Post-Evangelical Easter Reflection

These are some of my reflections, as a post-Evangelical-possibly-heretical-possibly-not-Christian, about Easter. I wrote this in my journal in the sunshine today and, wanting it to have a home, I (pardon the pun) resurrected this blog. 

Reading time: 8 minutes

My Evangelically-Shaped Easter

I used to view Easter as a day (/weekend / week) to observe the historical moment in time where my inevitable, innumerable sins were paid for by a perfect God-man.  This gift, of God paying the price of my sins, was graciously offered to me and to everyone else in the entire world, past and present. (Or was it just present and future? I forget). Given that I’d already accepted God's gift of Eternal life--I did this as a young child, like most of the children in my church community--I knew I was saved from eternal damnation (aka hell. The eternal burn.)  

Because this was my worldview, Easter was, for the earliest years of my life,  both a joyous occasion to rejoice in my promised salvation but also a pressing reminder that many of my (unchurched) friends were still on the path to end up in hell when they died. (Because, you know…they hadn’t accepted the gift that Jesus offered them.)

I did what any loving evangelical convinced by this truth would do: I prayed fervently for God to work in their hearts so that they, too, might come to know the joy of eternal life in Christ. I prayed that they might one day be able to join me and the rest of the church congregation when we proclaimed “He is risen indeed!"

(NB: Some of you, reading my claim of wanting other friends to “know the joy” along my parallel statements about burning in hellfire might think I’m being facetious. But I promise: I am not. I really did feel such a deep joy on account of my Christian faith, and I longed for others I loved to feel it too. I have a lot of compassion for the version of myself who saw the world in this way; I know I felt a lot of love for others—in the way that I knew how to. So if you’re feeling like rolling your eyes or shaking your fists at any Christians you know who currently conceptualize life in these ways, I invite you to try to first remember that they are seeing the world in a different way than you are; and probably their hearts are filled to the brim with love for you—in the way that they know how. Anyway, I digress.)

 

So that was Easter for me. For about 20 years or so. A mix of joy and fear. Both feelings were immense. 

(Now, it’s worth noting that not all Christians interpret Easter in the way that I did. Easter was not (/is not) a reminder about salvation vs. damnation for the many Christians who do not believe in a literal hell from which our sinful selves need to be saved via a payment of a perfect being. I don’t know quite enough about other Christian modes of interpreting Easter to summarize them here, but I know they are plentiful and I don’t want to paint them all with the same brush. There are huge variations within the religion we call Christianity.

But this sin-ridden, hell-bound humans + loving, debt-paying Saviour was the Christianity that I grew up in and, thus, this was Easter for me. It was a striking reminder about eternity, and a time to rejoice that you’ve been saved while also fret for those who aren’t.)

Given that this particular mode of interpreting Easter was so dominant in my psyche for so many years, I am not altogether surprised that I eventually veered away from that view. I do, however, personally find it VERY strange and unexpected that, this year, I find myself acutely (re)drawn to celebrate Easter. But here I am. 

Post-Evangelical Explorations of Religion/Spirituality 

For those of you who do not know, I have spent the last decade or so exploring religious and spiritual views that extend far beyond the lens that the church I grew up in taught me to see the world through. In these last ~10 years, I have identified as an atheist, an agnostic, an ignostic, a Jew, a Buddhist, a Christian, a bhakt, “Spiritual But Not Religious”, “Religious But Not Spiritual”, and “Other” ….depending on who was asking me the question and how much time I had for my answer. 

A lot of my discomfort with identifying (solely) as a Christian now is due to the fact that the type of Christianity that I once (strongly and happily!) identified with is now very far from being a comfortable fit for me.  If I were to try to wear my earlier Christianity like a sweater, it would feel itchy, scratchy. It barely fits over my head. And yet... 

I love so many of the teachings of Christ. Indeed, I cannot help but think that if he looked me in the eyes and said “follow me” then I would pack my bag (—wait, I forget: am I allowed to take the time to pack a bag? It’s been awhile since I’ve read that biblical passage in Matthew…) and run after him. I would want to follow him, and be in his presence.  Sit at his feet; absorb his teachings. (At least for a little bit? Wouldn’t you? Who would not want to be in the presence of such a teacher!?!?!) So, given that I long to follow Christ... am I a Christian? Who gets to decide if I “count” as one? Does the fact that the Christianity I was born-and-raised with is no longer the Christianity I wish to embrace mean that I must forfeit the identity once and for all? 

I honestly do not know. *shrugs*

(One of the reasons I often, self-protectively, remind people that I am not a theologian (I am, rather, a cultural anthropologist who studies religion) is that a theologian would probably be required to have an answer for that question of whether or not I "count" as a Christian. I quite like that I am allowed to shrug my anthropological shoulders at it. A theologian would know a lot more about the history of Christian doctrinal norms over the years, and they would be able to say “yes or no” to my questions about whether believing X, Y, or Z about Jesus is enough to let me pass as a Christian.  

I'm *not* a theologian, but I vaguely remember reading something by the Christian theologian Roger Haight in the delightful book Jesus and Buddha: Friends in Conversation where he asserted that there are a few “bottom line” doctrinal points that Christians have to believe in in order to be a Christian. One of these doctrines was about belief in resurrection. If that's correct, then even if I’m able to INTERPRET resurrection as having a different purpose than paying my sin-debt, I suppose I do struggle to believe that someone was medically dead for three days and then returned to life. So maybe I’m eternally-outcast on the Christian identity bit, I’m not sure. Go ask a theologian!)

Returning to Easter

But here’s the thought that has kept circling around in my mind leading up to, and during, this Easter weekend: I care about Easter. After a multi-year hiatus from caring at all about it--or really any religious holy day--it is beginning to feel meaningful for me once again. So, I've wondered: why am I leaning back towards it? What’s the substance of my inklings? (Some Christians might say that God is calling me back to him. I suppose that's a possibility.) But, at this point in time, I'm more interested in what is going on in my heart/mind/soul/body. What rises up in me? If Easter is giving me an emotional response, what are these emotions? (FYI, I'm trying to get better at knowing and naming my emotions. It's something that Marc Brackett speaks very wisely about.) There is no tangible sense of joy, nor fear, that I have been able to locate and yet there is a deep sense of meaning, respect, and awe. 

I’ve been trying to narrow in on what I find meaningful about Easter. Is it akin to nostalgia? Or, levelling-up, is it like the Portuguese saudade , e.g. the deep emotionally-entrenched longing for the familiar? Or is it that I want to be able to punctuate my annual calendar with spiritually-meaningful moments, and the global take-over of Christianity has made it quite convenient to align myself with Christian holidays? After all, I’m not sure about you, but my Good Friday day-off-work was, indeed, quite good!

It might be some of those things. 

But I think it is also the story of Easter itself that I find meaningful and compelling: it’s a story about a loving, wise teacher who inspired many and challenged more. Who chose non-violence when faced with violence. Who suffered, brutally, in
the midst of it all—who felt abandonment/betrayal from God himself [...herself.../Itself..?]—and who still persevered. And who, the story goes, managed to overturn the very notion of death itself through resurrection. It's a story about the act of death itself being somehow able to defeat death...in other words, it's a story about how all things eventually turn back to life. 

Photo by Nika Kuchuk

Resurrection is Everywhere

This sense---that all things eventually turn back to life---feels overwhelmingly true the more I experience and reflect on life. As the snow melts around me and the energies of springtime begin to flow—in the budding leaves, in the soaring and singing birds, in the rippling water…and, I hasten to admit, in the smelly dog-shit and bits of trash that are being more and more revealed in my neighbour’s backyard—I cannot help but feel that a story about the way that everything leads back again to life, is a story worth celebrating. Resurrection tales are not unique to Christianity and Jesus, but the details of the Jesus/Christian story are a uniquely-formed invitation to reflect on the ways that death and life intertwine and, indeed, get mixed up with each other. I for one find the story quite awe-inspiring. 

I’m a little fuzzy over whether it’s rude or even inappropriate for me to summarize the Easter story in this way without paying attention to either historicity or theological accuracy. But I love the story. It feels hopeful—if a little heretical. 

A Cultural and Spiritual Transformation

---

I am still grappling with a succinct "reasons why humans hate/discriminate against/kill each other," but it is in this same vein that I am motivated to study religion/theology and its dynamic intersection with culture. We indeed need a cultural and spiritual transformation.

And, if you even glimpse at the news sporadically, you are more than aware of how much room for change there is in our many religious, political, educational, and cultural spheres. There is so much more room to love more widely and more deeply. I think all hands are needed in this--no matter your career/hobbies/skills/passions etc.--because each of us have our own ever-widening circles of influence where we can be more loving and encourage others to do the same.

And to those of us who are able to devote ourselves 'full time' to questions of religion and culture (I would place many students and scholars of religion more broadly in this category, as well as those in leadership positions of spiritual communities), well...... I hope we can find creative ways to use our insights and knowledge to evoke positive change.

p.s. please feel free to kick me in the pants whenever I (again) begin to fret more about trying to walk delicately on egg shells in some imagined-path to a tenure track job than I do about following my passion.

Dreaming Big, Pursuing Your Dreams, and all sorts of other overused cliches which I hold onto dearly

Alright, so every who knows me well knows that I am among the least politically-minded/politically-informed people I know. (I'm at least aware of this!) So keep that in mind as I make these fleeting references to politics and current affairs. 

The way I feel most of the time.

I'm very aware that I'm an ideas-person and a dreamer/thinker; I don't claim to have a superb understanding of all the facts and processes...anyway. Now that that caveat is out of the way, let me move right along into my dreaming and my ideas.

Putting aside all the bewilderment, irritation, and anger…one positive thought I have had with this absolute shit show of US election results was this: "absolutely anything can happen; keep your hopes and dreams big."

I wonder why so many of us hold onto such small and narrow ideas of what we can accomplish or what is within our ability to achieve. Many of us settle (in our careers, our relationships, our hobbies) for something mediocre rather than that which we really want.

And it strikes me that, perhaps, if more individuals had held onto a bigger dream (being president, etc.) then we wouldn't be witnessing so much madness.

I don't intend to say that the best thing imaginable is for us all to be positions of power and prestige. Surely that is not all of our dreams—there is no cookie cutter model of what excellence/fulfillment is for each of us. For example, being the president of the USA is so incredibly far from my biggest dream/hope that it would be absolutely awful if that were what I pursued. But some people--those among you who are interested in and knowledgeable of politics, for starters--might actually excel in such a role and would indeed want to do that. But for some reason we think it is too unreachable and far off, so we instead pursue Goal # 2...or Ideal Career #3 ....#17...etc.

Some of my favourite artwork in Ottawa, Canada. The artist was building these rock sculptures for decades before he received any formal recognition/salary for it. 

For me, this common practice (of placing aside our actual dreams/hopes/desires to do what seems more acceptable within society) materialises quite a bit in the type of research I pursue. It's sometimes hard to do what is meaningful to me rather than what seems desireable/normative by some academic models.

I really do want to use my research (both my written work and the result that my studies have on my own life) to make a positive impact on society.

I’m constantly asking myself questions about the nature of God/spirituality, about how to develop a community and a larger society in which we are more respectful and more loving toward ourselves and others, about what it is that gives meaning to our lives, and about what gives us energy/passion in our lives to instill positive changes.

Clothes drying and a man walking. (Mumbai, India)

My studies often seem very “airy-fairy” and lofty to people who are more involved with on-the-ground social changes—take activisits who are working toward ending poverty, for example. I seem to be in an ivory tower where it’s all talk and no action. Or my spiritual questions can seem absolutely ridiculous to those focused exclusively on material wealth and business. 

Yup.

People from both of these camps sometimes try to draw me into their worlds. And I definitely see value and appeal in the world of social activism, and I can also see the appeal in more-pure business-type endeavours. But neither are my consuming passion. At least not in this moment.

I think, instead, I can strive to excel in my area of interest—which for me happens to be philosophical type questions about what it is that makes our lives meaningful. (And which, I might add, for me does include SOME element of practical application that sometimes overlaps with social activism. Anyway.) For you, it might be something totally different. But, I do believe, positive change can come in result to our passionate pursuits of our dreams/goals.

along the Berlin wall

I wish we all had the courage to dream a little bit bigger. And to hold onto those dreams a little bit longer.

Can you imagine the positive changes that might happen if all the good, loving, kind, passionate people in our world truly believed that they could have a significant impact on those in their circles—whatever and wherever those circles might be? So often we let various societal expectations—of all shapes and sizes—restrain and constrain us. But I think it could be absolutely wonderful if we pursued our actual dreams.

Think of some manageable dream which is too often ignored because we are all so used to settling. Maybe it's deciding to close your ears to what society tells you you're supposed to view as successful and instead spend some time working as a nanny, learning to cook new recipes, and writing poetry. (I spent 6 months doing that. It rocked.) Maybe it's changing your food choices so that you contribute to a kinder, greener planet. I don't know. I think we all have must have dreams we are setting aside without really pursuing them.

These are the chickens that my Ottawa flat-mates and I had. Their free-range eggs, along with our homegrown veggies, was an awesome way for us to have access to some local organic food. 

 These are perhaps silly/minor examples, but they're ones from my own life that for so long I rejected or placed aside because they didn't align with what society told me I should/could pursue. 

It's so easy and normative to fall into place and to go about living a life that is more or less fine but is not what we *really* want to be doing. I often wonder if I'm living the life I really want to be living. Sometimes I am, definitely. But other times I fall into the trap of doing what is expected of me rather than pursue the dream I really want.

To wrap up: Dreaming "big" can look like different things to different people. Not all of us care to be a CEO or run for President. (Thank God.) But those of you who do....why don't you take that dream seriously?  And those of you who want to live a simple life and grow your own veggies...why do you leave that dream in order to work in a more normative career that society pushes down your throat? And those of you who want to do whatever else it is that you dream of doing...why have you abandoned that passion? In 1, 5, 10..20 (etc) years, will it have been worth it? Will you feel a tinge of regret for having never tried it?

Words to live by, friends. Words to live by.

Anyway. All cliches and memes aside..I absolutely do think we should all strive to be loving, just, merciful, and humble...and so dreaming "big" will hopefully (a) be fueled by that and (b) naturally incorporate and strengthen our tendencies toward doing good. But we can also keep our dreams big in terms of how we might [positively] impact the world. Because we all have capabilities and passions and spheres of influence in one way or another.

Baas.

Searching for God [and 3G signals]

Namaste all:

For those of you who have been spared my woeful tales of killing 9 foot python cobras, of taking cold bucket showers, of sweeping palm-sized spiders out of my bedroom, etc. … I’m living in an Indian jungle at the moment(residing at an ashram.)I’ve been here for just under one month now and this is the first time I’m getting internet access on a computer. Pardon any errors of formatting etc..

And in essence, being at this ashram is about being on a search.


There are many ways that it is a search.

Inarguably I am near-constantly searching for ways to make sense of what I experience here so that it can become palpable “data” that I use for the ever-looming task of writing my PhD dissertation. (But this blog is not, will not!!, be about that!) Other times I search for the right word to express myself in Hindi… and sometimes I search for my “torch” (flashlight, for all you non-Indians and non-Brits)so that I can navigate my way back to my room without being bothered by (note: bothering) any of the quasi-dangerous wildlife here.

And, I readily admit, frequently I search for a network reception signal for my mobile so that I can try to feel connected to the world outside of this ashram—and to the people outside of it whom I love and miss. (“I lift my phone up to the mountains, where does my signal come from” is my personal new adapted version of that one bible verse in Isaiah…)

Importantly, I also(I think) search for God—though I feel that the meaning of this statement changes for me on a near-daily basis (if not more often than that.)



There is a sign at this ashram that says that anyone (well, it actually says any “man” but I will give it the benefit of the doubt) who genuinely wants to find God is welcome here—whether he be of the Christian faith, of a different faith, or of no faith. Currently, all of the people who have come to the ashram for this thirty-day program identify with the Christian faith (though some are new converts, all with their own background stories and reasons for beginning to ‘follow Jesus,’ as is said here).

In spite of (some) language barriers and many cultural/worldview barriers, I am trying to find ways to connect meaningfully with the people who are here. Because what are we doing with our lives if not connecting meaningfully to the people who we eat and drink with, and whom we live beside? I am being challenged in a number of different ways in this regard—not the least because, though I certainly crave meaningful interaction, I can sometimes have a tendency to close myself off to people.

This tendency, among with other sort of ‘knee-jerk reactions’ that I have,  has been something I’ve been able to explore in quiet times of meditation, etc. I’m not going to go into further detail at this point in time, but it is a process that I am working through. And I think this sort of self-reflective processing is a good thing to do—whether that be through individual meditation or through another means.

I wonder what we as individuals and our societies more broadly would be like if we each took time to contemplate and reflect upon not only WHO we are or HOW we act, but WHY we are that way—and also whether we think that these traits are admirable. I have found that most of my social/work circles over the years of not placed nearly enough value on this practice. It’s something I hope to incorporate more and more into my life.  I’m currently pretty bad at “quieting/focusing my mind” to contemplate certain things without my mind wandering to other thoughts, but they say it is something that will improve with time…

As always, I welcome your thoughts in the comments below or by message. Many thanks to those of you who have PMedme over these last few weeks; I love hearing from you! 

Also, here's a photo of monkeys.

In the theme of both being in India and being on a search, I will finish this with a “bhajan” (devotional hymn) that I wrote during my first few days at this ashram. The English translation is at the bottom.

Mere aankhe kholo,
mera dil kholo.
To mai tujhko dekh sakhoo.
Meri aatma pyaasi hai.

Kya mai tera liye pyaasi hun?
Kahan jaao tujhse milne ke liye?
Meri aatma bahut pyaasi hai.

Duniya ka dhundt ki piche me, tere aatma hai.
Mai dhoondt rahi hun.
Tho pani do.

Jaldi se aa
ya dire se aa.
Subaha ko aa
ya sham ko aa.
Jaisa tu chahe.
Par meri aatma pyaasi hai.

Bhajo naam, bhajo naam, bhajo naam…
Mai tera naam bhaj rahi hun
aur usme kho jaa rahi hun.

Sab meri bhakti tere liye hai.
Mere aankhe tujhe dhoondti hai,
Mera dil bhi tujhe dhoondta hai.
Mera man aur meri aatma bhi tujhe dhoondte hain.

Meri paasaa.
Mai pyaasi hun.

Open my eyes,
open my heart.
So that I can see you.
My soul is thirsty.

Is it you I thirst for?
Where must I go to meet with you?
My soul is very thirsty.

Your face hides behind the mist
of this world.
And I am searching,
so give me water.

Come quickly
or come slowly.
Come in the morning
or in the evening:
Let it be whichever you wish
but my soul is thirsty.

Sing the name, sing the name, sing the name.
I am singing your name
and losing myself in it.

All of my devotion is toward you.
My eyes search for you.
My heart searches for you.
My mind and my soul also search for you.

Come near me.
I am thirsty.