to a little group of malcontents, sitting on the balcony blowing smoke rings to the sun. I’ll meet you with my guitar. You bring the beer.

Next Week: Your Kindergartener Didn't Kill Jesus and Neither Did You: More thoughts on non-violent atonement.

Related Posts from Fellow Malcontents:
A Little Light Insurrection by Tess and Anchors and Masts:
“Whoever he was, Christ's life was an act of rebellion.”

Roxanne at Tinkerbell's Tea Party on Good Friday Contemplation:
“The Cross casts a dim shadow on this day....When I find myself in the shadow of an object, I know that light shines beyond this object. If the object had any degree of translucence, the light would shine through it, diminishing the shadow.”

Valeria Tarico's interview with Dr. Tony Nugent on Huffington Post:
(Nugent) “Well, many Christian theologians see the crucifixion and resurrection as a spiritual story rather than a literal one--a story about hope beyond despair, redemption and new life. But they are not the ones who get the media attention.”

Rachelle Mee-Chapman is an alt-minister, mom, and writer blogging at Magpie Girl, and now at Food Hero and Twitter .