THE TROUBLE WITH EASTER

You have to admit that Easter kind of sucks.
Don’t get me wrong, the resurrection is
great and everything and I love those cream eggs
but next to Lent, this season is all treble
and no bass. We spent 40+ days holding back
praying and abstaining
contemplating the persistent darkness
and personal despair in dirges,
oblique tweets, and of course, the second bite
at the apple of new year resolutions—
longing for those alleluias in a season
ravaged by school shootings and distorted politics
with spring break over Holy Week
(nothing says abstain like Disney World
or keeping it holy like leaving town)
and adults calling victims “crisis actors”—
but when it finally comes, with all the pomp
and expectation of the bride’s mother,
we remember how the sing song of repeating
“Alleluia, alleluia” with middle school joy
has the resonance of a plastic speaker
and we kind of wish (only kind of) that Jesus
had been in that tomb. Then maybe he could say
“Now say it again! This time with feeling!”
But I fear this is not enough. Even Jesus seems not
enough to inspire light as much as Satan
inspires darkness. Fear over hope, sadness over joy—
like all the bubblegum love songs eviscerated by one
Smells Like Teen Spirit. The Lenten slog is intolerable
but the Easter joy is unsustainable to a people
so easily drawn to cynicism. But
what if…
What if that love we long for (we pretend we don’t—
too cool) is just there waiting for us? At
our fingertips. Would we lose ourselves
in it? Would we dare? Does any of us have
the courage? Or do we let the cool detachment
paper over our hearts so shrunken with fear
we’d pass up happiness for certainty?
The tomb is empty but our eyes insist the
rotting corpse and Easter never comes.