Welcome to the next longest public holiday of the year. We're a few months down the line from Christmas. Spring is in the air. The kids are on Easter break. There's plenty of happiness around. Being able to walk out and have the Sun on your back rather than chill rain makes a lot of difference. Then again, the dark shadows still loom very strong. World tensions are ramping up, as usual - and still no one seems to know for certain if President Donald Trump is warmonger or wise leader. The former is looking more likely right now.
Did I just mention Easter? Should I maybe apologise for that? I do begin to wonder at times. As far as pushing retail is concerned, the named weekend will be kept in place for the foreseeable future - seeing as this holiday seems to be more about egg hunts, the consumption of copious amounts of chocolate, Easter bunnies, just about anything - so long as we don't dwell too long upon the death of one mysterious man somewhere in the Middle East.
Like Christmas, the religious aspects of the Lent/Easter season seem to loom more in the periphery, only taking their place on the mainstream menu as hardly fascinating television with maybe a 'cheese and biscuit' finishing course of Anglican church, fit only for the most die hard follower. Maybe the BBC will roll out a relevant movie 'treat' like 'King of Kings' or 'Ben Hur' this year. The late Mister Heston yet remains good value for money - even if the latter named Oscar winning movie has been aired more times than a Morecambe and Wise Christmas special.
Evidence suggests the world is in random chaos. And it's a strong suggestion. The good die young. The noble soul expires, along with the despised and the evil. The Sun shines on good and wicked alike. Thinking about Good Friday from the perspective of the native mind could bring things home more clearly. As I sat in a reflective church service on Friday I put myself as an observer in the crowd when Jesus was brought before Pilate. The Roman procurator was hardly a man of nobility. He, quite literally, washed his hands of the whole thing when every angle at his disposal to escape killing this man fell on deaf ears. Even he knew this Jesus was innocent of any crime, yet the crowd still screamed for blood.
Yet, why would one man - a good man, put himself through such horrific torture, unless he was telling the truth? Or unless he had no real power to stop it? Insanity? The book of Isaiah more describes what Jesus endured physically before his death, without the descriptive power of a novelist to bring it to life. Sufficient to say the man went through a living hell. He was beaten until his face was so disfigured it was no longer recognisable. His beard was pulled out. He was beaten to the point of unconsciousness, whipped, scourged. All for a the so called crime of blasphemy? The fact was, the religious establishment had seen him as a threat to their authority. It was pretty much the same for the Romans. Yet, Pilate's obvious fear prompted him to clear himself of blame of the crime. I sometimes wonder if his hand washing stunt was more to appease the wrath of God than ingratiate himself with the crowd.
I can understand for many, this means absolutely nothing. It's another holiday weekend, for whatever reason. So get over it and eat some chocolate. And yet, doesn't this world more than ever need a saviour? Even this morning, the news I read makes very frightening Sunday fare with the threat of World War 3 looming a little closer. I don't believe Jesus was insane, but I do wonder about many of us. We can argue until doomsday (which may not be as long away as we think) about proving the death and resurrection of Christ actually happened. There are books on the subject which present great evidence to support it. And still, people don't buy it. And some do. It's always going to be that way. I have many friends who think it's complete hooey. They are still my friends, despite their atheism. And I hope I remain theirs.
So did Jesus rise on the third day? I personally believe he did. But I can't prove it. If I could I might be claiming the the big cash payout from James Randi. I'm just another of the millions who have simple hope. I really think God does speaks through many varied and unexpected voices - even horror authors like Stephen King, and directors like Frank Darabont. So remember this resurrection Sunday - 'Hope is a good thing - maybe the best of things. And no good thing ever dies'.
Hope.
